I have received them ages ago, but publishing just now.
By the way, Abbas Javadi has introduced a new transcription in the RFE/RL Tajik Service borrowed from Turkish alphabet. I wonder how Tajiks accept it within the section. Anyway, you can see further signs of destruction in the service by the Turk:
1) Barnomai Sadoi Toza (Xiromon) laghv meshavad. Ba joi on Mezi Mudavvari
Javononro takror mekunem.
2) Tahiyyai barnomahoi haftagii Farhangu Andesha (to hol Shafkat va Saidkosim)
va Bargi Sabz (to hol Xolida va Iskandar) bu Dushanbe kuchonide meshavad. Az
hamin haftai oyanda Farhangu Andesharo Barot Yusifi va Bargi Sabzro Safargul
bonu tahiyya mekunad. Az in hamkoron xohish mekunam: 1-2 ruz kabl az tahiyyai
haftanomahoi xud mavzuhoi xudro bu Mirzonabi maslihat kunand, tarhu peshnihodi
xudro bo email ba MK va Praqa firistand. Tasmim va tahriri nihoiro MK mekunad va
agar lozim boshad man (va yo Mirzo va yo Nurmuhammad) ham maslihat medihem.
Xohishi digar in ast ki ba'd az tahiyyai barnomaho ruyxati guzorishhoi doxili in
barnomaho ba Praqa firistoda shavand to melum shavad kiho dar in barnomaho sahm
doshtand. (In baroi pardoxti haqqi kalam muhim ast).
Tashakkur, Abbosi Javodi
++++++++++++++
1) Barnomai navi xabari bomdodii mo (dushanbe to jum'a) oghoz meshavad.
Tafsilotro allakai muzokira kardaem. Soat ve soxtori barnomai subh (CLOCK) ba in
email ilova shudaast. Dar Praqa barnomai bomdodiro ba navbat yak hafta Xiromon
va yak hafta Tohirjon icro mekunand. Dar Dushanbe boz ba navbat Rahmatkarim va
Shahlo bonu mujrii barnoma xohand bud va baroi tahiyyai xabar va meqola ba
navbat Nosirjon va Barot ba onho kumak xohand kard.
2) Haftai oyanda soat va soxtori barnomai xabarii begohiro ham omoda karda ba
ittiloe hama merasonam.
Maksadu manzur az in soxtorho onast ki barnomaho nazmu tarteb doshta boshand va
tasodufi naboshand va ham mo hamcun tahiyyakunanda va ham shunavanda bidonad ki
kay, dakikai chandum chi paxsh xohad shud (albatta ba'ze holathoi favuloddaro
nametavon istisno kard). In dar ayni hol (maxsusan dar barnomahoi begohi) ba mo
kumak mekunad ki, guzorishhoro bo me'yori balandtar intixob kunem, guzorishhoi
beahamiyyat va yo kamahamiyyotro paxsh nakunem (intixobi guzorishho va tartibi
onho ba dushi moderator, sipas editor, sipas manast).
Tashakur, Abbos Javodi
++++++++++++++
Baroi on ki Bargi Sabz va Farhangu Andesha (ki az haftai oyanda dar Dushanbe
tahiyya meshavand) va vakte dastu poi hamkoroni Praqa boztar shud mo kushish
xohem kard har hafta baroi har du barnoma materiali xurde tahiyya karda firistem
to in du barnoma mahz va tojiki va "lokal" sado nadihand, balki perspektivi
baynalimilali ham doshta boshand....
AJ
Saturday, November 25, 2006
A Puzzled Puzzle
The atmosphere around me has changed entirely and I like all personages of my new chapter. Of course, I can see an utmost confusion on their questioning faces: Is he really from Tajikistan? Is he trying to hijack this purely Iranian cause and turn in into something Tajik? Is he going to weaken our positions? Is he… Even I am puzzled with the puzzle I have become.
But there is a huge difference between my last two chapters. In RFE/RL some of them were ready to strangle me if they could, take my heart out of my chest savagely and cook a shish-kebab to celebrate the victory of stupidity. But now I am facing pretty beings with a little dose of suspicion and a huge question mark on their faces: is he going to make our lives easier or is he trying to push us down to hell? I’m trying to assure them that the latter is nonsensical; that we are going to have a lovely peaceful life and I’m not willing to challenge our co-existence. Why? Just because I like all of them with no exception, since I can see humanity in their eyes. Maybe I am exhausted for the time being after my long trip to hell or perhaps just because I like them indeed: an extraordinary hybrid mass of human characters ranging from Hassan Shakiba to Hossein Derakhshan. Actually the latter amazed me the other day with his tolerance: two of my colleagues were grilling him at the pub down-stairs, but he managed to keep a broad smile on his happy face with thrilled wild eyes. Kamelia said she could see number 666 on his forehead; his reaction was just a broad smile again before turning to me to say: “Oh, I wish to visit Tajikistan, just because I like Tajiks & Tajiks who I know like me in return.” I encouraged the "Father of the Persian Weblog" to keep his pledge to visit my homeland to discover something fresh deep inside himself. He remembered my dearest friend Salim as “a really good person” (Hossein’s words) & had nothing more to add to his Tajikistani sayings. But that was enough to generate a true respect to him within me. A friend who likes my friend is more than a simple friend to me.
Derakhshan added one more thing: “Your today’s presentation was absolutely different from what we used to hear from Zamaneh before. It was really cool.” Kamelia said: “You gotta believe him. Because it’s Hossein Derakhshan saying that, a person who’s keen to criticize only; the one who’s really stingy in praising.”
We'll see soon if he was right or not.
Zaterdag, 22 November 2006
But there is a huge difference between my last two chapters. In RFE/RL some of them were ready to strangle me if they could, take my heart out of my chest savagely and cook a shish-kebab to celebrate the victory of stupidity. But now I am facing pretty beings with a little dose of suspicion and a huge question mark on their faces: is he going to make our lives easier or is he trying to push us down to hell? I’m trying to assure them that the latter is nonsensical; that we are going to have a lovely peaceful life and I’m not willing to challenge our co-existence. Why? Just because I like all of them with no exception, since I can see humanity in their eyes. Maybe I am exhausted for the time being after my long trip to hell or perhaps just because I like them indeed: an extraordinary hybrid mass of human characters ranging from Hassan Shakiba to Hossein Derakhshan. Actually the latter amazed me the other day with his tolerance: two of my colleagues were grilling him at the pub down-stairs, but he managed to keep a broad smile on his happy face with thrilled wild eyes. Kamelia said she could see number 666 on his forehead; his reaction was just a broad smile again before turning to me to say: “Oh, I wish to visit Tajikistan, just because I like Tajiks & Tajiks who I know like me in return.” I encouraged the "Father of the Persian Weblog" to keep his pledge to visit my homeland to discover something fresh deep inside himself. He remembered my dearest friend Salim as “a really good person” (Hossein’s words) & had nothing more to add to his Tajikistani sayings. But that was enough to generate a true respect to him within me. A friend who likes my friend is more than a simple friend to me.
Derakhshan added one more thing: “Your today’s presentation was absolutely different from what we used to hear from Zamaneh before. It was really cool.” Kamelia said: “You gotta believe him. Because it’s Hossein Derakhshan saying that, a person who’s keen to criticize only; the one who’s really stingy in praising.”
We'll see soon if he was right or not.
