Arts and Literature

Namâd

Namâd Ensemble is once again touring, delivering commendable performances at each venue. If you are already familiar with them, you understand what makes them worthy of praise. If, these musicians are unknown to you, however, you may wonder what genre their music falls under and what exactly sets them apart. Mentioning that these five men collectively play Tombak, Frame Drums, Daf, Udu, Kamanche, Queychak, Setar and Shourangiz, may automatically invoke images of a traditional Iranian group; but Namâd is more than that. Before we jump to labels, perhaps we should pause to consider that while a performance is a transitory experience for the audience, for the musicians it is the culmination of months and years of struggle to render the extract of their essence into the language of composition>>>

Way to Beg, lady

There is this lady who begs almost everyday near my workplace. I first noticed her more than couple years ago. What made her stand out from all the other beggars is how she went about asking for money. She said something to the effect that whether people wanted to help her with her goal of making some amount of dollars. I forgot the number of dollars she mentioned but what was interesting to me was how she talked about her goal and somehow made her begging a little bit higher class than all the others. She had a goal and was working towards it and here was passersby’ chance to help her achieve her goal>>>

The Tyranny of Dead Ideas II

There is a cause and effect link between economic success and your aptitude. In addition, economic status connotes moral and social merit. The American nation, Mr. Miller seems to suggest, is moving toward a dangerous social duality because of a skewed reward system. He predicts a class war between “lower upper class” and those who are getting “ultra rich” undeservingly by harvesting the fruits of capitalism. He explains: “The widening chasm between rich and poor threatens our democracy. Ultras are not simply reaping the rewards of the free market, but are benefiting from a rigged compensation system in the boardrooms and on Wall Street that are likely to reward mediocrity as success.”>>>

چقدر بوی پدر می دهد عمو!

چه خوبست که زندگی بعدهای متهورش جاودانه است
و چه خوبست ، اگر هیچ نیست
بهار هست و شکوفه
درخت هست و آفتاب
و این کوه مخملی*
که با من قهر نمی کند ، مثل برادرم
که هر ساله بوقت شکوفه ها قهر است! >>>

Bitter Joy

The question which always consumes the soul of the great Persian poet, Omar Khayyam (1048-1122), is death and the afterlife. In his Ruba'iyat, he cannot accept the usual religious responses of resurrection and reincarnation. To release his mind from the insurmountablility of death, he takes refuge in wine (and sometimes love), and tries to forget himself in "let's be happy" or hedonism. As a result, in spite of his rejection of resurrection and ridicule of religious observances, Khayyam is not able to appreciate the immortal self-creativity of earthly life and cannot distance himself from the religious point of departure; that is, the dominance of death over life. In Khayyam's hedonism, earthly wine replaces heavenly opium and drinking ceremonies substitute for religious rituals>>>

Long night

I went to a party one night. The subject of my dress soon prevailed in the small circle of people around me and I told them I have a wonderful tailor in Tehran. But I added the fact that I had a problem finding jackets here because all the jackets I saw had defective collars. Sharif volunteered by saying he agreed and even jackets that were made for men didn't have good collars. I found myself talking to him for a few minutes and I noticed he was shying away from making eye contact with me. He told me he was in Tehran for a few days and had to get back to Dezful very soon. I realized it could be a new harmless partner who would go back to his normal life and wouldn't bother me in the future>>>

Mine...

Mine, by a promise
Mine, by pure luck
Mine, by the truth of a heartache
Mine, by fierce persistence
Or self-motivated determination
Mine, so I can disown
This greedy soul so
It cannot uphold >>>

مذاکرات سکس

چیز مبهمی راجع به تلویزیونی که خاموش می شود،
دندانی که مسواک می شود،
نور اتاقی که تاریک میشود،
و دست مردی که پستانت را در دست می گیرد،
مرا ساکت می کند،
و سکس نمی خواهم..
چیز غریبی راجع به مردی که می پرسد،
"حاضری؟"
مرا حاضر نمی کند. >>>

Educating the Waiter

It is a cool summer evening of a young woman with short blue hair in Vancouver. Tattoos on her arm and piercing on her nose and lip, she walks through the doors of a French bistro and takes a table in the front window. The lone waiter throws her an unenthusiastic sidelong glance from his station behind the counter, contemplating the unlikliness of her producing any worthwhile tip, instead concentrating on the elegantly-dressed and potentially far more lucrative middle-aged couple who are whispering tête-à-tête in a far corner of the restaurant>>>

