Home alone, watching myself to grow… Last seconds slipping away from my fingers. Another year, another story to write, another poem to recite… passing away for good. A biting feeling of getting older but not wiser. Hindi melody playing in my ears making me feel more romantic and emotional. But no tears, no laugh, as if I’ve had enough, of all of them so far and no worries about some pitiful beings conspiring behind my back and ratting on me. The feeling of compassion is surpassing my egoism as if I want to help those poor creatures to rat on me even more fiercely than before. Maybe it is the best thing to do: leaving them with themselves to rot in their obscurity and negligence as far as they get some masochistic pleasure out of it.
But indeed, I must admit, music is my language! And even little Gareth is able to make me speak and think and shout and cry and laugh and stay still with my index finger attached to my lips:
Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love,
I oh I need your love
God speed your love to me
Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea
To the open arms of the sea
Lonely rivers sigh, wait for me, wait for me
I'll be coming home, wait for me
And Ramesh wakes me up to realities:
Lahze lahzeye jodaiye
Ruze marge ashenaiye!
But I’m still as a stone, while the tide is rising deep inside. Especially when James Blunt makes me feel guilty:
Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
But I’m still behind my shell with the looks of a happiest person of the world. Another step up, another wing to clap, another tale to tell, another man to come… to come and change everything to find the paradise.
Prague
01.06.06
00:26
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Even Despair Inspires...
سرای غصه مرا سراب هست و آب نيست
دو چشم تيره مرا شهاب هست و خواب نيست
ندای جبرئيل ما همه دروغ بوده است
سروش مردمانه را کتاب هست و باب نيست
قناری های رستگی همه کباب می شوند
وجود عاصی مرا تناب هست و تاب نيست
:دو سه رقيب ناتوان به من پيام می دهند
زبان بی نزاکتم خراب هست و ناب نيست
به خنده ها سپرده ام من تباه گشته را
به گريه ها غنوده ام که
Lobby
هست و
Job
نيست.
:به من دبير مدرسه چنين پيام داده بود
نهاد ياغی مرا قواره هست و قاب نيست
Сарои гуссаи маро сароб хасту об нест
Ду чашми тираи маро шахоб хасту хоб нест
Нидои Чабраили мо хама дуруг будааст
Суруши мардумонаро китоб хасту боб нест
Канорихои растаги хама кабоб мешаванд
Вучуди осии маро таноб хасту тоб нест
Ду-се ракиби нотавон ба ман паём медиханд:
Забони беназокатам хароб хасту ноб нест
Ба хандахо супурдаам мани табохгаштаро
Ба гиряхо гунудаам, ки lobby хасту job нест
Ба ман дабири мадраса чунин паём дода буд:
Ниходи ёгии маро кавора хасту коб нест
"Dorudi" Memories
اگر کنار من بودی... ای کاش
:و می سرودی
Jak se mash?
مرا شايد شکيب بيشتر می بود
با يک کلام تو:
"درود!"
ولی هر چه هست از "بود" و "می بود" است
...و خاطره های "درود" است
Агар канори ман буди... эй кош!
Ва месуруди:
Jak se mash?
Маро шояд шикеби бештар мебуд
Бо як каломи ту:
«Дуруд!»
Вале хар чи хаст, аз «буд»-у «мебуд» аст
Ва хотирахои «дуруд»аст…
25.05.06 / 23:34
Prague
دو چشم تيره مرا شهاب هست و خواب نيست
ندای جبرئيل ما همه دروغ بوده است
سروش مردمانه را کتاب هست و باب نيست
قناری های رستگی همه کباب می شوند
وجود عاصی مرا تناب هست و تاب نيست
:دو سه رقيب ناتوان به من پيام می دهند
زبان بی نزاکتم خراب هست و ناب نيست
به خنده ها سپرده ام من تباه گشته را
به گريه ها غنوده ام که
Lobby
هست و
Job
نيست.
:به من دبير مدرسه چنين پيام داده بود
نهاد ياغی مرا قواره هست و قاب نيست
Сарои гуссаи маро сароб хасту об нест
Ду чашми тираи маро шахоб хасту хоб нест
Нидои Чабраили мо хама дуруг будааст
Суруши мардумонаро китоб хасту боб нест
Канорихои растаги хама кабоб мешаванд
Вучуди осии маро таноб хасту тоб нест
Ду-се ракиби нотавон ба ман паём медиханд:
Забони беназокатам хароб хасту ноб нест
Ба хандахо супурдаам мани табохгаштаро
Ба гиряхо гунудаам, ки lobby хасту job нест
Ба ман дабири мадраса чунин паём дода буд:
Ниходи ёгии маро кавора хасту коб нест
"Dorudi" Memories
اگر کنار من بودی... ای کاش
:و می سرودی
Jak se mash?
مرا شايد شکيب بيشتر می بود
با يک کلام تو:
"درود!"
ولی هر چه هست از "بود" و "می بود" است
...و خاطره های "درود" است
Агар канори ман буди... эй кош!
Ва месуруди:
Jak se mash?
Маро шояд шикеби бештар мебуд
Бо як каломи ту:
«Дуруд!»
Вале хар чи хаст, аз «буд»-у «мебуд» аст
Ва хотирахои «дуруд»аст…
25.05.06 / 23:34
Prague
The Great Pretender
by Freddie Mercury
Oh yes I'm the great pretender
Pretending I'm doing well
My need is such, I pretend too much
I'm lonely but no-one can tell
Oh yes I'm the great pretender
Adrift in a world of my own
I play the game, but to my real shame
You've left me to dream all alone
Too real is this feeling of make believe
Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal
Ooh oh yes I'm the great pretender
Just laughing and gay like a clown
I seem to be what I'm not (you see)
I'm wearing my heart like a crown
Pretending that you're still around, yeah oooh hoo
Too real when I feel
What my heart can't conceal
Oh yes I'm the great pretender
Just laughing and gay like a clown
I seem to be what I'm not you see
I'm wearing my heart like a crown
Pretending that you're, pretending that you're still around
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
London Leftovers
Hola there.
Back to the tiny world of misery and disgrace in a beautiful part of the world. Shiny Sun and drenching rain highlighting and cleaning the features of a tired city. A broken heart left apart from sweet peaches of the garden. I had a Week. A Week of joy and happiness beyond the appalling stance of my present being in Prague. London was still welcoming its lover with a huge open embrace. But the last thing I saw there re-convinced me that we all are inhabitants of a savage wacky world. I was puffing a fag by an annoying oversensitive automatic door that was interrupting our sweet-and-sour talk with a dear being.
A guy, ostensibly an Eastern European, was deeply into a bitter verbal fight with a couple of short and fat policemen. “You are not a man!”, he was shouting at one of them, trying to give the impression that the very saying presumably gives in his native language. That could be translated as “To naamardi!” in Persian that devastates the addressee. But the policeman just wobbled at his place, looked down and up again, straight at the foreigners face and muttered something upon his nose. The foreigner was not satisfied by the impression he gave him. He wanted to see a much bitter face in front of him, I assume, and he went on chopping some more broken English humiliating expressions out of his mouth. A police car arrived discreetly and pulled in. As soon as some chubby figures crept down the car two previously quiet cops started spitting out a threateningly loud “Get down!!!” and beating the foreigner on his knees to make him kneel. The foreigner was trembling under the increasing violent force upon him, but didn’t kneel at all. He was trying to keep his shaky legs steady and looking straight into my eyes as if begging for help. His vibrant voice could tell you about his shock and disbelief: “I’m OK. I’m fine… Why are you fighting?..”