Zaterdag, 22 November 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
The City and Mum
Oh yeah, the city! Amsterdam is a comparatively small city with approximately 750000 people (Mehdi’s figure). I have not seen much of it yet. From where I am standing now (The Royal Institute of Tropical Studies!) I can see an astonishing huge Dutch windmill transformed into a factory (Mehdi’s information), a couple of sporadically erected skyscrapers and rows of small tin-roofed houses separated by wide and narrow roads and streets… The widest road is just underneath us; the one that crosses our street. Now it’s wet with the rain and shiny with the lights of rare cars cautiously moving in different directions.
…Mum was shocked that I had changed my job again. She sounded really worried, but I did my best to convince her that everything was going to be OK. That’s what we all hope, anyway.
…Mum was shocked that I had changed my job again. She sounded really worried, but I did my best to convince her that everything was going to be OK. That’s what we all hope, anyway.
Embraced by The Time
That’s it! I am in Amsterdam now with a heavy burden of thoughts in my mind and two physical bags on my shoulders. Zamaneh seems to embrace a dozen of very friendly smiling faces in a very amicable atmosphere. Perhaps after what I witnessed and endured at RFE/RL my perception of the Third Reich’s radio station would have been something similar too. But, no. Actually, my first impression from RFE/RL was something similar to my last impression and this fact gives me a greater hope that the black line of my destiny has been cut off by my departure from Prague.
Mehdi chaired a long meeting to introduce me to my new colleagues and to talk about his latest adventures in Tehran. My introduction embarrassed me a bit or perhaps I just did not know what to do while Mehdi was generously lavishing me with praises and giving some details of my journalistic past. It was really very kind of him and made me fonder to start working as soon as possible. My only job today was filling the chair of today’s “Guest of the Day” in the program and revealing some facts of my life that somehow happened to sound to me like I was bragging about myself, and I felt embarrassed again.
But today’s meeting demonstrated Mehdi as the real head of the station with an ample amount of self-confidence and authority who cares about each member of the team while anticipating a proper job from each of them. The team was listening to his words carefully, analyzing his statements, asking questions, reacting to his answers and listening to him again. All is done in a mutually amicable style.
As you can see, the start is ostensibly optimistic. Let me unfold the future or rather let the future unfold the events further on.
Mehdi chaired a long meeting to introduce me to my new colleagues and to talk about his latest adventures in Tehran. My introduction embarrassed me a bit or perhaps I just did not know what to do while Mehdi was generously lavishing me with praises and giving some details of my journalistic past. It was really very kind of him and made me fonder to start working as soon as possible. My only job today was filling the chair of today’s “Guest of the Day” in the program and revealing some facts of my life that somehow happened to sound to me like I was bragging about myself, and I felt embarrassed again.
But today’s meeting demonstrated Mehdi as the real head of the station with an ample amount of self-confidence and authority who cares about each member of the team while anticipating a proper job from each of them. The team was listening to his words carefully, analyzing his statements, asking questions, reacting to his answers and listening to him again. All is done in a mutually amicable style.
As you can see, the start is ostensibly optimistic. Let me unfold the future or rather let the future unfold the events further on.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Javadi's First Commandment
If anybody had a doubt in the truth of my words about the Tajik RFE/RL happenings, must be having a clear image in front of his/her eyes by now. Abbas Javadi, the new acting head of the Tajik section (with very strong Turkic affiliations who had written books to praise Pan-Turkism) has sent his first message to the section where he appoints his aids (Mirzo and Nurmuhammad) as "the editors of everything". The letter is in "Tajik" and it shows the depth of Javadi's hatred to Tajiks, if you take a deeper look:
"Hamkoroni aziz, salom:
1) Az dushanbei oyanda jalasa (telekonfransi) Praqa-Dushanbe soati 9:30 (Praqa) ye'ni 13:30 ba vakti Dushanbe barguzor meshavad. Shurui ruzi kori dar Praqa: 09:00. To 9:30 dar Praqa buroi Dushanbe barnomai korii Dushanbe va shahrhoi Tojikistonro ba hama mefiristad. XOHISH AZ DIGER XABARNIGORON (MASKAV, BISHKEK, ALMATI, KOBUL): To haddi imkon subhi har ruz peshnihodhoi xudro ba hamai bakhsh firisted to dar barnomarizii ruz doxil karda shavad.
2) Mirzo Salimpur (va agar on kas ba har dalel, masalan ruxsati, barnomai subh dar ofis naboshad va yo bor kori digar mashgul boshad) Nurmuhammad Xolzoda sardabir va hamohangsozi tamomi barnomahoi radioii mo hastand (Xabar, Chashmandoz va barnomahoi vezha). Yani Mirzo (ve ya Nurmuhammad)
n barnomai ruzonaro tarhrezi mkunad va baroi barnomahoi oyanda naksha va peshnihod medihand
n dar jalasahoi ruzona (soati 9:30 Praqa) ba tavri faol shirkat mekonand (va dar nabudani direktor in jalasahoro rahbari mekunand)
n edit/tahriri guzorishho: guzorishhoi Dushanbero Mirzonabi edit/tahrir mekunad, sipas moderatori Xabar va yo Chashmandoz. Sardabir ham kabl az paxsh onhoro meshunavad va agar lozim shud taghirot medihad. Agar lozim va maslahat shud man ham mebinam ve mudoxile mekunam. Dar Praqa guzorishhoi xabarnigoroni digar (Maskav va ghayra) ro moderatorho (Xabar ve Chashmandoz) bo kumaki texniki Sam megirand, edit mekunand. Sardabir inhoro ham mebinad, rohnamoi mekunad, maslahat medihad va agar lozim boshad, bo kumaki moderator dar guzorishho, tarzi guzoshtani mas'ala va suolho teghirot midihad Guzorishhoi Praqaro ham sardabir (va agar lozim boshad man) edit/tahrir mekunad. Sardabir dar zimn dar hamkori bo moderator va man tartibi guzorishhoro muayyan mekunad (navbati paxshi guzorishho).
n sardabir dar zimn barnomai subhro dar nazar dorad, dar borai guizorishho va xabarhori subh ba moderatori subh peshnihod va maslahat medihad.
(DAR HAMIN ROBITA HAFTAI OYANDA MIRZO DAR XABARI SUBH AST. NURMUHAMMAD SARDABIRI BARNOMAHOST. BA IN XOTIR ruzi seshanbe 14.11. az Xolida xohish mekunam Chashmandoz-ro icro kunad. Ruzi Chorshanbe boshad (15.11) Iskandar dar Xabar xohad bud (HE-i in haftaro takror xohem kard).
3) Dar barnomahoi subh taghyirot cori xohem kard. Maqsad onast ki fe'lan in barnoma ba tavri mushtarak az Praqa va Dushanbe icro shavad. Barnomarezi baroi in taghyirot hanuz idoma dorad.
4) Az haftai oyanda Xoliq Sangov hamcun web editor ba Abdufattoh mepayvandad. Abdufattoh va Xoliq fakat kori veb-ro xohand kard. Ya'ni
Dar Praqa har kas maqola/guzorishi xudro xud dar veb xohad guzosht.
Dar Praqa digar kase tamomi ruz fakat mashguli veb (OL) naxohad bud.
Dar Praqa moderatori Xabar va Chashmandoz (CHI SUBH VA CHI SHAB) ba'd az icroi barnomai xud matni moderasiyai xudro ba Xoliq va Abdufattoh xohad firistod to onho xabar va matolibi xabarii digari in matnhoro dar veb biguzorand.
Dar Dushanbe va digar shahrhoi digar (Tojikistan va ghayra, Maskav, Bishkek va s.) xabarnigoron MATNI NIHOII GUZORISHHOI xudro ba Abdufattoh va Xoliq xohand firistod to dar veb guzoshta shavad.