مرغ مهاجر

مرغکی اِسپید چون برف
برگزیده آشیانه در کنارم،
زیر شیروانی اتاقم.
مرغک پرّان یکتا،
برگذشته از ورای کوه و دشت
در هجرت مرغان شیدا،
از شمال سرد غمناک
سوی گرمای دلارای جنوب.
>>>

پنجره ای بسوی بهار

برای برخی از ما ایرانیان مقیم درغربت که از دوستان و فامیل دور هستیم، آن نوروزهای پرهیجان و شادی آور سالهای دور، دیگر تبدیل به رد و بدل چند تلفن تبریک و شش هفت تا تعارف معمولی و خوش بشهای زورکی شده اند. دو روز اول سال نو کم و بیش و بیهوده صرف نشستن و گرفتن شماره تلفنهای ایران میشود. فیزیک ذرات یکطرف و گرفتن چهل و هشت شماره تلفن پشت سرهم یکطرف. این براستی باد در هاون کوبیدن است و اگر گهگاهی هم یک شماره جواب دهد، شخص آنطرف خط میگوید "اشتباه گرفتی جونم!" در یکی از همین شماره گیری های پارسال خانمی خوش صدا گوشی را در تهران برداشت و همان اول کار گفت "جونم"! آنور دنیا در یک کشور اثنی عشری خانمی بیمقدمه میگوید جانم، خوب شما بودید چه میکردید؟ قند در دل آب کردیم که دیگر پنجاه درصد آن درست شد و فقط مانده که کارتهای دعوت چاپ بشوند>>>

Bahar Aborted

Islamists tried to cancel the 1979 Nowruz celebrations, in order to maintain their unending cycle of mourning and fighting. The Hezbollah was determined to take over the entire government apparatus, expel the liberal technocrats from the ministries, crush the Kurdistan uprising, and reinvigorate the populace around their banner. However, their mindless repressive tactics (Chomaghdari) had alienated most political activists; and their lack-lustre fundamentalist slogans could not attract the vibrant young population. Since his arrival, ayatollah Khomeini had not helped their cause either, as his Qom lectures were normally tedious and erratic>>>

Child of mine

Aah, child of mine
The music lover
The poetry worshipper
Clever and bright
Handsome and fair
Passionate and kind
I had heard about Gitmo,
I had  heard about Abu Ghraib,
But I knew about Evin,
I knew >>>

بهاریه

۱- رفتیم عید دیدنی خانه یکی از اقوام .تلویزیون روشن است و برنامه نوروزی پخش میکند. هایده پیش درآمد سه گاه میخواند: نوروزززز آمددد . هرم دلپذیر بخاری نفتی ارج به صورتم میزند. یک ظرف پر شکلات کام جلویم است٬از این شکلاتهای چهارگوش با عکس فنجان و نعلبکی و کاغذ طلایی. یواشکی مشتم را پر شکلات میکنم و در جیبم میریزم! صاحبخانه میبیند و لبخندی میزند. خجالت میکشم. موقع بیرون آمدن دوتا ده تومانی عیدی میگیرم از آنهایی که عکس پدر وپسر رویشان است که دارند به دور دستها نگاه میکنند. >>>

Sounds of Spring

The sounds of spring have no reason
To stop
Nature shows off her clout
Unable to anticipate
Her fate
She continues
Her nurturing ways >>>

صد بهتر از دیروز ما

سردی رود، سبزی رسد
همگام با نوروز ما

از جشن عید و فصل نو
خرم شود امروز ما

لبخند و شادی بر ملا
آزار و زاری بر فنا >>>

Mr. Eskandari

The man who came with Agha Karim. He was fooling around with some pipes in the back of the washing machine. I soon realized he was a plumber who is working on the leaking pipe. In a split second I wanted him. I don't know why but I could feel some mysterious juices flowing throughout my body. I went to my bedroom and tried to digest what I had witnessed. He was a man around forty, with thick beard and moustache and very hairy body. I could see that because in the heat of the bathroom he had taken off his shirt and was working on the pipes in a sleeveless undershirt. I walked up and down the room to dispel any sexy thought but after a few minutes I got out of the room and passed the bathroom again to see him there. He was quite well-built and had muscular arms and biceps >>>