Diaspora

My Dear Son

From the onset of my journey to this country, I had to work hard because I knew that was the only way for me to support myself and to continue my education. I had to do odd jobs ranging from janitorial, car hopping, dishwashing, truck driving, and pizza delivering to support myself and my education. I did them all. Did I like them? No. I hated them, but I didn’t have much choices. I did not let the feeling of despair to overwhelm me. I considered those odd jobs as the temporary sources of income I needed to support my long-term goal which was to have a good education. Surviving might be easy; succeeding is not. I managed to climb my way up inch by inch through perseverance and hard work. This is not to claim that I am a very successful person. Given the circumstances, I think I have done well>>>

حریق

وجدی موواد در زمینه تئاتر، نمایشنامه نویس و کارگردان و بازیگر است و جوایز بسیاری دریافت کرده که یکی از آنها جایزه مولیر در سال 2005 است که آن را به دلیل بی توجهی ناشران به کار نمایشنامه نویسان جوان در فرانسه رد کرد. او در فرانسه بسیار محبوب است و در سالهای اخیر نمایشنامه هایش مرتب در سالنها به روی صحنه رفته است و یا در جشنواره های فرانسه اجرا می شود. نمایشنامه "حریق"، با مرگ زنی آغاز می شود و با خواندن وصیت نامه اش. او برای هر یک از دو فرزند بازمانده (یک دختر و پسر دوقلو)، نامه ای گذاشته است که در آن نامه از هر دوشان می خواهد به جستجوی پدر و برادر خود بروند و نامه ای از مادر خود را به او بدهند. "حریق" بازتاب جنگ و پرتاب شدن در جهانی سوزان و در میان شعله های آتش است.>>>

Twin Adventures

...>>>

The End of Racism

The end of racism that I have seen has been a piece of paper and a group of white men in suits announcing that the end of racism is hereby decreed. The end of racism that I haven't seen has been those same white men looking at each other with tears in their eyes. The end of racism that I have seen has been let me tell you about the end of racism. The end of racism that I haven't seen has been let me listen to the years and years of it. The end of racism that I have seen has been Martin Luther King Day. The end of racism that I haven't seen has been What in the hell is really happening, I mean really happening, and why does one more child have to be born into this Day>>>

A Time to be Thankful

Every Thanksgiving, I remind myself of the many blessings in my life, but while doing that, somewhere in a secret corner of my mind, I also list the many more things I could have been thankful for. Such thoughts aren’t strong enough to spoil the mood, nor am I ungrateful enough to verbalize them, but they’re there and for once, I’ve decided to pour them out. This reminds me of something I had heard a few years after the Islamic Revolution in Iran. Following a variety of sanctions and restrictions, Iranians experienced a horrible economy combined with a huge shortage and I heard over and over from incoming passenger about how unbearable life in Iran had become. A friend told me this story>>>

Reading Kafka at Harvard (2)

At day break on Wednesday, January 17, 1996. A tremor shaking the old house to the roots I thought, but the surge of sounds drilling into my peaceful sleep bespoke of an impending crisis of a different kind, one that would instantly transform my life for years to come by imposing on me all the existential horror of a Kafkasque nightmare. Luckily, that night my wife Sylvia and our little Sabrina were staying with my mother-in law who was recuperating from an ice-related car accident. Winter had arrived in full force that January. Lying in bed with the bedside lamp on, I didn’t move but tried to grasp what was happening. A luminous fresco of clouds was gazing through the bay windows; expectant mother nature had found an empty theater to mount a small absurdist play. The heavy knocks on the door sounded as if I had been hit in the head.>>>

آخرین روزها

روز یازدهم فروردین ماه سال 1361 (31 مارس 1982) با سبیل تراشیده و ریش نتراشیده، با چهره ای خسته و درهم "پای آبله و خسته، غریبه و دلمرده، با ترس كبود، راه گم كرده، متحیر و عاجز، خسته و ناتوان، آشنا به هویت خویش، ولی درمانده، اشكی به یك چشم و خونی به چشم دیگر، در حالی كه نمیداند به كجا خواهد رسید؟ به زمهریر هاویه؟ یا به كنار حوض كوثر؟" با كیف دستی كوچكی از فرودگاه "شارل دوگل" بیرون آمد. در اتوبوسی كه از فرودگاه به شهر میرفت، نگران و پریشان، در ردیف آخر نشسته بود. برای دوستانش از ایران تعریف میكند و از تیرباران بیرحمانه، دوست نزدیكش سعید سلطانپور حرف میزند و از اینكه پس از آن مجبور شده به زندگی مخفی پناه ببرد و بالاخره از آپارتمان كوچك و دخمه مانندی كه در تهران داشته است حرف میزند اما لبهایش میلرزند. >>>

آمريكا

آمريكا،
اى گسترده پهندشت قدرت و مكنت جهان
وى بيشه سبز سبزينه دلار،
اى كه جنگل شيشه و پولاد افراشته اى
وز اوج بلند آن
سينه سپهر خراشيده اى.
اى كه  آبى آسمان و سپيدى ستاره را
با رنگ سرخ خون آميخته اى، >>>

More please

The thing I love most about Kiosk, is their predictable unpredictability. Just when you think you have them pegged.To jump right in, the thing I love most about Kiosk, is their predictable unpredictability. Just when you think you have them pegged, that they are going to shift from what you know, they shift off into a different direction dragging you not so much as surprised, but gladly so behind them. You're like a late entry to a long conga line at a wedding and you only have enough time to ask the person in front of you, "Where the hell are we going?" Whether done on purpose, or merely a haphazard result of the free creative process, Kiosk's latest album, "Global Zoo" takes us on the wildest ride yet. Stretching our imagination over the span of rock, blues, tango, waltz, and dare I say country western, and urrrp the long thought dead Disco!>>>

Toddlers & Vandals

...>>>

Fareeb

Video>>>

Cordoba to Kurdistan via flamenco

Hamed Nikpay speaks Farsi the way he plays his music: rapid staccato syllables held together by slow melodic interludes. Maybe this is why he favors the setar when he speaks his heart. The instrument comes to life at the flick of the index finger over the strings, followed by a trilled sustain detailing the life of the tone. Nikpay’s new CD album, All Is Calm (Asoudeh) seems to follow the emotional biography of a young artist sparked to life by a devastating early romance whose lament still haunts him in the sustain. In the first track, Deceit, (Fareeb), he sings “You bestowed kisses from my lover’s lips to the other man.” I ducked the temptation to ask Nikpay who she was and what happened. Instead we chatted a little about the man who penned those lyrics >>>

America's better half

On November 4, America made history once again by generously embracing Barak Obama as its first African-American president. In this election more the 53% of Americans cast their votes for Obama (more than any other Democratic presidents since World War II with the exception of Lyndon Johnson in 1964 who gained the sympathy votes of the people after Kennedy’s assassination). To better understand and appreciate the magnitude of what happened in this U.S. election we should notice that it was only 53 years ago that Rosa Parks bravely refused to give up her seat on a public bus to make room for a white passenger and by doing so she ignited the Civil Right Movement. Prior to the Civil Rights Act of 1968, which legally prohibited racial discrimination, African-Americans were treated like second class citizens. >>>