“Get down!!!”, was the only thing the policemen could shout out. But he didn’t. Shaky policemen took him up to the car, put him in arresting pose, one of them was trying to reach the handcuffs stuck in his belt, but couldn’t. The other extended his own handcuffs to him to tie up the foreigner’s hands. They took him away with his rucksack. A typical English couple was watching the scene as well. The old lady smirked and mocked the foreigner and showed her disgust that “a Bulgarian!” had dared to oppose the British police. The old man smirked back and spat on the floor. A policeman explained to this supportive couple that the Bulgarian had been barred from his flight and advised to leave the premises. But he had chosen to argue for his right to fly. After pushing the unfortunate Bulgarian into the car policemen exchanged wide smiles on their satisfied faces and left the scene of crime. The crime of breaching their own code of conduct.
Tonight I wanted to write about something else. Actually about loads of other stuff, like The Da Vinci Code movie that I watched on its first day of release in London and about Craig Murray’s astonishingly revealing book called “Murder in Samarqand” to be published on 1 June. Some fragments of the latter published in the Mail on Sunday made me gasp for some air. A breath-taking jaw-dropping writing. Perhaps I’ll get back to it later on. Now I have to get my beauty sleep to face my self-proclaimed “adversaries” in the office. Ciao for now.
Back to the tiny world of misery and disgrace in a beautiful part of the world. Shiny Sun and drenching rain highlighting and cleaning the features of a tired city. A broken heart left apart from sweet peaches of the garden. I had a Week. A Week of joy and happiness beyond the appalling stance of my present being in Prague. London was still welcoming its lover with a huge open embrace. But the last thing I saw there re-convinced me that we all are inhabitants of a savage wacky world. I was puffing a fag by an annoying oversensitive automatic door that was interrupting our sweet-and-sour talk with a dear being.
A guy, ostensibly an Eastern European, was deeply into a bitter verbal fight with a couple of short and fat policemen. “You are not a man!”, he was shouting at one of them, trying to give the impression that the very saying presumably gives in his native language. That could be translated as “To naamardi!” in Persian that devastates the addressee. But the policeman just wobbled at his place, looked down and up again, straight at the foreigners face and muttered something upon his nose. The foreigner was not satisfied by the impression he gave him. He wanted to see a much bitter face in front of him, I assume, and he went on chopping some more broken English humiliating expressions out of his mouth. A police car arrived discreetly and pulled in. As soon as some chubby figures crept down the car two previously quiet cops started spitting out a threateningly loud “Get down!!!” and beating the foreigner on his knees to make him kneel. The foreigner was trembling under the increasing violent force upon him, but didn’t kneel at all. He was trying to keep his shaky legs steady and looking straight into my eyes as if begging for help. His vibrant voice could tell you about his shock and disbelief: “I’m OK. I’m fine… Why are you fighting?..”
“Get down!!!”, was the only thing the policemen could shout out. But he didn’t. Shaky policemen took him up to the car, put him in arresting pose, one of them was trying to reach the handcuffs stuck in his belt, but couldn’t. The other extended his own handcuffs to him to tie up the foreigner’s hands. They took him away with his rucksack. A typical English couple was watching the scene as well. The old lady smirked and mocked the foreigner and showed her disgust that “a Bulgarian!” had dared to oppose the British police. The old man smirked back and spat on the floor. A policeman explained to this supportive couple that the Bulgarian had been barred from his flight and advised to leave the premises. But he had chosen to argue for his right to fly. After pushing the unfortunate Bulgarian into the car policemen exchanged wide smiles on their satisfied faces and left the scene of crime. The crime of breaching their own code of conduct.
Tonight I wanted to write about something else. Actually about loads of other stuff, like The Da Vinci Code movie that I watched on its first day of release in London and about Craig Murray’s astonishingly revealing book called “Murder in Samarqand” to be published on 1 June. Some fragments of the latter published in the Mail on Sunday made me gasp for some air. A breath-taking jaw-dropping writing. Perhaps I’ll get back to it later on. Now I have to get my beauty sleep to face my self-proclaimed “adversaries” in the office. Ciao for now.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
B-E-A-utiful!
I loved this poem sent by Her today:
There’s one sad truth in life I’ve found
While journeying east and west
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
There’s one sad truth in life I’ve found
While journeying east and west
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Awakening
Today I replied to a dearest friend of mine and I told her how I feel indeed. I haven’t been here for ages and I thought you’d love to know about it too. I told her I was out of a purple bubble; that I had wider eye cuts, not sure if physically, but definitely I have them mentally. That means I’ve been chewing down loads of pleasant stuff for ages and not looking at some crap which could happen to appear among that too. I didn’t know how deeply our problems go, dearest. And please read it again, we have to fight it. We have to be even more decisive to crack it down and devastate it. I can hear you asking: what d’you mean by “it”. That “it” is too dangerous to name even here. It is something ugly like a creepy worm fed by our ignorance and stupidity called “regionalism”. I reckon I’m in touch with the roots of all Tajik problems at the moment. It must be bombed as America’s bombed Afghanistan and Iraq. Even more fiercely. We have to get rid of this bug to move on. Otherwise…. see you tomorrow dear.
Did you know that they call this radio station “ZBC” just because most of their Prague-based workers are from “Z” valley? I’m less lucky to have my roots in that valley as well. It reduces my chances to take my voice up to tell them off by saying: “F… off!” That is something that I had not reckoned with before moving to Prague. Because I was inside a purple bubble shielded by my eternal friends in Dushanbe. I’ve woken up to realities and I don’t like them at all. I wanna get back to that bubble, but apparently it’s blown up and there’s no way back to my comparatively comfortable bubble to deceive myself that we live in a modern world. No dear. We are far behind the schedule of the time. We had to be at least a hundred years farther than we are now. But the History is giving us a rare chance to correct our shameful blunder: LET’S FIGHT REGIONALISM IN TAJIKISTAN!
Did you know that they call this radio station “ZBC” just because most of their Prague-based workers are from “Z” valley? I’m less lucky to have my roots in that valley as well. It reduces my chances to take my voice up to tell them off by saying: “F… off!” That is something that I had not reckoned with before moving to Prague. Because I was inside a purple bubble shielded by my eternal friends in Dushanbe. I’ve woken up to realities and I don’t like them at all. I wanna get back to that bubble, but apparently it’s blown up and there’s no way back to my comparatively comfortable bubble to deceive myself that we live in a modern world. No dear. We are far behind the schedule of the time. We had to be at least a hundred years farther than we are now. But the History is giving us a rare chance to correct our shameful blunder: LET’S FIGHT REGIONALISM IN TAJIKISTAN!
Friday, March 03, 2006
First things ever
Bruce came downstairs to have a fag. Looked above and nodded with an obvious annoyance on his face. "Again", he said and introduced himself. I knew him via his numerous articles about Central Asia that appear now and then in different sites. By "again" he meant the whirling snowflakes that were making their way down to the little smoking square right in the heart of the building. While for me it wasn't "again". It was "wow! It's snowing!" The first ever Prague snow for me and I took it as a good sign for a new beginning.
Tried the tolerance of the organisation by writing my first Prague piece about Bush's South Asian tour and recorded it for the first time using their odd recording system. It seems to me odd now, but I'm sure, as soon as I get used to it, will not be able to see its present oddity anymore. I hope in the same way my new colleagues will overcome the oddity of my accent. They are trying too hard to ignore it for now and I can see it vividly. Let's wait and see.
