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01-May-2011 (10 comments)
یک روش خوب برای سنجیدن افراد، مشاهده رفتار آنها با پیشخدمت‌ها است. در این مورد، آدمها چون فکر میکنند که در موضع قدرت هستند و احتمالی هم به تاثیر گذاری آن افراد بر زندگی خود نمی‌‌دهند؛ روحیه شخصی خودشان را به نمایش می‌‌گذارند. بعد از شش ماه آشنایی، هم اصغر آقا و هم اکبر آقا که ۳۲ سال در کافه نادری گارسون بودند، نظر دادند که؛ "این دختره کس خله!" >>>
STORY
29-Apr-2011 (one comment)
تانک کوچولو، تفنگ کوچولو و موشک کوچولو خوشحال بودند و توی صف ایستاده بودند.امروز اولین روز مدرسه بود، مدرسه دشمنی! مدیر مدرسه شمشیری پیر بود با یک غلاف جواهرنشان که خاطرات زیادی از جنگهایی دور داشت. او از هزاران سال پیش این مدرسه را اداره می کرد. شمشیر پیر پرچم سیاهی را بالا فرستاد و گفت: درود بر عالیجناب نادانی که هرچه داریم از اوست>>>
STORY
27-Apr-2011 (4 comments)
Erikson lunged at me like a ferocious beast, snarling, claws spread wide. A sideways duck would have still left me in the range of his arms, so quickly I ducked low. His lunge missed, his arms wrapping clumsily around empty space. Another roar from the spectators. The crowd was exuberant to suddenly realize the prey was not going to be an easy kill. Eriksen was faster than I had expected, however. I was just lucky that he too had underestimated his opponent’s speed>>>
STORY
25-Apr-2011 (2 comments)
دیگر فراموش کن که دست کنی توی سطل آب نمک و بلال برشته برای خودت در آوری. فراموش کن که آدم را توی آب نمک بخیسانی برای روز مبادا. شوری آب نمک که زبانم را گزید فهمیدم چه خبر است. نگاهی به دور و برم انداختم و دیدم، ای امان! این همه پری دریایی توی این حوض آب نمک چه می کنند؟ معطل نکردم و زود ممه خوشگل ها را سوا کردم و نقشه ام را باهاشان درمیان گذاشتم و جَلدی نامه نوشتم به لولو>>>
STORY
24-Apr-2011 (8 comments)
Eriksen’s needling continued until I finally had the chance to take my case to the formidable Mr. Cherret. In the schoolyard, Erikson and his gang had taken away my ball and were playing “keep away.” I was jumping this way and that trying to get my ball back. Hubble, the extremely tall, most senior of the bishops, heard the commotion and came over to investigate. Hubble was hard to read; his face had been chiseled in ice and hardly moved. It was reputed that if one were brave enough to look carefully into his deep blue eyes, one would see the cross hairs of a riflescope>>>
STORY
24-Apr-2011 (10 comments)
آنوقت ها، هر کس که می‌‌خواست "هدایت مالی" یا "چوبک سابی" شود، میرفت سراغ کافه نادری. انعام خوب که می‌‌دادی، پیشخدمت‌ها می‌‌نشاندندت روی صندلی این صادق خان یا آن صادق آقا. بگذریم که خود صندلی‌‌ها زوار در رفته و ناراحت و قدیمی بودند ... اما در عوض، باسن مبارک مالیده می‌‌شد به جایگاه آن باسن‌های عظیم تاریخی ... که در نظر اهل فن، اجرش معادل هفت بار حج پیاده بود>>>
STORY
22-Apr-2011 (one comment)
The old Owl was sitting at the edge of the world and watching life—the passage of life and its trail, that is. He saw men who became attached to the worldly things such as bricks, doors and walls. The Owl knew, however, that bricks fall apart and doors break and pillars don’t last long. He had seen so many broken crowns in the midst of ruins of this world and always sang songs to remind men that this world is temporary; He sang loud so men can hear but they didn’t care>>>
STORY
19-Apr-2011
I could not make sense of what the schoolma’am was saying, but watching her smiling red cheeks and hearing her motherly inflections, her impression of me seemed favorable. Finally I picked out the word “Mrs.” Which I knew indicated a married woman in English. How Mrs. Cherret went on and on. It seemed she was determined to teach me English by saying right there and then everything it was possible to say. The method worked, however. A few minutes after she began her barrage of gibberish, my textbook views on English vowels were radically altered>>>
STORY
17-Apr-2011 (2 comments)