Sardabiri nihoi veb va mas'uli Forum Salimjon Ayubzod ast. Salimjon har ruz nigohe ba veb mekunad va tashehot/taghiroti lozimro medihad.
Tashakkur baroi hamkori.
Abbos Javodi"
"Hamkoroni aziz, salom:
1) Az dushanbei oyanda jalasa (telekonfransi) Praqa-Dushanbe soati 9:30 (Praqa) ye'ni 13:30 ba vakti Dushanbe barguzor meshavad. Shurui ruzi kori dar Praqa: 09:00. To 9:30 dar Praqa buroi Dushanbe barnomai korii Dushanbe va shahrhoi Tojikistonro ba hama mefiristad. XOHISH AZ DIGER XABARNIGORON (MASKAV, BISHKEK, ALMATI, KOBUL): To haddi imkon subhi har ruz peshnihodhoi xudro ba hamai bakhsh firisted to dar barnomarizii ruz doxil karda shavad.
2) Mirzo Salimpur (va agar on kas ba har dalel, masalan ruxsati, barnomai subh dar ofis naboshad va yo bor kori digar mashgul boshad) Nurmuhammad Xolzoda sardabir va hamohangsozi tamomi barnomahoi radioii mo hastand (Xabar, Chashmandoz va barnomahoi vezha). Yani Mirzo (ve ya Nurmuhammad)
n barnomai ruzonaro tarhrezi mkunad va baroi barnomahoi oyanda naksha va peshnihod medihand
n dar jalasahoi ruzona (soati 9:30 Praqa) ba tavri faol shirkat mekonand (va dar nabudani direktor in jalasahoro rahbari mekunand)
n edit/tahriri guzorishho: guzorishhoi Dushanbero Mirzonabi edit/tahrir mekunad, sipas moderatori Xabar va yo Chashmandoz. Sardabir ham kabl az paxsh onhoro meshunavad va agar lozim shud taghirot medihad. Agar lozim va maslahat shud man ham mebinam ve mudoxile mekunam. Dar Praqa guzorishhoi xabarnigoroni digar (Maskav va ghayra) ro moderatorho (Xabar ve Chashmandoz) bo kumaki texniki Sam megirand, edit mekunand. Sardabir inhoro ham mebinad, rohnamoi mekunad, maslahat medihad va agar lozim boshad, bo kumaki moderator dar guzorishho, tarzi guzoshtani mas'ala va suolho teghirot midihad Guzorishhoi Praqaro ham sardabir (va agar lozim boshad man) edit/tahrir mekunad. Sardabir dar zimn dar hamkori bo moderator va man tartibi guzorishhoro muayyan mekunad (navbati paxshi guzorishho).
n sardabir dar zimn barnomai subhro dar nazar dorad, dar borai guizorishho va xabarhori subh ba moderatori subh peshnihod va maslahat medihad.
(DAR HAMIN ROBITA HAFTAI OYANDA MIRZO DAR XABARI SUBH AST. NURMUHAMMAD SARDABIRI BARNOMAHOST. BA IN XOTIR ruzi seshanbe 14.11. az Xolida xohish mekunam Chashmandoz-ro icro kunad. Ruzi Chorshanbe boshad (15.11) Iskandar dar Xabar xohad bud (HE-i in haftaro takror xohem kard).
3) Dar barnomahoi subh taghyirot cori xohem kard. Maqsad onast ki fe'lan in barnoma ba tavri mushtarak az Praqa va Dushanbe icro shavad. Barnomarezi baroi in taghyirot hanuz idoma dorad.
4) Az haftai oyanda Xoliq Sangov hamcun web editor ba Abdufattoh mepayvandad. Abdufattoh va Xoliq fakat kori veb-ro xohand kard. Ya'ni
Dar Praqa har kas maqola/guzorishi xudro xud dar veb xohad guzosht.
Dar Praqa digar kase tamomi ruz fakat mashguli veb (OL) naxohad bud.
Dar Praqa moderatori Xabar va Chashmandoz (CHI SUBH VA CHI SHAB) ba'd az icroi barnomai xud matni moderasiyai xudro ba Xoliq va Abdufattoh xohad firistod to onho xabar va matolibi xabarii digari in matnhoro dar veb biguzorand.
Dar Dushanbe va digar shahrhoi digar (Tojikistan va ghayra, Maskav, Bishkek va s.) xabarnigoron MATNI NIHOII GUZORISHHOI xudro ba Abdufattoh va Xoliq xohand firistod to dar veb guzoshta shavad.
Sardabiri nihoi veb va mas'uli Forum Salimjon Ayubzod ast. Salimjon har ruz nigohe ba veb mekunad va tashehot/taghiroti lozimro medihad.
Tashakkur baroi hamkori.
Abbos Javodi"
Monday, November 06, 2006
Just Before I'm Gone
In few minutes Said Qasem will arrive to take us to the airport and that will be the real end of my Praha Saga. I will take with me some images: Taher - my dearest friend in Prague is still in front of my eyes. He flied away today as well, but to a different direction. He flied to Geneva and I'm really happy for him, since he really deserves it. The other day Massi called him "the sweetest member of the team" and everybody knew who she was talking about. So, that sweetest image is my dearest friend in Prague and he will remain among my dearest amigos for good. And of course, Said Qasem, who has been earmarked as "the most Tajik guy of the team" by Massi. Perfectly said. His kindness is enormous. OK, gotta go now, Said Qasem must be downstairs by now. Talk to you soon amigas e amigos. Bedrud for now.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Nashledanou, Zlata Praha!
It was on January 13, when I forsaw my future adventures in the Liberty, but still my heart was filled with warming hope and a ton of confidence. I was almost certain about developing similar qualities with them and said:
“And I believe that we can extend those ties even up to the new world of mine and we’ll finally find a common language and will develop the same sort of nasal and pharyngeal textures to comprehend and love each other. Only if Ahura will remain just beside me. Eydun bad (Amen).”
Today I was reading my pre-Liberty blogs and laughing as a madman; I could not believe how similar feelings could be at different times and different places. I remember meu amiga warning me about possible bitter consequences of my crucial decision to leave the BBC. And now here in Prague my new amigos e amigas are trying to re-convince me to stay a bit longer: “perhaps the future is bright.” Actually I feel it too; I feel the brightness of the future too, since there’s no other option rather than remaining hopeful. But lack of patience and the feeling of beeing extremely odd among this lot are probably my biggest motivations that are forcing me out of Prague again in the search of new adventures in a new place. It’s good that I had no enough time to fall in love with Prague yet and it would not bee too painful to leave this small and quiet town. I will just miss my really good friends in here and will cherish the memories of our shared time together.
This is the last time I am sitting behind my brand new wide olive desk in this old building that used to belong to the Czechoslovakian parliament in Soviet times. My PC was emptied yesterday, my ID will be handed in the reception for good today, my papers are in pieces in a trash bin, my rota still hanging on the edge of a blue board beside a paper that contains “15 Things You Probably Never Knew Or Thought About”. One of its points say: “The only reason anyone would ever hate you is because they want to be just like you.” But the first point of it is much more beautiful: “At least 5 people in this world love you so much they would die for you.” That makes you feel someone, even if it’s not true at all.
A beautiful green flower in a pot on the right corner of the desk has spread its two branches so wide as if trying to give me a good-bye hug. And just above it Ella Wheeler Wilcox’ terrific lines sent by T and printed out by me:
“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…”
Beside it a plain charcoal painting depicting presumably a street of Prague with its crucifixes, churches and domes… and empty alleys deriving from it.
Thus, another city lived by me and lived in me, while I was living in it, must be left behind tomorrow. Nashledanou, Zlata Praha!