Tried the tolerance of the organisation by writing my first Prague piece about Bush's South Asian tour and recorded it for the first time using their odd recording system. It seems to me odd now, but I'm sure, as soon as I get used to it, will not be able to see its present oddity anymore. I hope in the same way my new colleagues will overcome the oddity of my accent. They are trying too hard to ignore it for now and I can see it vividly. Let's wait and see.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Farewell, my city!
01.03.06
London is diminishing into a patchwork of residential areas and fields; uneven cuts and patches spread around the landscape. And even the patchwork is disappearing behind an endless flock of silver stranded clouds... Now it seems like a cotton field back in my country waiting for students to pick them with no anticipation of reward.
No, it's true and it did happen. I don't even try to pinch myself to wake up, because I am awake indeed. I left it behind. I closed a chapter of my life and am trying to open a new one. It was bitter to do that. "Bitter" is not that word to make you understand what I feel right now. I left a world behind. A whole world full of joy and sorrow. A real world that made me fall in love with it...
I left a voice down there. A voice that made me feel a traitor while I'm not. "Please come back. Miss your flight. At least for one more day... come back". And I was heading towards the boarding gate with a hope that something would turn wrong in my papers and I would remain here again. But then the jealous axeman (Lord Life itself) wanted me away. The sooner the better. And my papers took me through check-in points smoothly, as if I was sailing on a buttery surface up to my plane seat. It happens only when you don't wish it at all. "Murphy's law" they call it. In my dictionary it's got a different entry: Life's jealousy...
And now I'm here, in my new apartment in Prague. Filling the deafeningly silent room with puffs of curling smoke and watching them go up to the ceiling, fading and losing themselves, just like the human race. I cannot fathom why we have to follow a smoky path and lose ourselves somewhere along the maze of an illusionary cycle of movements.
Reading messages from there. Some of them cutting my heart into pieces and cooking them on the heat of my blazing mind. And the voice is still here, breaking the silence at times... Miss your flight, please...
It's too late to call Dushanbe either. She knows I need her now.
A while ago I got a call from the world I just lost. It was Behzad asking about my well-being. Well, what to say? Richard Templar's book "The Rules of Life" doesn't advise us to complain, because, he says, the only thing people want to hear is that you are fine. And that was what I said. But after a while I spat on the rules of the jealous axeman and told him how I truly felt and how much I missed my lost world already. He said, he would strive to give me back my lost world and that was what I wanted to hear. To make me believe in something unbelievable. He's still determined about his plans to launch a new TV channel and possibly that would be a way to get my lost world back. It seems I haven't lost the inhabitants of my lost world yet.
London is diminishing into a patchwork of residential areas and fields; uneven cuts and patches spread around the landscape. And even the patchwork is disappearing behind an endless flock of silver stranded clouds... Now it seems like a cotton field back in my country waiting for students to pick them with no anticipation of reward.
No, it's true and it did happen. I don't even try to pinch myself to wake up, because I am awake indeed. I left it behind. I closed a chapter of my life and am trying to open a new one. It was bitter to do that. "Bitter" is not that word to make you understand what I feel right now. I left a world behind. A whole world full of joy and sorrow. A real world that made me fall in love with it...
I left a voice down there. A voice that made me feel a traitor while I'm not. "Please come back. Miss your flight. At least for one more day... come back". And I was heading towards the boarding gate with a hope that something would turn wrong in my papers and I would remain here again. But then the jealous axeman (Lord Life itself) wanted me away. The sooner the better. And my papers took me through check-in points smoothly, as if I was sailing on a buttery surface up to my plane seat. It happens only when you don't wish it at all. "Murphy's law" they call it. In my dictionary it's got a different entry: Life's jealousy...
And now I'm here, in my new apartment in Prague. Filling the deafeningly silent room with puffs of curling smoke and watching them go up to the ceiling, fading and losing themselves, just like the human race. I cannot fathom why we have to follow a smoky path and lose ourselves somewhere along the maze of an illusionary cycle of movements.
Reading messages from there. Some of them cutting my heart into pieces and cooking them on the heat of my blazing mind. And the voice is still here, breaking the silence at times... Miss your flight, please...
It's too late to call Dushanbe either. She knows I need her now.
A while ago I got a call from the world I just lost. It was Behzad asking about my well-being. Well, what to say? Richard Templar's book "The Rules of Life" doesn't advise us to complain, because, he says, the only thing people want to hear is that you are fine. And that was what I said. But after a while I spat on the rules of the jealous axeman and told him how I truly felt and how much I missed my lost world already. He said, he would strive to give me back my lost world and that was what I wanted to hear. To make me believe in something unbelievable. He's still determined about his plans to launch a new TV channel and possibly that would be a way to get my lost world back. It seems I haven't lost the inhabitants of my lost world yet.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Before It Becomes Yesterday…
I never could really believe that this day will finally reach me and catch me in despair and torn me apart, but it did. And I do believe in it now, since the ugly mouth of my bag is wide open waiting for the last items to be dropped in. Just some more ticking of the clock, some more drops on my keyboard, some more melancholic songs playing on my laptop put on reverse and… that’s it. Meanwhile, James Blunt’s guitar is painfully weeping:
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me…
…followed by a Devdas song that inevitably brings up Aishwaria Rai’s image in front of my eyes: Hamesha tumko chaha or chaha or chaha… and the sound of her bangles that matches the sound of my hasty clock.
And Googoosh is hurrying me up by her brave acceptance: “Vaqteshe, vaqteshe, raftan vaqteshe. Vaqteshe, az to gozashtan vaqteshe…”
“Nepara” is painting a Russian reverie: «Они знакомы давно, Но только не суждено быть им вместе... Утром ничего не случится, Утром будет все как вчера. Грезы – перелетные птицы, Тают, улетают с утра...» Blood-oozing medley of my faves.
And how can I resist my strengthened crave for one more pain-and-time-killer Marlboro?
And how can I not love and hate February at the same time? The very month that gave me a refreshing breather and by leaving me behind (or by being left behind) is throwing me into March’s strange, uncomfortable embrace in a strange uncomfortable place. And throwing out me only, by cutting off my strong 5-year old London-grown branch adorned by plentiful dazzling leaves including the one I’ve admired most.
I would have never left this terribly lovely and lovingly terrible city of the world. I got too much to leave behind in here. But as usual, life is not my Mother. Life is an ugly Bush-like unfair blindfolded blind-hearted thing with a sharp axe in its hand to cut off the branches with ripe fruits of happiness; the ones that make it feel jealous. A little jealous bogey it is.
Seconds are whirling in my absent mind, falling down into my restless heart and sneaking out through my feeble fingers so expeditiously… Where have I heard that clumsy word before: ‘expeditiously’? Well, from an ally of the axeman who was waiting for my ‘expeditious’ decision; the very decision that is sending torrents of torment to me now and again.
Now I can hear Robby singing: “No regrets. They don’t work. No regrets. They only hurt…” Don’t worry Robby. I’m still far beyond regretting and I don’t know whether it’s good or bad. I just don’t feel it. That’s it. But this “no regret” habit of mine doesn’t shield me against pains & hurts at all, if that's what you mean.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me…
…followed by a Devdas song that inevitably brings up Aishwaria Rai’s image in front of my eyes: Hamesha tumko chaha or chaha or chaha… and the sound of her bangles that matches the sound of my hasty clock.