He was Iranian and I knew about being Iranian in America but I did not know about being an Iranian beggar in America. I didn't know if we could speak about something shared or not. It was lousy not to know for sure if we could. The whole business of loneliness seemed to be moving towards the moment of meeting someone who knew about loneliness, but he seemed to have a vast loneliness in him, as big as the distance between the two countries and as locked away as the night>>>
STORY
15-Apr-2011 (4 comments)
On the drive to my school it was a surprise to see that the car had its steering wheel on the wrong side. We were driving on the opposite side of the road! But since all the other cars did it wrong too, thankfully everything worked out. Still, the direction of traffic felt odd, reminding me of what various uncles and cousins had said many times: the English are a crafty lot. There is always method to their madness and madness to their methods and they never let you know which is which>>>
STORY
15-Apr-2011 (2 comments)
A prophet passed by our house. Suddenly, a thousand love birds grew out from the small tree in the garden and sang us a thousand songs they had hidden in their small throats. Then we remembered that we are actually related to the tree and the birds. A prophet passed by our house. We had a thousand locked doors and a thousand keyless locks. He brought us a key. But just as we called his name, all the locks opened without the key>>>
STORY
12-Apr-2011 (5 comments)
این طور که شنیده ام، ماجرا از آن جایی شروع شد که روزی آقای لوتوس متوجه شد هر پاکتی را که با آن نامه باز کن کذا و کذا باز می کند حاوی خبری خوش است. و وقتی بیشتر دقت کرد دید بله درست است، پاکت های باز شده با آن نامه باز کن به طرز چشم گیری مسرت بخش هستند. وقتی این مطلب را به دوستش گفت، او را به شدت ترغیب کرد که دلش بخواهد نامه اش را با نامه بازکن آقای لوتوس باز کند>>>
TSUNAMI
12-Apr-2011 (2 comments)
همین حالا تمام سعی خودم را می کنم تا صبح نشده همه ی رویاهای خودم را فشرده و مچاله کنم تا خدای نکرده در حوالی سونامی، نم ذهنم از هم نپاشد. قفسه های آشپزخانه را خالی می کنم. خوراکی های یخچال را در ظرف های یک بار مصرف می گذارم تا فردا که در سنگرها هستیم گرسنه نباشیم>>>
STORY
10-Apr-2011 (11 comments)
The runway at the old Tehran airport did not run parallel to the visitors’ viewing area. After the passengers boarded, the plane, whistling quietly, trundled out of sight off to the side of the building. Visitors went back to their chatter while they waited for the metamorphosis to occur. The conversation was full of travel: “Don’t cry, he’ll be back before your tears are dry.” “On my last trip to Amsterdam...” “The best restaurant in Cairo...”>>>
STORY
10-Apr-2011 (12 comments)
خواب می‌‌دیدم که سال ۲۰۲۱ است و بنده در خدمت گروه شیمیایی- میکروبی- هسته‌ای (شین- میم- ه) سپاه پاسداران در تهران، مشغول کار روی ویروس اسلامی هستم. طرح ویروس اسلامی، اولین بار توسط برادر پاسدار پشمیان به خدمت مقام معظم ولایت فقیه رسیده بود، و ایشان هم مختصر پایین صفحه نوشته بودند؛ "نصر من الله و فتح عن قریب ... اقدام شود!"
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IRANIANS OF THE DAY
| Person | About | Day |
|---|---|---|
| نسرین ستوده: زندانی روز | Dec 04 | |
| Saeed Malekpour: Prisoner of the day | Lawyer says death sentence suspended | Dec 03 |
| Majid Tavakoli: Prisoner of the day | Iterview with mother | Dec 02 |
| احسان نراقی: جامعه شناس و نویسنده ۱۳۰۵-۱۳۹۱ | Dec 02 | |
| Nasrin Sotoudeh: Prisoner of the day | 46 days on hunger strike | Dec 01 |
| Nasrin Sotoudeh: Graffiti | In Barcelona | Nov 30 |
| گوهر عشقی: مادر ستار بهشتی | Nov 30 | |
| Abdollah Momeni: Prisoner of the day | Activist denied leave and family visits for 1.5 years | Nov 30 |
| محمد کلالی: یکی از حمله کنندگان به سفارت ایران در برلین | Nov 29 | |
| Habibollah Golparipour: Prisoner of the day | Kurdish Activist on Death Row | Nov 28 |