“And I believe that we can extend those ties even up to the new world of mine and we’ll finally find a common language and will develop the same sort of nasal and pharyngeal textures to comprehend and love each other. Only if Ahura will remain just beside me. Eydun bad (Amen).”
Today I was reading my pre-Liberty blogs and laughing as a madman; I could not believe how similar feelings could be at different times and different places. I remember meu amiga warning me about possible bitter consequences of my crucial decision to leave the BBC. And now here in Prague my new amigos e amigas are trying to re-convince me to stay a bit longer: “perhaps the future is bright.” Actually I feel it too; I feel the brightness of the future too, since there’s no other option rather than remaining hopeful. But lack of patience and the feeling of beeing extremely odd among this lot are probably my biggest motivations that are forcing me out of Prague again in the search of new adventures in a new place. It’s good that I had no enough time to fall in love with Prague yet and it would not bee too painful to leave this small and quiet town. I will just miss my really good friends in here and will cherish the memories of our shared time together.
This is the last time I am sitting behind my brand new wide olive desk in this old building that used to belong to the Czechoslovakian parliament in Soviet times. My PC was emptied yesterday, my ID will be handed in the reception for good today, my papers are in pieces in a trash bin, my rota still hanging on the edge of a blue board beside a paper that contains “15 Things You Probably Never Knew Or Thought About”. One of its points say: “The only reason anyone would ever hate you is because they want to be just like you.” But the first point of it is much more beautiful: “At least 5 people in this world love you so much they would die for you.” That makes you feel someone, even if it’s not true at all.
A beautiful green flower in a pot on the right corner of the desk has spread its two branches so wide as if trying to give me a good-bye hug. And just above it Ella Wheeler Wilcox’ terrific lines sent by T and printed out by me:
“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…”
Beside it a plain charcoal painting depicting presumably a street of Prague with its crucifixes, churches and domes… and empty alleys deriving from it.
Thus, another city lived by me and lived in me, while I was living in it, must be left behind tomorrow. Nashledanou, Zlata Praha!
Thursday, November 02, 2006
The End of Samosa Saga
Michele sent the following message today to everyone in the Radios:
"I am very pleased to announce the appointment of Sojida Djakhfarova as Director of the Uzbek Service. Since July of last year, Sojida has led a very committed team through a dangerous and difficult time. The team has continued to produce excellent and hard-hitting news despite the harassment and intimidation of our correspondents in Uzbekistan and the forced closure of our Tashkent bureau. Sojida joined the Radios in 1996 as a freelancer for the Tajik Service in Moscow. She's been the bureau chief in Dushanbe, the Acting Director of the Tajik Service, and the Coordinator of RFE/RL's Youth Programs. Please join me in congratulating Sojida on her well-deserved appointment.
And congratulations to all the member of the Uzbek Service for their exceptional performance during these past 16 months."
That means their plan has failed. I congratulated Sojida by saying:
"Sojidai giromi,
That's terrific news. Before leaving RFE let me congratulate you with your new solid and certain position and wish you all the best. I wish you prosperous and fruitful years in Uzbek Section.
With regards,
Dariush"
She thanked me afterwards and invited me for a cup of coffee. I kindly declined the invitation, since Tajik samosas had not been mentioned in the message.
"I am very pleased to announce the appointment of Sojida Djakhfarova as Director of the Uzbek Service. Since July of last year, Sojida has led a very committed team through a dangerous and difficult time. The team has continued to produce excellent and hard-hitting news despite the harassment and intimidation of our correspondents in Uzbekistan and the forced closure of our Tashkent bureau. Sojida joined the Radios in 1996 as a freelancer for the Tajik Service in Moscow. She's been the bureau chief in Dushanbe, the Acting Director of the Tajik Service, and the Coordinator of RFE/RL's Youth Programs. Please join me in congratulating Sojida on her well-deserved appointment.
And congratulations to all the member of the Uzbek Service for their exceptional performance during these past 16 months."
That means their plan has failed. I congratulated Sojida by saying:
"Sojidai giromi,
That's terrific news. Before leaving RFE let me congratulate you with your new solid and certain position and wish you all the best. I wish you prosperous and fruitful years in Uzbek Section.
With regards,
Dariush"
She thanked me afterwards and invited me for a cup of coffee. I kindly declined the invitation, since Tajik samosas had not been mentioned in the message.
Thus Spake Salim
A letter by a dear colleague:
Dear All,
I have received latest news from the Tajik service being away from you. Looking from outside I should say that these news are regrettable.
Two members of the team are leaving us in a very climax of our progress and successes.
Massoumeh has changed the Tajik service very much in all dimensions, from the programming to our working space design. Maybe she was wrong giving us to much freedom and democracy in doing our job, speaking openly, stepping out of the «borders». She is a Westener, but we are Easterners with certain oddities. She was the rare type of bosses who clearly separate professional and personal relations. Sometimes I was not behave as a good person to her (Sorry, Massoumeh), but it had never been affected our relations as the team members, the same was with others. She taught us not to gain a credit by playing the role of a close aide-de-camp, giving equal chances to everyone and cementing our team. I will miss her daily post-broadcast notes that were giving me an example of good and energizing judgment. We all see her as a pattern of Friendly Soft Power.
Shafkat is surely a noble representative of the young Tajik generation with his own singularities and a large portion of «fresh blood» poured into the body of our team. However, sometimes the fresh blood causes allergic overreaction. He shocked us by his energy, knowledge, open mind and dress fashion. Unlike me he was not afraid of the microphone flying as a free bird on air. He has attracted many Tajik youth, who are trying to write as he in their e-mail messages as we all witnessed. Tajik papers have been reprinting his stories, causing discussions in Tajikistan. However, he was made us uncomfortable by his independent mind and stubborn resistance not to be like everyone, when he do believe he is right. I have been feeling myself much younger talking to him and I will miss this feeling too.
Let us to wish both of them all the best in their journey, if Shafkat did not changed his mind to stay in the team for sake of his listeners. Sorry.
sa
Dear All,
I have received latest news from the Tajik service being away from you. Looking from outside I should say that these news are regrettable.
Two members of the team are leaving us in a very climax of our progress and successes.
Massoumeh has changed the Tajik service very much in all dimensions, from the programming to our working space design. Maybe she was wrong giving us to much freedom and democracy in doing our job, speaking openly, stepping out of the «borders». She is a Westener, but we are Easterners with certain oddities. She was the rare type of bosses who clearly separate professional and personal relations. Sometimes I was not behave as a good person to her (Sorry, Massoumeh), but it had never been affected our relations as the team members, the same was with others. She taught us not to gain a credit by playing the role of a close aide-de-camp, giving equal chances to everyone and cementing our team. I will miss her daily post-broadcast notes that were giving me an example of good and energizing judgment. We all see her as a pattern of Friendly Soft Power.
Shafkat is surely a noble representative of the young Tajik generation with his own singularities and a large portion of «fresh blood» poured into the body of our team. However, sometimes the fresh blood causes allergic overreaction. He shocked us by his energy, knowledge, open mind and dress fashion. Unlike me he was not afraid of the microphone flying as a free bird on air. He has attracted many Tajik youth, who are trying to write as he in their e-mail messages as we all witnessed. Tajik papers have been reprinting his stories, causing discussions in Tajikistan. However, he was made us uncomfortable by his independent mind and stubborn resistance not to be like everyone, when he do believe he is right. I have been feeling myself much younger talking to him and I will miss this feeling too.
Let us to wish both of them all the best in their journey, if Shafkat did not changed his mind to stay in the team for sake of his listeners. Sorry.
sa
Nuclear Test At RFE/RL Tajik Svc
Дуруде чу буи хуши ошной ба так-таки дустон.