And Googoosh is hurrying me up by her brave acceptance: “Vaqteshe, vaqteshe, raftan vaqteshe. Vaqteshe, az to gozashtan vaqteshe…”
“Nepara” is painting a Russian reverie: «Они знакомы давно, Но только не суждено быть им вместе... Утром ничего не случится, Утром будет все как вчера. Грезы – перелетные птицы, Тают, улетают с утра...» Blood-oozing medley of my faves.
And how can I resist my strengthened crave for one more pain-and-time-killer Marlboro?
And how can I not love and hate February at the same time? The very month that gave me a refreshing breather and by leaving me behind (or by being left behind) is throwing me into March’s strange, uncomfortable embrace in a strange uncomfortable place. And throwing out me only, by cutting off my strong 5-year old London-grown branch adorned by plentiful dazzling leaves including the one I’ve admired most.
I would have never left this terribly lovely and lovingly terrible city of the world. I got too much to leave behind in here. But as usual, life is not my Mother. Life is an ugly Bush-like unfair blindfolded blind-hearted thing with a sharp axe in its hand to cut off the branches with ripe fruits of happiness; the ones that make it feel jealous. A little jealous bogey it is.
Seconds are whirling in my absent mind, falling down into my restless heart and sneaking out through my feeble fingers so expeditiously… Where have I heard that clumsy word before: ‘expeditiously’? Well, from an ally of the axeman who was waiting for my ‘expeditious’ decision; the very decision that is sending torrents of torment to me now and again.
Now I can hear Robby singing: “No regrets. They don’t work. No regrets. They only hurt…” Don’t worry Robby. I’m still far beyond regretting and I don’t know whether it’s good or bad. I just don’t feel it. That’s it. But this “no regret” habit of mine doesn’t shield me against pains & hurts at all, if that's what you mean.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Paradoxical Manchester
Packing problems in head, sour and bitter feelings in heart headed to Manchester, a city in the North West of England with an old Latin name: Mamucium + castra (ceaster). The first part is the name of a Roman fort that stood there from 79 AD onwards and “castra” (ceaster, originally castrum) in old Latin means fortification or castle and among Romans “castra” was “a rectangular military camp”. However, the contemporary Manchester with approximately 450 000 population neither looks like nor reminds a military camp; an ordinary peaceful town with more skyscrapers than in London (at least it seems so!) with no signs of the Peterloo Massacre of 1819 webbed by River Irwell, River Medlock and River Irk. A rainy city with annual rainfall of 809 mm. This characteristic of the city made me regret for leaving my “hoody” jacket behind in London, while holding an umbrella among the youth in Britain has ostensibly outdated. Thus, I had to find a bit of poetic sense (or nonsense) of raininess (or love to the rain) left somewhere deep inside to enjoy my clumsy trip of a stranger around the town under drizzling clouds.
Our first impression (with my friend) was not pleasant though. I suppose you agree with me that confronting beggars straight away after leaving the station in a strange place is not a good feeling, especially if they turn out to be very rude ones. That was our first encounter in Manchester immediately followed by a similar one. Young white guys (not minorities) with intact pairs of hands and legs (definitely a couple of healthy eyes too; for they recognized us as foreigners straight away) asking for cigarettes and annoyed by our reluctance scolding us: “Why are you lying?” I had to prove that we were not lying. Arming myself with the same sort of rudeness had I to say: “We do have cigarettes dude, but certainly not for you”. And believe me it works.
But the search for brighter parts of the Manchester life didn’t take too long. People (except for beggars) seemed friendly and polite with coquettish Manchester accent, streets were broad and clean with less traffic jams and different minorities co-existing (seemingly) peacefully. I noticed many Arab shops with Arabic names like “Safad” and “Aleef”. In the first one we had a delicious vegi pizza with a falafel wrap and in the second one I bought some poisonous stuff (namely, Marlboro) in order not to give away to healthy beggars. And while stunned by the Madonna-prices of hotel rooms in downtown I overheard a large guy fallen on an armchair speaking in Persian to someone over his phone. (Subject: he was leaving the hotel straight away to meet his friend - or whoever was speaking to him - in Piccadilly in 5 minutes, while enjoying his comfortable chair further on. Five minutes were rather needed for him to get himself up and head towards the exit. He-he. I know I’m too nosy).
But another unpleasant happening just before midnight made me rethink my idea about the peaceful co-existence of minorities and the majority: in an infamous American shop designated for fattening slim nations (namely, McDonalds) an unsteady English dude was angry about something with the sales assistant. Security guard had to ask him out, but he was justifying his behaviour by stating that the sales assistant was a Muslim. Surely, most of the English agree with me that scum of the society like him bring them disgrace only. (As for McDonalds, I have to shamelessly admit that I had a pack of their chips! Presumably I was unsteady too to visit it after such a long boycott!)
Manchester night clubs made me fall in love with the city again. Have you ever seen club security guards joining their customers on a dance floor? Their counterparts in London have forgotten how to smile long time ago and I bet they rehearse their voices at home to make them sound huskier and tougher (but they end up sounding rather funnier). No doubt, they are also busy auto-training themselves in front of a mirror to maintain the bulldog looks or of a person who’s survived a sexual assault by you. But now I’m talking about Manchester club guards that seem absolutely opposite, as if I’ve granted them my Mercedes recently. (If I got one indeed? No, just dreaming on).
Oops, it seems I’ve ranted enough for now, while haven’t said everything yet. Just briefly: on the way back home (it’s still in London; for a couple of more days) popped in Birmingham too. The second biggest city of Britain with a huge shopping centre just opposite the station. The crave of shopotherapy dragged me into the centre and that was all I could see in Birmingham: Debenhams, Gap, Topman, River Island and many more loud labels. And the area around the centre; nice and modern with a tall tower in the middle. Not as impressive as Manchester’s post-modern buildings though.
Tomorrow I’m receiving people from a relocation company. They will collect all my odds and sods to send to Prague. I will follow them shortly, Ahura willing. Excited? Not even for a bit. Why? Too long to explain now. Maybe another day.
Our first impression (with my friend) was not pleasant though. I suppose you agree with me that confronting beggars straight away after leaving the station in a strange place is not a good feeling, especially if they turn out to be very rude ones. That was our first encounter in Manchester immediately followed by a similar one. Young white guys (not minorities) with intact pairs of hands and legs (definitely a couple of healthy eyes too; for they recognized us as foreigners straight away) asking for cigarettes and annoyed by our reluctance scolding us: “Why are you lying?” I had to prove that we were not lying. Arming myself with the same sort of rudeness had I to say: “We do have cigarettes dude, but certainly not for you”. And believe me it works.
But the search for brighter parts of the Manchester life didn’t take too long. People (except for beggars) seemed friendly and polite with coquettish Manchester accent, streets were broad and clean with less traffic jams and different minorities co-existing (seemingly) peacefully. I noticed many Arab shops with Arabic names like “Safad” and “Aleef”. In the first one we had a delicious vegi pizza with a falafel wrap and in the second one I bought some poisonous stuff (namely, Marlboro) in order not to give away to healthy beggars. And while stunned by the Madonna-prices of hotel rooms in downtown I overheard a large guy fallen on an armchair speaking in Persian to someone over his phone. (Subject: he was leaving the hotel straight away to meet his friend - or whoever was speaking to him - in Piccadilly in 5 minutes, while enjoying his comfortable chair further on. Five minutes were rather needed for him to get himself up and head towards the exit. He-he. I know I’m too nosy).
