Diaspora

How much for a kidney?

Recently I read an interesting article about Iranian security forces discovering a tunnel that apparently lead to the British Embassy in Iran. I found the whole affair extremely interesting, not so much because of the cloak and dagger stuff, but because the Iranian authorities among other things, accused the Brits of using the tunnel to bring in prostitutes into the embassy. I was naturally flabbergasted by this insolence of the British embassy staff. How dare they doing this in the Islamic Republic? Don't they know that prostitution is illegal in Iran? Don't they know that the wise rulers of the Islamic Republic allow temporary marriages (from a few hours to many weeks or months, depending on one's stamina)? But what can you expect of these foreigners? They don't know much about the country. So I have taken it upon myself to educate them on how the Islamic Republic functions. >>>

Somebody is calling my name

I don’t know the meaning of my name. But I know one thing: my name is entirely what I am. Already, I’ve forgotten the name that’s given to me. Maybe if I think harder, I’ll remember it. Yet I feel no urge to look for it: it was like all those things that must have been lost, those that must have been gone and set free in formlessness. I shaped my new name on my own, though. First, it was simply an insignificant speck of pollen among thousands of other specks, drifting around in the air, searching for the pistil. I waved at that very spec and it floated toward me. “Just don’t forget to water me everyday,” it whispered.>>>

iranian.com 12.0

You may have noticed changes in Iranian.com in recent days. Well now it's official: iranian.com 12.0 has gone live! The site has gone through many changes in its look and feel since its launch in 1995. This time, however, the transformation is more fundamental. For the first time visitors have the power to self-publish. You can leave comments immediately on the site, have your own blog and submit articles more efficiently. Basically, you are no longer at my mercy to have your voice heard around here (do I hear "thank god"?!) >>>

My Ego & I

Bear with me for a moment while I put aside my admirable modesty to make a point. I have a Master’s degree in Engineering, speak several languages, and have traveled and worked in many parts of the world. I have read more books than I can remember, read newspapers and news magazines every day, and avidly follow current affairs on radio and television. Based on all that, you might be kind enough and tempted to think I am an “educated” person, right? WRONG! No, I am not a self-hating Persian – just one who is finally waking up.>>>

Bump

Everything started on a Monday when, in the morning, I noticed that little bump on my forehead. It was almost like nothing. Nothing noticeable, so I ignored it, as if it didn’t exist. It was even smaller than a coin. The color of my skin hadn’t changed, and I found no hole in the middle of the bump; all this indicated to me that it was just a mosquito bite. The next day it had gotten bigger. It was right in the middle of my forehead, where everyone who was looking at me would see. I changed the style of my hair to cover it. That was a busy week at work, so I had to work late nights, and in the morning I was washing my face with closed eyes, so the bump didn’t bother me at all. >>>

Beautiful Nancy

Last time we went was a planned camping holiday with my sister and brother in law. This time we booked a couple of B&B’s, one in Nancy (200 miles from where we live) and the other in Dijon (350 miles from where we live). Nancy has special significance for me because my maternal grandfather studied medicine there between the two world wars in the 1930’s. So it was a pilgrimage of sorts. I never met either of my grandfathers, but here at last I had the opportunity to follow in one of their footsteps. And what breath taking footsteps; this city could be the love child of Barcelona and Bath in the UK. The architecture is simply beautiful.>>>

Cloudy, with a chance of war

As an American-born Iranian, who has lived and studied in Iran, Ebtekar’s war images are influenced by the Iran-Iraq war. “My earlier works borrow a lot from the Iran-Iraq war. If you look closely at my earlier works you will see jet-planes and tanks that are direct references to the ones used in the Iran-Iraq War.” But war does not stop there for the globe, nor for Ebtekar. He explains: “When 9/11 happened I stopped working on this manner and felt as though I couldn't continue in that political climate. However when current war was declared shortly after, I remember saying to myself I have to continue working, it’s actually more important to do it now that any other time. So I continued, and now the references are not solely from the Iran-Iraq war but from a larger body of sources and material that are coherent with contemporary geopolitical crises we are in.”>>>

The right to be rude

You know, my favorite medium of communication has never been the English language. I much prefer to express myself in Farsi whenever I feel the urge to submit my thoughts or emotions to paper. This time, however, I chose to write in English because the article – if it could be called an article – that provoked this piece of writing was written in English. Though one may say that pleas against attempts to curb freedom of expression are legitimate regardless of the source of the plea, one would be entirely taken aback if such pleas came from, say, Chief Justice Ayatollah Shahroody of the Islamic Republic.>>>

Caught up in the mortgage mess

Lately, one cannot log on to the internet, turn on the television or open up the newspaper (people still read newspapers, don't they?) without being inundated with some kind of news, invariably bad, concerning the housing market, mortgage defaults and so on. It also seems that while the news entities focus on all of the losses, cable TV channels like TLC and Bravo are showing investors and speculators making healthy profits in less time than it takes to solve the latest crime on the newest CBS spinoff, CSI: Rasht. >>>

Scott Baio is 45 and single

One of the many things you don’t know about me is this: Scott Baio was my first celebrity crush. Sure I have a very sophisticated list of male celebrity crushes today: from Jon Stewart to George Clooney to my latest delicious acquisition Jon Hamm (he of the excellent Mad Men on AMC), my fantasy life is filled with funny, good looking, and more importantly, highly talented celebrities. But I have to admit, it all started from Scott Baio. I do have an excuse for this seeming lapse of taste in my life: I was a newly arrived immigrant from Iran and had left a small nurturing school in Tehran for the large jungle otherwise known as the Los Angeles County Public School system.>>>

Man Irooniam

Over the vast expanse of the universe, a vagrant seed of a concept drifts about and lands on fertile land and is nurtured into a tree by intense passion yet tender love. The ardent labor bears fruit that is satisfying not only to Masih, the creator, but also to those who share the great pleasure of savoring the delectable fruit of his exhilarating art. Masih comes from a family of highly-prized and respected tile artisans of Esfahan (Isfahan), whose magic creations of indigo, turquoise, and cobalt blues have adorned the mosques and historical monuments of the city of Esfahan for centuries. Holding a torch in hand and a palpitating hope in heart, he illuminates the path to mystical Persian calligraphy>>>