Ин нома ба маҳзи изҳори сипос ба азизоне чун Маъсумаи Турфа - аз беҳтарин журнолистони форсизабон, Салими Аюбзод – аз ситораҳои дурахшони журнолисми точик, Мирзонабии Холиқзод, Абдулқайюми Қайюмзод, Тоҳири Сафар, Расули Шодон, Ҳумоюни Шаҳриёр, Назруллоҳи Латиф ва тамомии бачаҳои “Озодй” дар Точикистон, Саидқосими Қиёмпур, Фарангиси Начибуллоҳ, Искандари Хоча Мирзода, Маъсуми Муҳаммадрачаб, Носирчони Маъмурзода, Насибчони Амонй, Мирасрори Фарғонй, Муҳаммадраҳими Сайдар, Латифи Латифй ва дусти нодидаву умедбахшам Каюмарси Ато навишта шудааст. Агар номи азизе аз қалам уфтод, бо бузургвории худ бибахшед. Ин ҳама афроде ҳастанд, ки ба гунае хотироти хушеро дар зеҳни ман ба чо гузоштаанд. Аммо он чи дар поин меояд, аз ин хотирот то андозае мутафовит аст.
Туфони дасисаҳое, ки бо вуруди ман ба родю Озодй бапо шуда буд, интизор меравад бо рафтанам фуру бинишинад. Аз ҳамин ҳоло нишонаҳояш ошкор аст ва қобили дилгармй. Ҳадафи ман ҳам мондагорй набуд. Озодй ба унвони танҳо родюи хоричй, ки барои Точикистон ин ҳама соъат дар руз барнома пахш мекунад, ҳамеша бароям чолиби таваччуҳ буд, аммо ҳаргиз то пои Маъсума ба ин чо нарасид, орзуи пайвастан ба онро надоштам. То кунун он чи лозим буд, барои барномаҳо анҷом додам ва “Озодй”-ро ба ҳадде, ки лозим буд (шояд ҳам беш аз ҳад), шинохтам. Бо ин ки мудирияти созмон хостори боқй мондани ман буд ва дустони азизе талош карданд маро ба мондан мутақоъид кунанд, тарҷеҳ додам биравам ва афродеро, ки аз ман эҳсоси хатар мекарданду мекунанд, осуда бигзорам, то пораи ноне, ки шояд манзури ниҳоишон аст, аз даҳонашон науфтад.
Шояд ин суханон барои бархе густохона ба назар бирасад ва мумкин аст тасмими ман барои иддае кудакона чилва кунад, аммо ин воқеъиятест, ки бо ду чашми дил метавон диду эҳсос кард. Дар як чунин ҳолате наметавон зист ва боз ҳам руноманигор боқй монд. Рузноманигорй ва ҳуввияти миллй ба сароб мепайвандад ва орзуҳои дунёии беарзише чои онро мегирад. Суҳбатҳо аз моварои пулу ғайбат фаротар намеравад ва равон ба гандоба мерезад. Ва дар ниҳоят, вучуди инсон ба як аломати суол табдил мешавад: Барои чй? Будан барои чист? Ва пучгарой имрузу охирататро метанад.
Ин тасвири раъшаовар, ки гуфтам, воқеъист, албатта, шомили ҳоли ҳамаи азизон дар Прог намешавад, аммо ҳама ин ҳолатҳоро аз наздик мушоҳида мекунем, медонем, бар сари он баҳс мекунем ва роҳи ҳалле ҳам намеёбем. Сурату сирати шуморе аз дустони қадимиам, ки ин чо зиндагй дубора моро ба ҳам овард, боваркарданй набуд. Эй кош дубора надида будам ва ҳамон тасвири нопухта дар зеҳни кудаконаам монда буд. Ҳамин чеҳраҳо маро аз ояндаам дар “Озодй” бим доданд. Ҳаминҳо маро ба кунчи риққат нишонданд, то ба андозае бинишинаму ба ҳолашон дилам бисузад, ки бидуни ин ки кафшамро пеши поям гузошта бошанд, бисотамро чамъ кунаму биравам.
Ман дар ин бора боз ҳам хоҳам гуфт ва хоҳам навишт. То замоне хоҳам гуфт, ки диди ҳамагон ба Точикистон иваз шавад. То замоне ки Точикистонро танҳо мухтассу вижаи худ надонем. Он ба афроде мисли ман ҳам таъаллуқ дорад ва ифтихори точик будан ҳамвора бо ман будаасту хоҳад монд. Ҳиссе, ки дар чашмони баъзеҳо ба чизе дигар табдил шуда. Чизе, ки бештар ба ҳақорату худкеҳтарбинй мемонад ва намедонам чаро ранги сабз дорад… Ва нуктаи талхтар ин ки ин афрод он чи мехостанд, нашуд. Оё бояд мутаассиф буд? Худ донед.
Ва аммо ҳамон гуна ки дар боло зикр шуд, як хирвор хотироти хуше ҳам бо ман ин сохтмонро тарк мекунад ва тушаи роҳам хоҳад буд. Ин тушаҳо бар пушт ва таъми самбусаи точикй дар ком шуморо ба Парвардигори якто месупорам. Чашми равонатон ҳамеша равшан ва қалбатон кошонаи нур бод.
Дориюш
PS: Тамос бо ман аз тариқи пайки электруники darius.rajabian@hotmail.com мумкин хоҳад буд.
Sent to RFE/RL Tajik team on 02 November 2006
Ин нома ба маҳзи изҳори сипос ба азизоне чун Маъсумаи Турфа - аз беҳтарин журнолистони форсизабон, Салими Аюбзод – аз ситораҳои дурахшони журнолисми точик, Мирзонабии Холиқзод, Абдулқайюми Қайюмзод, Тоҳири Сафар, Расули Шодон, Ҳумоюни Шаҳриёр, Назруллоҳи Латиф ва тамомии бачаҳои “Озодй” дар Точикистон, Саидқосими Қиёмпур, Фарангиси Начибуллоҳ, Искандари Хоча Мирзода, Маъсуми Муҳаммадрачаб, Носирчони Маъмурзода, Насибчони Амонй, Мирасрори Фарғонй, Муҳаммадраҳими Сайдар, Латифи Латифй ва дусти нодидаву умедбахшам Каюмарси Ато навишта шудааст. Агар номи азизе аз қалам уфтод, бо бузургвории худ бибахшед. Ин ҳама афроде ҳастанд, ки ба гунае хотироти хушеро дар зеҳни ман ба чо гузоштаанд. Аммо он чи дар поин меояд, аз ин хотирот то андозае мутафовит аст.
Туфони дасисаҳое, ки бо вуруди ман ба родю Озодй бапо шуда буд, интизор меравад бо рафтанам фуру бинишинад. Аз ҳамин ҳоло нишонаҳояш ошкор аст ва қобили дилгармй. Ҳадафи ман ҳам мондагорй набуд. Озодй ба унвони танҳо родюи хоричй, ки барои Точикистон ин ҳама соъат дар руз барнома пахш мекунад, ҳамеша бароям чолиби таваччуҳ буд, аммо ҳаргиз то пои Маъсума ба ин чо нарасид, орзуи пайвастан ба онро надоштам. То кунун он чи лозим буд, барои барномаҳо анҷом додам ва “Озодй”-ро ба ҳадде, ки лозим буд (шояд ҳам беш аз ҳад), шинохтам. Бо ин ки мудирияти созмон хостори боқй мондани ман буд ва дустони азизе талош карданд маро ба мондан мутақоъид кунанд, тарҷеҳ додам биравам ва афродеро, ки аз ман эҳсоси хатар мекарданду мекунанд, осуда бигзорам, то пораи ноне, ки шояд манзури ниҳоишон аст, аз даҳонашон науфтад.