But another unpleasant happening just before midnight made me rethink my idea about the peaceful co-existence of minorities and the majority: in an infamous American shop designated for fattening slim nations (namely, McDonalds) an unsteady English dude was angry about something with the sales assistant. Security guard had to ask him out, but he was justifying his behaviour by stating that the sales assistant was a Muslim. Surely, most of the English agree with me that scum of the society like him bring them disgrace only. (As for McDonalds, I have to shamelessly admit that I had a pack of their chips! Presumably I was unsteady too to visit it after such a long boycott!)
Manchester night clubs made me fall in love with the city again. Have you ever seen club security guards joining their customers on a dance floor? Their counterparts in London have forgotten how to smile long time ago and I bet they rehearse their voices at home to make them sound huskier and tougher (but they end up sounding rather funnier). No doubt, they are also busy auto-training themselves in front of a mirror to maintain the bulldog looks or of a person who’s survived a sexual assault by you. But now I’m talking about Manchester club guards that seem absolutely opposite, as if I’ve granted them my Mercedes recently. (If I got one indeed? No, just dreaming on).
Oops, it seems I’ve ranted enough for now, while haven’t said everything yet. Just briefly: on the way back home (it’s still in London; for a couple of more days) popped in Birmingham too. The second biggest city of Britain with a huge shopping centre just opposite the station. The crave of shopotherapy dragged me into the centre and that was all I could see in Birmingham: Debenhams, Gap, Topman, River Island and many more loud labels. And the area around the centre; nice and modern with a tall tower in the middle. Not as impressive as Manchester’s post-modern buildings though.
Tomorrow I’m receiving people from a relocation company. They will collect all my odds and sods to send to Prague. I will follow them shortly, Ahura willing. Excited? Not even for a bit. Why? Too long to explain now. Maybe another day.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Why Do We Quit a Job?
Apparently my decision to change my job has been based on a well-studied theory. It seems I could not adjust myself to the "corporate philosophy" of the corporation amymore. That means when you don't know where to situate yourself within the organization and when you cannot agree with your employer's philosophy and the way business is handled by the management. The results of the study have been published in The Career Journal that highlights four reasons to change jobs:
Four Red Flags That Signal It's Time to Quit a Job.
Off course, I didn't have all those four reasons in my decision, but on the other hand, the list of my reasons might be even longer than that.
culture clash,
meager rewards,
signs the company is going down, and
no possibility of advancement.
Four Red Flags That Signal It's Time to Quit a Job.
Off course, I didn't have all those four reasons in my decision, but on the other hand, the list of my reasons might be even longer than that.
Secret Trial in Tajikistan Appears Connected to Upcoming Presidential Election
Kambiz Arman 2/21/06
Eurasianet.org
The secret trial in Tajikistan of former key presidential ally underscores that President Imomali Rahmonov seems intent on choking off all avenues of opposition as the country prepares for a presidential election later in 2006.
The trial of Ghaffar Mirzoyev, a major-general who commanded the presidential guard, resumed on February 15. The proceedings, which began in mid January, are closed to the public. Arrested in 2004, Mirzoyev stands accused of engaging in dozens of criminal acts, including allegedly conspiring to overthrow Rahmonov.
In January, Mirzoyev’s lawyers petitioned to have the trial opened to the public. Authorities summarily rejected the request citing national security concerns. The case against Mirzoyev reportedly centers on "secret facts," according to a representative of the Tajik Prosecutor-General’s office. Qayum Yusufov, one of Mirzoyev’s lawyers, said the government’s ruling did not come as a surprise, adding that the petition was submitted with the intention of calling attention to the case.
Mirzoyev played a pivotal role during the early years of Rahmonov’s rule, serving as a pro-government military commander during Tajikistan’s 1992-98 civil war. Mirzoyev’s detailed knowledge of the Rahmonov administration’s decision-making processes and activities provide a strong incentive for government officials to ensure that the trial’s testimony remains sealed. In mounting his defense, some political analysts suggest, Mirzoyev is likely to offer testimony that is politically damaging to the president. Defense lawyers have hinted that they would move to call Rahmonov as a witness if prosecutors proceeded with the coup conspiracy charge. Given the trial’s secret nature, there is no way to determine whether or not the coup conspiracy charge has been dropped, or whether a verdict has already been reached.
What is certain is that Rahmonov has taken steps in recent months to eliminate potential rivals for power. The president has moved firmly to neutralize domestic political opposition. For example, in what many analysts see as a politically motivated conviction, Democratic Party chairman Mahmadruzi Iskandarov received a 23-year prison sentence last October on abuse of power charges. [For background see the Eurasia Insight archive].
Rahmonov also has purged his administration of potential threats. Mirzoyev appears destined to share the same fate as former Interior Minister Yakub Salimov, who is serving a 15-year sentence following his 2005 conviction on treason charges. And in January of this year, Rahmonov carried out a wide-ranging personnel reshuffle aimed at strengthening his grip on regional political administrations, local political analysts say.
On top of neutralizing political rivals, Rahmonov appears intent on constraining the development of civil society. In a February 11 interview published by the Vecherny Dushanbe newspaper, a Justice Ministry official, Davlat Sulaymanov, revealed that the Rahmonov-controlled parliament was debating a new law governing the activities of non-governmental organizations (NGOs). "Tajikistan needs a law stipulating strict control over NGO activities in the country," Sulaymanov said. NGOs should report annually to respective ministries and agencies on the work."
Vecherny Dushanbe quoted another Justice Ministry official, Rustamsho Megliyev, as saying the draft legislation does not at present envision "the strengthening of financial control" over NGOs. Most of the legislative changes are "related to the registration of these organizations."
Editor’s Note: Kambiz Arman is the pseudonym for an independent journalist based in London.
Eurasianet.org
The secret trial in Tajikistan of former key presidential ally underscores that President Imomali Rahmonov seems intent on choking off all avenues of opposition as the country prepares for a presidential election later in 2006.
The trial of Ghaffar Mirzoyev, a major-general who commanded the presidential guard, resumed on February 15. The proceedings, which began in mid January, are closed to the public. Arrested in 2004, Mirzoyev stands accused of engaging in dozens of criminal acts, including allegedly conspiring to overthrow Rahmonov.
In January, Mirzoyev’s lawyers petitioned to have the trial opened to the public. Authorities summarily rejected the request citing national security concerns. The case against Mirzoyev reportedly centers on "secret facts," according to a representative of the Tajik Prosecutor-General’s office. Qayum Yusufov, one of Mirzoyev’s lawyers, said the government’s ruling did not come as a surprise, adding that the petition was submitted with the intention of calling attention to the case.
Mirzoyev played a pivotal role during the early years of Rahmonov’s rule, serving as a pro-government military commander during Tajikistan’s 1992-98 civil war. Mirzoyev’s detailed knowledge of the Rahmonov administration’s decision-making processes and activities provide a strong incentive for government officials to ensure that the trial’s testimony remains sealed. In mounting his defense, some political analysts suggest, Mirzoyev is likely to offer testimony that is politically damaging to the president. Defense lawyers have hinted that they would move to call Rahmonov as a witness if prosecutors proceeded with the coup conspiracy charge. Given the trial’s secret nature, there is no way to determine whether or not the coup conspiracy charge has been dropped, or whether a verdict has already been reached.
