Monday, June 26, 2006

Some More Pain to Swallow

سکوت پراگ
و لحظه های شمردنی
ستاره های بی رمق
درون شيشه های مات
و انتظار جاودان و آرزوی مردنی

به صبج می رسيم باز
به رسته های بی ته معامله
تجارت درودها
تولد دروغ ها
و خنده های بردنی

به جرح خنده، روی لب
به نور کاذب شعف
...درون ديده های سرد
به دردهای خوردنی

Сукути Прог
Ва лахзахои шумурдани
Ситорахои берамак
Даруни шишахои мот
Ва интизори човидону орзуи мурдани

Ба субх мерасем боз
Ба растахои бетахи муъомила
Тичорати дурудхо
Таваллуди дуругхо
Ва хандахои бурдани

Ба jarhi ханда руи лаб
Ба нури козиби шаъаф
Даруни дидахои сард
Ба дардхои хурдани

Sunday, June 25, 2006

A Lesson of Fidelity

You can bump into all breeds of dog-kind in Prague and it doesn’t leave me astonished anymore. Nevertheless, yesterday one of them had a jaw-dropping effect on me again and this time it left me with watery eyes. A little short disfigured woman was trying to make her way down the street with two long sticks attached to her pits and a dog’s extending lead attached to her stick. She was moving very slowly and the little dog was leading her, barking around and making people give her a way in a busy Prague street. It was barking around and looking back at her maimed owner, gazing precisely at her feeble legs as if making sure she’d be able to take one more step. Then running a couple of steps farther and barking again. Then stopping and looking back at the little lady again. The lady stopped to take a rest and the dog ran back to her legs, stopped tightly attached to her legs too and now it was looking only at her as if asking her whether she was OK. The lady tried to move again and the dog made a move too, but this time it was walking step by step with its lady and after each step it was looking back at her face to read it. Reading with no noise and walking with her step by step...

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Why Is That?

I noticed a couple of striking moments in today's Mexico vs Iran match in Nuremberg.

The first one was to see Mexican players standing firm and confident at the beginning of the match, holding their right palms close to their hearts and singing their national anthem loud and proudly. Each of them was clearly singing the anthem while holding their heads high and looking at an invisible point somewhere in the sky.

Now it was Iran's turn. They were standing firm as well, but not confident at all. As if funny notes of Iran's "national anthem" were cutting their ears and none of them, believe me, none of them was really singing the song. They were just muttering something upon their noses and staring at the camera as a lost child forced to join a choir. And I noticed, some of them didn't know the words at all, since I do; and I was trying to read their reluctuntly moving lips and they were murmuring something else. As a non-believer caught in the middle of pious praying people. Why is that?

Second point: In the wide sea of Mexican flags, of course, you could see some Iranian flags too. But I'm sure some people were confused: how many nations are playing in the match today? There was no problem with the Mexican flag: the same familiar tri-color. But what about this one with a funny Arabic writing? Oh, is it "Allah"? OK then, it belongs to Iran. How about the other one then? The one with a lion and a sward under a huge Sun? Iran's again? So, how about the third one then? The plain green-white-red one? I can't believe that! Iran again?

Thus, we had three flags for a single country on the same day, in the same city, at the same match. Why is that? Can you bring another example of a similar identity crisis elsewhere in the world?

Despite the defeat, I'm happy for my fellow Iranians. The game was one of the tough ones with a tough side: Mexico! And the first half just amazed me with the dazzling performance of Iran. The second half seemed to be a mistake of the coach, who thought concentrating on defence would keep the score intact. Alas, it didn't happen. Nevertheless, it was a great try against a giant like Mexico.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Partying with Mowlana

by Mowlana
Persian (Tajik) God of misticism

Man gholaame qamaram, gheyre qamar hich magu,
Pishe man joz soxane sham’ o shekar hich magu.
Dush divaane shodam, eshq maraa did o beguft:
Aamadam, na’re mazan, jaame madar, hich magu.
Goftam: ey eshq, man az chize degar mitarsam.
Goft: Aan chize degar nist, degar hich magu.
Man be gushe to soxanhaaye nehaan xaaham goft,
Sar bejonbaan, ke bali. Joz ke be sar hich magu.
Goftam: In ruy fereshtast, ajab, yaa bashar ast?
Goft: In gheyre fereshtast o bashar, hich magu.
Goftam: In chist? Begu, zir o zabar xaaham shod!
Goft: Mibaash chenin zir o zabar, hich magu.
Ey neshaste to dar in xaaneye por naqsh o xiyaal,
Xiz az in xaane, borow, raxt bebar, hich magu.

Ne man manam, ne to toi, ne to mani,
Ham man manam, ham to toi, ham to mani.
Man baa to chenanam, ey negaare xotani,
K-andar ghalatam ke man toam yaa to mani.