Шояд ин суханон барои бархе густохона ба назар бирасад ва мумкин аст тасмими ман барои иддае кудакона чилва кунад, аммо ин воқеъиятест, ки бо ду чашми дил метавон диду эҳсос кард. Дар як чунин ҳолате наметавон зист ва боз ҳам руноманигор боқй монд. Рузноманигорй ва ҳуввияти миллй ба сароб мепайвандад ва орзуҳои дунёии беарзише чои онро мегирад. Суҳбатҳо аз моварои пулу ғайбат фаротар намеравад ва равон ба гандоба мерезад. Ва дар ниҳоят, вучуди инсон ба як аломати суол табдил мешавад: Барои чй? Будан барои чист? Ва пучгарой имрузу охирататро метанад.
Ин тасвири раъшаовар, ки гуфтам, воқеъист, албатта, шомили ҳоли ҳамаи азизон дар Прог намешавад, аммо ҳама ин ҳолатҳоро аз наздик мушоҳида мекунем, медонем, бар сари он баҳс мекунем ва роҳи ҳалле ҳам намеёбем. Сурату сирати шуморе аз дустони қадимиам, ки ин чо зиндагй дубора моро ба ҳам овард, боваркарданй набуд. Эй кош дубора надида будам ва ҳамон тасвири нопухта дар зеҳни кудаконаам монда буд. Ҳамин чеҳраҳо маро аз ояндаам дар “Озодй” бим доданд. Ҳаминҳо маро ба кунчи риққат нишонданд, то ба андозае бинишинаму ба ҳолашон дилам бисузад, ки бидуни ин ки кафшамро пеши поям гузошта бошанд, бисотамро чамъ кунаму биравам.
Ман дар ин бора боз ҳам хоҳам гуфт ва хоҳам навишт. То замоне хоҳам гуфт, ки диди ҳамагон ба Точикистон иваз шавад. То замоне ки Точикистонро танҳо мухтассу вижаи худ надонем. Он ба афроде мисли ман ҳам таъаллуқ дорад ва ифтихори точик будан ҳамвора бо ман будаасту хоҳад монд. Ҳиссе, ки дар чашмони баъзеҳо ба чизе дигар табдил шуда. Чизе, ки бештар ба ҳақорату худкеҳтарбинй мемонад ва намедонам чаро ранги сабз дорад… Ва нуктаи талхтар ин ки ин афрод он чи мехостанд, нашуд. Оё бояд мутаассиф буд? Худ донед.
Ва аммо ҳамон гуна ки дар боло зикр шуд, як хирвор хотироти хуше ҳам бо ман ин сохтмонро тарк мекунад ва тушаи роҳам хоҳад буд. Ин тушаҳо бар пушт ва таъми самбусаи точикй дар ком шуморо ба Парвардигори якто месупорам. Чашми равонатон ҳамеша равшан ва қалбатон кошонаи нур бод.
Дориюш
PS: Тамос бо ман аз тариқи пайки электруники darius.rajabian@hotmail.com мумкин хоҳад буд.
Sent to RFE/RL Tajik team on 02 November 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
She's Leaving Now Indeed
در حاشيه پيام استعفای معصومه طرفه
بدون تو سراب ما سراب گونه تر شود
جهنمی بتر شود، ز آب گونه تر شود
دو سه سفير اهرمن به هم پيام می دهند:
"خوشا سعادت فراق! زبون ما زبر شود!"
خيال خام و کثر نام مجالشان نمی دهد
و تير جسته شرور روانه سپر شود
سر بلند رفتنت دل حسود را شکست
سر به ته فتاده اش کنون فکنده تر شود
در اين سرای تاجيکی تو را حبيب بيشتر است
رقيب نا ستوده ات نهايتا هدر شود
داريوش
25 اکتبر 2006
Дар хошияи паёми истеъфои Маъсумаи Турфа
Бидуни ту сароби мо саробгунатар шавад,
Чаханнаме батар шавад, зи об гуна тар шавад.
Ду-се сафири Ахриман ба хам паём медиханд:
Хушо саъодати фирок! Забуни мо забар шавад!
Хаёли хому касри ном мачолашон намедихад,
Ва тири частаи шарур равонаи сипар шавад.
Сари баланди рафтанат дили хасудро шикаст,
Сари ба тах фитодааш кунун фикандатар шавад.
Дар ин сарои точики туро хабиб бештар аст,
Ракиби носутудаат нихоятан хадар шавад.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Is It Over Again?
I’m hearing tearful voices over the phone and seeing happy faces at times these days. But the shock is overwhelming indeed. They cannot believe what’s happening now. Tens of thousands of dollars are being neglected by a proud guy and that guy is me.
Behaviors have changed in order to sweeten the bitterness of our short co-existance. I’m receiving plentiful of messages of friendship from my “regretful” foes: “please re-visit your decision and be patient a bit more… Everything is going to change”.
The management is keen to see me and is offering me new job opportunities, paving my way to climb up the dig they’d dug for me before.
How can I translate my present feeling of annoyance to them? Tajik Service and a service to Tajik people were only causes I joined them in Prague. I saw something I could never imagine before and I’m happy I did it.
Now it’s time to pick up my stuff and sing a farewell song: “Vaqteshe, vaqteshe, raftan vaqteshe, Vaqteshe, az to gozashtan vaqteshe.” They have never witnessed a similar scene of having enough of their crap and leaving, just leaving without being kicked out. Just leaving, because they seem too miserable and intolerable. Just because the meaning of their lives have turned green as on dollar banknotes. Just because human nature has encountered a real catastrophe among this bunch of beings. Just because you want to have some fresh air in your lungs you’ve been waiting for ages… By the way, my lungs are cleaner now, free of fag pollution deep inside.
Yeah, I quit smoking just now, when I really need some pollution deep inside to make me feel dirty and momentarily joyful for a while… But I got some faces to bear in my mind and heart: Massi the Just, Taher the Sufferer, Rasul the Beginner, Salim the Doubtful, Saidqasem the Worried. I love all of them and will remain with them as long as my lungs are still functioning. I started spitting blood lately though and don’t think I possess a couple of healthy lungs anymore.
Anyway, another chapter is over. Another fight is fought. Another laughter is laughed. Another tear is dropped. Another page is turned and it’s me again with my beloved ones heading to a new destination. At the end of the day, that planet in the picture belongs to us. Let's explore it!
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Incumbent President's Legitimacy Under Question
Few days ago I got back from my boring night shift early in the morning and obviously could not go to bed straight away; sunrays were too beautiful to ignore. Opened my lap-top and started chatting with Esfandiar in Dushanbe who was trying to begin his working day, but found himself under numerous annoying questions of a sleepless buddy far away in Prague.
Apparently he had talked to a couple of Social Democrats about the 2003 Constitutional Amendments and their impact on the incumbent president. He opened my eyes to a terrific fact that visibly demonstrates illegitimacy of Emamali Rahmanov’s candidacy in the forth-coming election.
We had talked about it with Rahmatollah Zaerov (the leader of Social Democrats) so many times before at the BBC, but his answers were too vague to clarify what was happening indeed. But I knew that Zaerov’s position had shaken up the government on those days. It was a couple of years ago. Zaerov was widely ignored by the local media and the government; he himself finished up at a hospital bed with a stroke. However, after I started studying the case with Esfandiar’s help, a horrible picture started unfolding:
Following a national referendum in Tajikistan in 2003, where we were supposed to approve or disapprove 56 constitutional changes at once, it was announced that Emamali Rahmanov had been allowed to run for another two terms – in 2006 and 2013. But there is a chapter called “Transitional regulations” at the bottom of the very Constitutional Amendments and one of its paragraphs reads (word by word):
“3. Presidential elections for two successive terms, stipulated by fourth part of Principle 65, begin upon termination of powers of the operating President.”