What is certain is that Rahmonov has taken steps in recent months to eliminate potential rivals for power. The president has moved firmly to neutralize domestic political opposition. For example, in what many analysts see as a politically motivated conviction, Democratic Party chairman Mahmadruzi Iskandarov received a 23-year prison sentence last October on abuse of power charges. [For background see the Eurasia Insight archive].
Rahmonov also has purged his administration of potential threats. Mirzoyev appears destined to share the same fate as former Interior Minister Yakub Salimov, who is serving a 15-year sentence following his 2005 conviction on treason charges. And in January of this year, Rahmonov carried out a wide-ranging personnel reshuffle aimed at strengthening his grip on regional political administrations, local political analysts say.
On top of neutralizing political rivals, Rahmonov appears intent on constraining the development of civil society. In a February 11 interview published by the Vecherny Dushanbe newspaper, a Justice Ministry official, Davlat Sulaymanov, revealed that the Rahmonov-controlled parliament was debating a new law governing the activities of non-governmental organizations (NGOs). "Tajikistan needs a law stipulating strict control over NGO activities in the country," Sulaymanov said. NGOs should report annually to respective ministries and agencies on the work."
Vecherny Dushanbe quoted another Justice Ministry official, Rustamsho Megliyev, as saying the draft legislation does not at present envision "the strengthening of financial control" over NGOs. Most of the legislative changes are "related to the registration of these organizations."
Editor’s Note: Kambiz Arman is the pseudonym for an independent journalist based in London.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Historian jailed for speaking out… 17 years ago
Who else would dare to say that “freedom of expression” is a Western value? Realities are proving the contrary. Filtering Iranian web-sites in the US was not enough to show the whole picture, since America has always been a bit backward than Europe in terms of democracy. However, giving 3 years of imprisonment to a British historian (David Irving) was the best effort an Austrian court could have taken to show that “freedom of expression” is just another modern myth. David Irving is jailed for denying the existence of gas chambers at Auschwitz. He thought, most of 6 million Holocaust victims died from different diseases rather than by Hitler’s gas chambers. But (a big BUT), it was David Irving in 1989, in 20th century. And David Irving of 2006 believes that he was wrong then and he believes that “the Nazis did murder millions of Jews”.
Nevertheless, the Austrian court, keen to wash away the stain of shame from their recent history, decided to show the powerful Jewry of the world the drastic change in their natures: now they love Jews, the very Jews they used to torture and kill, and while no one is able to return them their stolen lives, the children and grandchildren of Austrian Nazis will punish whoever dares to doubt the fact of them being murdered by Fascists, particularly Austrian Fascists. Very moving! But not convincing. And not constructive at all.
Read the title again: “Historian jailed for speaking out… 17 years ago”. It is not happening in Iran; otherwise the entire Western world would have cried foul. Nor in other parts of the so called “third world”. Europe – the greatest “defender” of freedom of speech has done it. They’ve put in jail someone not for doing something, but for saying something. This is a sheer Stalinism reviving in a wrong place and it must be confronted.
By the way, Austria provided the best subject for the Iranian International Cartoon competition ridiculing Western double-standards. I’m sure dozens of cartoons would be drawn about such a perfect example of Western double-standards.
It seems US & EU have got their own selective approach towards some notions like “democracy” and “freedom of expression”. The Iranian Cartoon Competition is not recognized as an effort to exercise cartoonists’ freedom of expression and its sites are banned in America. But Danish Mohammad cartoons are a matter of freedom of expression, according to America, however, "the artists had to feel responsibility". An Israeli terrorist party “Likud” wins the election and comes to power in order to kill Palestinians with more authority. It is a matter of democracy, for US & EU. A Palestinian terrorist (liberation) group “Hamas” wins the parliament seats and forms a government. US & EU are stunned and outraged: no way! This is not the kind of democracy we want! We don’t accept this sort of democracy. Show us a different one; otherwise we’ll impose it upon you!
All empires get lost amidst their arrogance and ignorance and fall down into a bottomless pitfall of eternity. Modern empires are following their steps by breaking their own rules and values.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Can We Practice What We Preach?
Apparently the American ostrich is going deeper into its sand pile, but there are some concerns that it might burry itself under the pile eventually.
According to latest reports, some Iranian websites like Hamshahri and IranCartoon.com have been blocked for their users in the States and hacked for world-wide users. Because these 2 institutions tried to retaliate the Danish Mohammad cartoonist by announcing a cartoon competition on Holocaust.
They stated that their real intention was "to measure the sanctity of freedom of expression among the westerners" or in other words, to measure the extent of the Western tolerance. I have no doubt that their competition is a bad reaction to a bad action. However, they've suceeded to prove that the US government is as an ostrich as the Iranian regime. For those who are lost in this ostrich tale I advice to get back to our first ostrich tale on 14 February.
According to latest reports, some Iranian websites like Hamshahri and IranCartoon.com have been blocked for their users in the States and hacked for world-wide users. Because these 2 institutions tried to retaliate the Danish Mohammad cartoonist by announcing a cartoon competition on Holocaust.
They stated that their real intention was "to measure the sanctity of freedom of expression among the westerners" or in other words, to measure the extent of the Western tolerance. I have no doubt that their competition is a bad reaction to a bad action. However, they've suceeded to prove that the US government is as an ostrich as the Iranian regime. For those who are lost in this ostrich tale I advice to get back to our first ostrich tale on 14 February.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
...and Something More Important
Now let's forget about unfortunate ostriches and congratulate our halves. Happy Valetine's Day, T!
A Tale On Two Ostriches and Their Piles of Sand
What is happening to the BBC Persian web-site in Iran these days reminds me an ostrich that just by hiding its head under a pile of sand believes that the horrible dog threateningly approaching it has disappeared and there is no more threat that could bother the ostrich anymore. The site has been blocked by Iran’s new puritan rulers almost a month ago. Presumably they have used a censorware such as Smartfilter produced by the same threatening dog – the States – to filter the website. Anyway the American communication company Secure Computing had been accused by a research corporation called OpenNet of providing Tehran with a censorware. We have no proof of the accusation so far though.
But what is well-known is the origin of that kind of software, of course the US. They use it in various purposes including blocking services for rogue states like Iran. But usually it is not Ahmadinejad and his gang that feel the deprivation of any sort in the Internet field; probably they’ve already been provided with an anti-censorware by the same dog. It’s again those with a forbidden word in their hearts that have no access to some American domains, not able to download Google in their computers and deprived from PayPal services; the very site created by EBay; the very EBay created by Pierre Omidyar, a French Persian. It sounds ironic, doesn’t it? But it proves that, funnily enough, dogs can metamorphose themselves into ostriches too at times.
How far can you go by hiding your head under the sand? Physically, not even for an inch. Mentally, you will definitely go backwards up to the 7th century maybe or even farther and at the end of the day will find yourself in a deep and dark pitfall. Or finally will wake up from a deep sting on your ass left by the very threatening dog.
I just don’t understand why they don’t put their sordid minds at rest and move on. Centuries of wisdom have failed to make them understand that forbidden fruit is even sweeter; to be more precise, the ostriches have failed to realize this truth. Tight control over net-surfing and weblog-creating in Iran has put this country on the top of the list of the countries that host more blogs. As far as I remember, Iran was the forth last year with almost 70 000 weblogs. More than 7.5 million Internet users in Iran will not rest their hands on their keyboards and wait until the fruit becomes un-forbidden and consequently un-sweet. I’m sure a loophole will be found, only if not found already, and the bottom of the ostrich will be bitten badly. Ouch!