That means Rahmanov is not allowed to run for another term until his presidential powers are in force. Question: When do they terminate actually, these “presidential powers”? Principle 67 of the Tajik Constitution sheds some light:
“Powers of the President terminate after the swearing-in of the new president-elect.”
That means the amendments do not have the force of law until Rahmanov is in power. And he has to step down only after a new president swears into office. Inevitably a new president has to be chosen first, before Rahmanov leaves. He’s served two presidential terms already and has no right to run for president again.
Today Rahmatollah Zaerov stipulated his allegations for me again. Before him Shakerjan Hakimov was telling me the same. However, OSCE’s first interim report on Tajik presidential election (12 October 2006) tells us something else:
“As a result of this referendum (2003), the current president – first elected president in 1994 and re-elected in 1999 – is allowed to run for another two terms in 2006 and 2013.”
I gave a call to Urdur Gunnarsdottir, OSCE/ODIHR’s spokesperson in Warsaw and shared with her Tajik opposition’s concern over the legitimacy of Rahmanov’s candidacy. She had to look for some appropriate words to answer and finally she said: “OSCE is not a court and will not be issuing legal verdicts; if there is a legal problem in different interpretations of the law, the question must be considered by a court.”
While Zaerov and Hakimov say, there is no independent court in Tajikistan and the issue could be put on UN’s desk only. Zaerov intends to do it after the election, if his shaky health condition would allow him.
Now I need an international lawyer who could give me an unbiased expert view to scrutinize this ostensibly appalling breach of law on higher levels.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Something Different, but Familiar
I can feel the tide approaching my way to turn my world upside down again. Don’t worry, that’s what I wanted. When you are sitting on your head and somebody chooses to put you back on your feet - that’s a good feeling. I’m dying to announce my next crazy decision and get rid of my today.
I never could be settled into a routine existence and why now should be an exception?
Tahmine who got used to my abrupt surprise announcements didn’t even bother herself to open her falling eyelids a bit wider at least to pretend that she was slightly astonished. She tried though, but in a second yawned at me and left to bed muttering upon her nose: “Let me think in the morning about your next crazy decision.”
I sat down in front of my lap-top, moved my shoulders under Radio Zamaneh music and thought I was really right: enough of loafing around! It’s time to get back to my own self and do something adventurous again. I will be loaded with a burden of problems, of course. But tell me, who hasn’t them?
Another cheering happening was my nephew Payman’s successful 12.5-hour-operation on his heart. A long-awaited operation followed by 10 days of Payman’s comatose situation in Moscow. The day before yesterday he answered his phone himself with a feeble but joyful voice and made me gasp for some air and sound emotional like a kid.
I can feel the breeze of the tidal wave,
but still waiting to see itself like in the picture.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Mockery of Democery... oops, soz, Democracy
Today I watched Tajik TV, the first TV channel of a country just 20 days away from presidential elections. No, I’m not going to lash them due to the lack of relevant pieces. Actually some election tapes were rolling, but believe me, they were incredibly laughable: a long-haired lady in pink was looking straight into the camera and asking an unimaginable question: “Who doesn’t know Olim Boboev? I believe almost everyone in the country knows this noble man and my vote will go for him!” And I felt hopelessly stupid… A crusty man was assuring his interviewer that the Communist candidate (Ismail Talbakov) was the most suitable person to run the country: “Just because… hmm… just because I like him.” Cool reasoning!
But the main tape (a very long one) was played just before these bites: the glorious incumbent president marching with his huge team of supporters across Qumsangir and shocking people all around him with his scary self-important smile surgeries. An old lady was trembling in front of the camera: “Can you imagine? Our esteemed President Rahmanov asked me about my life! Of course, I’m gonna vote for him!” I hope she’ll live up to the vote on October 6.
That means Tajikistan has learnt how to mock at democracy too just like the US.
But the main tape (a very long one) was played just before these bites: the glorious incumbent president marching with his huge team of supporters across Qumsangir and shocking people all around him with his scary self-important smile surgeries. An old lady was trembling in front of the camera: “Can you imagine? Our esteemed President Rahmanov asked me about my life! Of course, I’m gonna vote for him!” I hope she’ll live up to the vote on October 6.
That means Tajikistan has learnt how to mock at democracy too just like the US.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Even Humans Are Rechargeable
I know what I lack these days and what is casting such a gloomy shade over my blog: I miss my friends. Perhaps everybody has got this kind of desperate need to have a friend beside. And I had them always and everywhere except for here. Here, miraculous change in peoples’ natures astonishes you.
My happiness bubbled over when I stupidly imagined that I could turn them into my friends too, since cannot see any use in hatred. It was too late when I realized they are competing with each other for playing off the rest of the team against me. I wonder if I’m sacrificing my precious years for my childish persistence to keep the ball rolling in our direction with no imagination that one day I might keel over and break my neck.
I’m just sitting there and doing my job, but my body senses enormous pressure of the room bristling with loathe. As soon as I turn my face and look at them to say something I start melting from the heat of their dazzling Julia-Roberts-smiles. Then I childishly feel happy again: cool, all the hatred is out of their hearts now!.. Before I finish my happy thought… boom! Another blow to take that obliges me to give another blow back.
I don’t know why they should see a fearful scarecrow in me. The other day Sajede told me: “They don’t like newcomers to show off”. Perhaps she was trying to give me a hint to curb myself and behave like others and follow their suit. But this one is over my power indeed, since I have never evened myself with others and this is the last place worthwhile to do so.
I know I’m loosing my hair down too much lately, but this is because I want to stamp out all my pathetic feelings here and go back to work with my head held high capable to lavish my smile around to make them bite their nails with greater effort. Before a shiny sincere smile of a friend could do this job. Now I gotta groan to soothe the pain and face them again.
But still, I’m happy to know that this world is a place for some beautiful beings I am craving for.
PS. I promise not to moan again and cheer up this moody blog with more optimism for my friends' sake.
My happiness bubbled over when I stupidly imagined that I could turn them into my friends too, since cannot see any use in hatred. It was too late when I realized they are competing with each other for playing off the rest of the team against me. I wonder if I’m sacrificing my precious years for my childish persistence to keep the ball rolling in our direction with no imagination that one day I might keel over and break my neck.
I’m just sitting there and doing my job, but my body senses enormous pressure of the room bristling with loathe. As soon as I turn my face and look at them to say something I start melting from the heat of their dazzling Julia-Roberts-smiles. Then I childishly feel happy again: cool, all the hatred is out of their hearts now!.. Before I finish my happy thought… boom! Another blow to take that obliges me to give another blow back.
I don’t know why they should see a fearful scarecrow in me. The other day Sajede told me: “They don’t like newcomers to show off”. Perhaps she was trying to give me a hint to curb myself and behave like others and follow their suit. But this one is over my power indeed, since I have never evened myself with others and this is the last place worthwhile to do so.
I know I’m loosing my hair down too much lately, but this is because I want to stamp out all my pathetic feelings here and go back to work with my head held high capable to lavish my smile around to make them bite their nails with greater effort. Before a shiny sincere smile of a friend could do this job. Now I gotta groan to soothe the pain and face them again.
But still, I’m happy to know that this world is a place for some beautiful beings I am craving for.
PS. I promise not to moan again and cheer up this moody blog with more optimism for my friends' sake.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Tongue-rubbing My Palate
I caught myself again
Tongue-rubbing my palate
Digesting my entire being in its disgusting taste
Taste of a fallen wing
That used to clap and swing
The taste that I detest
A couple of hopeful eyes’ sour mucilage
Cutting my bitter tongue…
Such a disgusting taste.
The image of mirage
Stretching from east to west
So colourful and long
The one I used to long for, but never did belong
Looks pale and shady now
Disparaging my vow.
02:29 am
16 Oct 06
Prague
Tongue-rubbing my palate
Digesting my entire being in its disgusting taste
Taste of a fallen wing
That used to clap and swing
The taste that I detest
A couple of hopeful eyes’ sour mucilage
Cutting my bitter tongue…
Such a disgusting taste.
The image of mirage
Stretching from east to west
So colourful and long
The one I used to long for, but never did belong
Looks pale and shady now
Disparaging my vow.
02:29 am
16 Oct 06
Prague
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Switch
خدايا، روز شد آخر
سياهی رفت و آبی شد
پری پيروز شد آخر
و ديو غصه خوابی شد
Худоё, руз шуд охир
Сиёхй рафту обй шуд
Парй пируз шуд охир
Ва деви гусса хобй шуд
سياهی رفت و آبی شد
پری پيروز شد آخر
و ديو غصه خوابی شد
Худоё, руз шуд охир
Сиёхй рафту обй шуд
Парй пируз шуд охир
Ва деви гусса хобй шуд
Thursday, September 21, 2006
To Whom It May Concern
Эй сачдагарони зулму ичхоф,
Ночида гуле зи боги инсоф.
Як рузу ду рузи умри фонй
Арзад, ки диле ба гам нишонй?
Эй нолаи ту зи бахр афзун
В-эй синаи дахр аз ту пурхун.
Эй пайрави кеши пунду дуллор,
Бегона зи таквожаи “бисёр”.
Чашмат зи талаб бурун часта,
Калбат ба тамаъ фузун часта.
Рагхои шумо – касидаи пул,
Анбони ба лабрасидаи пул.
Дар чашми шумо – аломати сабз,
Пойиз гирифта комати сабз.
Пойизи хароси бенавой
Афганда туро ба беливой.
Аз миллату ормони пираш
Аз Рустаму Орашу зи тираш
Шаггодсифат канор рафтй,
То киблагахи дулор рафтй.
“Акнун ба тамаъ пушт дутойи,
Хамсони кадом зани саройи”, (илхом аз Носири Хусрав)
Дар сояи хочагони гаддор,
Хай мешумарй баргаи дуллор.
Аз ному забони кавм мункир,
Аз суду зиёни кавм мункир.
Мухре ба лабу ба даст теша,
Уфтода ба чони кавму реша.
Дардо, ки канори ту нишастам,
Паймони мушорикат бибастам.
Гофил зи низории дарунат,
Бегона зи хуйу чанду чунат.
Гуфтам, ба ту хадяе биёрам,
Пайгоми хакикате супорам.
Аз ростиам басе рамидй,
Аз оби начот н-ошамидй.
Дарбанди хакорати махаллй,
Курбонии дарди бетасаллй.
Бечора касе, ки кард бовар,
Зухди сухани туро саросар.
Аз мардуми ринду кавми озод,
Аз рохи накуву хоки обод.
Аз рохи ба орзу расидан,
Аз шеваи болу пар кашидан.
Аз “Киссаи бедорй”-и миллат,
Аз кавми рахо зи чохи зиллат.
Пайгоми умеди як гирифтор,
Дар банди танида тори дуллор.
Фарёди миёнтихиву бечон,
Дини тихй аз лаззати имон.
“Озодй кудому зиндагй чист?
Аз пул бисаро, ки зиндагонист!..”
Аз рашки фузун – заъфаронй,
Аз шиддати хун – аргувонй.
Аз илми баён – бенасибй,
Аз ёру рафик – бехабибй.
Бо чаъли табассуми хакорат,
Такрими хасу хори садорат…
Аз зикри сифоти беназират,
Тафсири даруни безамират,
Шармобаи хомаам таровид,
Сурхй ба рухи китоб тобид.
Аммо зи хичолатат хабар нест,
Аз гуфтани ман ба ту самар нест.
Бо ту нафасам харом бодо,
Умрам кафаси мудом бодо.
Ночида гуле зи боги инсоф.
Як рузу ду рузи умри фонй
Арзад, ки диле ба гам нишонй?
Эй нолаи ту зи бахр афзун
В-эй синаи дахр аз ту пурхун.
Эй пайрави кеши пунду дуллор,
Бегона зи таквожаи “бисёр”.
Чашмат зи талаб бурун часта,
Калбат ба тамаъ фузун часта.
Рагхои шумо – касидаи пул,
Анбони ба лабрасидаи пул.
Дар чашми шумо – аломати сабз,
Пойиз гирифта комати сабз.
Пойизи хароси бенавой
Афганда туро ба беливой.
Аз миллату ормони пираш
Аз Рустаму Орашу зи тираш
Шаггодсифат канор рафтй,
То киблагахи дулор рафтй.
“Акнун ба тамаъ пушт дутойи,
Хамсони кадом зани саройи”, (илхом аз Носири Хусрав)
Дар сояи хочагони гаддор,
Хай мешумарй баргаи дуллор.
Аз ному забони кавм мункир,
Аз суду зиёни кавм мункир.
Мухре ба лабу ба даст теша,
Уфтода ба чони кавму реша.
Дардо, ки канори ту нишастам,
Паймони мушорикат бибастам.
Гофил зи низории дарунат,
Бегона зи хуйу чанду чунат.
Гуфтам, ба ту хадяе биёрам,
Пайгоми хакикате супорам.
Аз ростиам басе рамидй,
Аз оби начот н-ошамидй.
Дарбанди хакорати махаллй,
Курбонии дарди бетасаллй.
Бечора касе, ки кард бовар,
Зухди сухани туро саросар.
Аз мардуми ринду кавми озод,
Аз рохи накуву хоки обод.
Аз рохи ба орзу расидан,
Аз шеваи болу пар кашидан.
Аз “Киссаи бедорй”-и миллат,
Аз кавми рахо зи чохи зиллат.
Пайгоми умеди як гирифтор,
Дар банди танида тори дуллор.
Фарёди миёнтихиву бечон,
Дини тихй аз лаззати имон.
“Озодй кудому зиндагй чист?
Аз пул бисаро, ки зиндагонист!..”
Аз рашки фузун – заъфаронй,
Аз шиддати хун – аргувонй.
Аз илми баён – бенасибй,
Аз ёру рафик – бехабибй.
Бо чаъли табассуми хакорат,
Такрими хасу хори садорат…
Аз зикри сифоти беназират,
Тафсири даруни безамират,
Шармобаи хомаам таровид,
Сурхй ба рухи китоб тобид.
Аммо зи хичолатат хабар нест,
Аз гуфтани ман ба ту самар нест.
Бо ту нафасам харом бодо,
Умрам кафаси мудом бодо.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Eternal Feeling Coming Back
Yes, it is a fun to live within a museum enjoying its beauty and historic traces. You can see a lot and love it so much that you’d think you don’t want to leave it anymore. But, of course, they are just your feelings and nothing more. Just after a while you feel exhausted and step out of the premises maybe to come back again, but not soon. That’s the way I feel about Prague right now. Furthermore, I feel like a horse dragging a carriage along with a lot of lazy donkeys and we have begun biting each other already. God save us!
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