And the American ostrich has no reason to be proud of its sandy haven either. I know a couple of Internet worms in Tehran that easily can use PayPal transactions whenever needed after typing the word “ostrich” in their Google browsers. Hence, ostriches, beware!
PS. The first attempt to filter BBC Persian website in Iran occurred on 16 January, when all five veto-wielding powers of the UN plus Germany were plotting against Iran in London. However, by blocking the site the problem has not been solved yet, nor Iranian inquisitive writers have stopped questioning the crisis.
But what is well-known is the origin of that kind of software, of course the US. They use it in various purposes including blocking services for rogue states like Iran. But usually it is not Ahmadinejad and his gang that feel the deprivation of any sort in the Internet field; probably they’ve already been provided with an anti-censorware by the same dog. It’s again those with a forbidden word in their hearts that have no access to some American domains, not able to download Google in their computers and deprived from PayPal services; the very site created by EBay; the very EBay created by Pierre Omidyar, a French Persian. It sounds ironic, doesn’t it? But it proves that, funnily enough, dogs can metamorphose themselves into ostriches too at times.
How far can you go by hiding your head under the sand? Physically, not even for an inch. Mentally, you will definitely go backwards up to the 7th century maybe or even farther and at the end of the day will find yourself in a deep and dark pitfall. Or finally will wake up from a deep sting on your ass left by the very threatening dog.
I just don’t understand why they don’t put their sordid minds at rest and move on. Centuries of wisdom have failed to make them understand that forbidden fruit is even sweeter; to be more precise, the ostriches have failed to realize this truth. Tight control over net-surfing and weblog-creating in Iran has put this country on the top of the list of the countries that host more blogs. As far as I remember, Iran was the forth last year with almost 70 000 weblogs. More than 7.5 million Internet users in Iran will not rest their hands on their keyboards and wait until the fruit becomes un-forbidden and consequently un-sweet. I’m sure a loophole will be found, only if not found already, and the bottom of the ostrich will be bitten badly. Ouch!
And the American ostrich has no reason to be proud of its sandy haven either. I know a couple of Internet worms in Tehran that easily can use PayPal transactions whenever needed after typing the word “ostrich” in their Google browsers. Hence, ostriches, beware!
PS. The first attempt to filter BBC Persian website in Iran occurred on 16 January, when all five veto-wielding powers of the UN plus Germany were plotting against Iran in London. However, by blocking the site the problem has not been solved yet, nor Iranian inquisitive writers have stopped questioning the crisis.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Uncivil Civilizations Endanger the Global Civilization
On the margin of a comment left under my previous posting
Dear Esphandiar,
That's really funny. How could he be recognized indeed, that unseen mysterious prophet of Islam? But I think the cartoons have got some hints in Danish. I recognized there the word "profet". We can guess what it might mean in English.
As for cartoons, it would have been related to the notion or value of freedom of expression only if that value would be observed regarding anyone and everyone. Or if the infamous cartoons were drawn by a Muslim artist, it could've had an absolutely different effect to show the struggle for freedom of expression within Islam. Nowadays we witness another clash of "civilizations" and undoubtedly we are tired of that already.
On the other hand, if the same sort of cartoons were drawn and successfully published in Europe depicting Jesus Christ as a Bush-style or Blair-alike crusader or showing Moses breathing under a respiratory machine while holding the trigger of a gun tight in his bloody hands, I would have said: Well done, the West and western values! I adore you, I admire you, I love you!
But how can I like either appalling hypocrisy of the West or desperate savage pathetic retaliatory reaction of Islam? To me, both of them are coward and reactionary not worthy to follow. Both of them are bogged down in their shameless double standards. But it is hard to see the world in trepidation because of the clash of two uncivil civilizations. Do you agree?
Dear Esphandiar,
That's really funny. How could he be recognized indeed, that unseen mysterious prophet of Islam? But I think the cartoons have got some hints in Danish. I recognized there the word "profet". We can guess what it might mean in English.
As for cartoons, it would have been related to the notion or value of freedom of expression only if that value would be observed regarding anyone and everyone. Or if the infamous cartoons were drawn by a Muslim artist, it could've had an absolutely different effect to show the struggle for freedom of expression within Islam. Nowadays we witness another clash of "civilizations" and undoubtedly we are tired of that already.
On the other hand, if the same sort of cartoons were drawn and successfully published in Europe depicting Jesus Christ as a Bush-style or Blair-alike crusader or showing Moses breathing under a respiratory machine while holding the trigger of a gun tight in his bloody hands, I would have said: Well done, the West and western values! I adore you, I admire you, I love you!
But how can I like either appalling hypocrisy of the West or desperate savage pathetic retaliatory reaction of Islam? To me, both of them are coward and reactionary not worthy to follow. Both of them are bogged down in their shameless double standards. But it is hard to see the world in trepidation because of the clash of two uncivil civilizations. Do you agree?
Monday, February 06, 2006
И без тебя...
Монолог у порога Би-би-си
И без тебя можно грустить,
И вне тебя теплом не дует.
Душа томится и хрустит
И разум чаянье не чует.
И можно так же уставать
От сладострастной суеты,
И бесконечно задавать
Вопросы, как учила ты.
И без тебя солнце выходит
Из устарелого Востока.
И без тебя душа уходит
В глубины смутного порока.
И без твоей аббривиатуры
Стараются сломать замок,
Как на роковых карикатурах
Боеголовочный пророк.
Сидишь во мне, или на лбу
Как пластилинова липуха.
Тебя забыть я не смогу,
Консервативная старуха...
И без тебя можно грустить,
И вне тебя теплом не дует.
Душа томится и хрустит
И разум чаянье не чует.
И можно так же уставать
От сладострастной суеты,
И бесконечно задавать
Вопросы, как учила ты.
И без тебя солнце выходит
Из устарелого Востока.
И без тебя душа уходит
В глубины смутного порока.
И без твоей аббривиатуры
Стараются сломать замок,
Как на роковых карикатурах
Боеголовочный пророк.
Сидишь во мне, или на лбу
Как пластилинова липуха.
Тебя забыть я не смогу,
Консервативная старуха...
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Tajik Girl Challenges 7-century Mindset by... Singing
Sometimes we cannot realize that heroes and heroines live side by side with us and, alas, usually we discover it after they demise.
But it's better to notice it right now that we got one of them alive, lively and young or as AFP reports from Kabul, "sultry", who succeeded to put an end to ages of women's imposed silence on the stage in Afghanistan - Manizhe Dowlat.
We must recognize it and thank her for such a rocking bravery. She had to overcome fears of a war-stricken country like Afghanistan swarmed with blind-minded "puritans" stuck in the 7th century and she did. She went to cure the wounds and maladies of her own Persian sisters and brothers in Kabul and Mazar-i Sharif as the first woman after woeful domination of Taleban and Taleban-alike beings to unvail her face, hair and tastefully dressed figure as a free human being, sing and dance to show a better way to enjoy one's life.
I don't care a button if any financial or vested interests were involved in this perilous adventure or not. It sounds really preposterous to indicate that issue here indeed. All professional performers use their talents as means of their financial independence and self-preservation. But not all of them were ready to face the challenge of visiting their stuck and hapless siblings to take some remedy of music and joy for their exhausted souls. This step for a young and attractive girl like Manizhe derives from some extents of selflessness as well. And the sense of patriotism too. I am proud of you indeed, Manizhe. Well done, sister!
PS. The AFP report is hidden in the title and could be visible by a click of yours. Although it goes a few days back, but good things never age.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
IRAN FORGES CLOSER TIES WITH TAJIKISTAN
EURASIA INSIGHT
by Kambiz Arman
With Russia’s apparent blessing, Iran is pressing ahead with efforts to forge stronger ties with Tajikistan.
Tajik President Imomali Rahmonov paved the way for an expansion of bilateral ties with a January 16-17 visit to Tehran. During the trip, Tajik and Iranian leaders issued a Joint Declaration on Broader Relations, as well as signed agreements providing for Iranian assistance for several Tajik infrastructure projects, including construction of the Sangtuda-2 hydroelectric power station and the Shahristan Tunnel.
"Iran and Tajikistan are one spirit in two bodies," Iran’s official IRNA news agency quoted Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad as saying after he welcomed Rahmonov. "Broad and deep grounds have been established for bilateral relations and there are no limits to the expansion of relations."
The visit showed that the deep-rooted cultural ties between Iranians and Tajiks are capable of overcoming political-religious differences between the governments. Rahmonov is a Soviet-style secularist who has acted steadily to curb the influence of Islam in Tajikistan’s politics in recent years. Ahmadinejad, meanwhile, is the product of an Islamic puritan movement that wants to restore the guiding principles of Iran’s 1979 revolution. Following Ahmadinejad’s victory in Iran’s 2005 presidential election, some Tajik political analysts predicted a downturn in Tajik-Iranian relations, citing the two governments’ apparent ideological incompatibility. Ahmadinejad has proven such predictions wrong, however. Some observers speculate that US and European Union pressure on Iran over its nuclear program prompted conservative Islamic leaders in Tehran to set aside long-standing political and religious considerations in their search for international allies.
In the aftermath of the September 11 terrorist tragedy, Tajikistan developed into a forum for US-Russian geopolitical competition. The Rahmonov administration initially embraced closer ties with the United States only to later distance itself from Washington and return the country to Russia’s close embrace. Last October, Moscow and Dushanbe signed a far-reaching strategic cooperation pact that sanctioned the establishment of permanent Russian military bases on Tajik territory. [For background see the Eurasia Insight archive].
Given Russia’s dominant geopolitical position in Tajikistan, local observers say it is unlikely that Rahmonov would have made the trip to Iran had he not had Russia’s approval. Moscow has emerged in recent weeks as one of Iran’s main backers in Tehran’s ongoing nuclear dispute with the United States and EU. In an interview published by IRNA on January 24, Russia’s ambassador to Tajikistan, Ramazan Abdullatipov, offered a vigorous defense of Iran’s peaceful intentions concerning its nuclear program. US and EU leaders believe Iranian research is geared toward developing nuclear weapons. Abdullatipov stated that Russia would resist calls for UN sanctions against Iran and would maintain nuclear cooperation with Tehran "in accordance with previous agreements," the IRNA report said. Iranian officials have reacted positively to a Russian proposal under which Moscow would enrich uranium for Tehran’s use.
Iran had extended an invitation to Afghanistan’s president, Hamid Karzai, to visit Tehran at the same time Rahmonov was in the Iranian capital. Karzai declined his invitation blaming "bad weather," "technical problems" and his need to prepare for the donors’ conference scheduled to be held in late January in London. Political analysts suggest Karzai stayed away from Tehran so as not to jeopardize Afghanistan’s ability to attract economic aid from Western donors.
A few observers in Tajikistan express reservations about the benefits of stronger Tajik-Iranian ties. They harbor concerns that Iranian hardliners, acting in the spirit of 1979, could possibly seek to use Persian-speaking Tajikistan as a vehicle for promoting an Iranian-style Islamic revolutionary movement in Central Asia.
by Kambiz Arman
With Russia’s apparent blessing, Iran is pressing ahead with efforts to forge stronger ties with Tajikistan.
Tajik President Imomali Rahmonov paved the way for an expansion of bilateral ties with a January 16-17 visit to Tehran. During the trip, Tajik and Iranian leaders issued a Joint Declaration on Broader Relations, as well as signed agreements providing for Iranian assistance for several Tajik infrastructure projects, including construction of the Sangtuda-2 hydroelectric power station and the Shahristan Tunnel.
"Iran and Tajikistan are one spirit in two bodies," Iran’s official IRNA news agency quoted Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad as saying after he welcomed Rahmonov. "Broad and deep grounds have been established for bilateral relations and there are no limits to the expansion of relations."
The visit showed that the deep-rooted cultural ties between Iranians and Tajiks are capable of overcoming political-religious differences between the governments. Rahmonov is a Soviet-style secularist who has acted steadily to curb the influence of Islam in Tajikistan’s politics in recent years. Ahmadinejad, meanwhile, is the product of an Islamic puritan movement that wants to restore the guiding principles of Iran’s 1979 revolution. Following Ahmadinejad’s victory in Iran’s 2005 presidential election, some Tajik political analysts predicted a downturn in Tajik-Iranian relations, citing the two governments’ apparent ideological incompatibility. Ahmadinejad has proven such predictions wrong, however. Some observers speculate that US and European Union pressure on Iran over its nuclear program prompted conservative Islamic leaders in Tehran to set aside long-standing political and religious considerations in their search for international allies.
In the aftermath of the September 11 terrorist tragedy, Tajikistan developed into a forum for US-Russian geopolitical competition. The Rahmonov administration initially embraced closer ties with the United States only to later distance itself from Washington and return the country to Russia’s close embrace. Last October, Moscow and Dushanbe signed a far-reaching strategic cooperation pact that sanctioned the establishment of permanent Russian military bases on Tajik territory. [For background see the Eurasia Insight archive].
Given Russia’s dominant geopolitical position in Tajikistan, local observers say it is unlikely that Rahmonov would have made the trip to Iran had he not had Russia’s approval. Moscow has emerged in recent weeks as one of Iran’s main backers in Tehran’s ongoing nuclear dispute with the United States and EU. In an interview published by IRNA on January 24, Russia’s ambassador to Tajikistan, Ramazan Abdullatipov, offered a vigorous defense of Iran’s peaceful intentions concerning its nuclear program. US and EU leaders believe Iranian research is geared toward developing nuclear weapons. Abdullatipov stated that Russia would resist calls for UN sanctions against Iran and would maintain nuclear cooperation with Tehran "in accordance with previous agreements," the IRNA report said. Iranian officials have reacted positively to a Russian proposal under which Moscow would enrich uranium for Tehran’s use.
Iran had extended an invitation to Afghanistan’s president, Hamid Karzai, to visit Tehran at the same time Rahmonov was in the Iranian capital. Karzai declined his invitation blaming "bad weather," "technical problems" and his need to prepare for the donors’ conference scheduled to be held in late January in London. Political analysts suggest Karzai stayed away from Tehran so as not to jeopardize Afghanistan’s ability to attract economic aid from Western donors.
A few observers in Tajikistan express reservations about the benefits of stronger Tajik-Iranian ties. They harbor concerns that Iranian hardliners, acting in the spirit of 1979, could possibly seek to use Persian-speaking Tajikistan as a vehicle for promoting an Iranian-style Islamic revolutionary movement in Central Asia.
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