Iqbal Latif: "Throwing a gauntlet like what Bush did makes it harder but it takes a very big man to do it. History has put this burden on a Texan who looked quite ordinary -- and for the left even stupid -- but he has taken this burden better than many a Sagittarius!"

  

 

It is interesting to see how this apparently simple point is so easily misunderstood. I don't claim compatibility or incompatibility of Islam with anything. I simply think religion must find its proper place in the society as a system of beliefs that is practiced freely by individuals.

What I have heard from Ms. Ebadi on the contrary is to try to reconcile everything with Islamic theology. An example was given by her as to how Ramadan fasting may be modified to address the needs of the individuals who live in the North Pole. I think it is absurd to think you can generalize from this to conclude that Iran's in-depth problems may be solved in this manner.

An enlightened Iranian cleric whose name I do not remember once wrote that by limiting democracy to Islam we may think we have discovered a new form of democracy but in the process we have really devised a new form of dictatorship. I believe that Ms. Ebadi should set an example of a Muslim with firm beliefs in human rights and democracy. Unfortunately to my disappointment, she has apparently chosen to become the harbinger of an unknown Islamic democracy.

  

 

There are a few subjects that I tend to stay away from. One is the Israeli and Palestinian conflict but Pedram Moallemian's The Apartheid Wall made me chill. The Apartheid Wall is exactly what the Danish government has built in Denmark. A wall of hatred, which has transferred Denmark to a Concentration Camp for the minorities (Jews, Muslims, blacks, etc!) I don't expect Denmark suddenly turn into a Neve Shalom but... a democratic society should treat humans as equals and... Denmark should put an end to the psychological and social rape of the minorities.

Read my Open Criticism on the Iranian Times.

  

 

On June 30, 2003 I wrote: Mr. Amir Entezam (who has been in the Islamic Republic of Iran's jail for the past 25 years -in my opinion) is an unknown Mandela. Tomorrow Mr. Entezam (and Professor Aghajari) will receive Jan Karski Award at The American Center of Polish Culture, Washington, D.C., USA.

  

 

just got this card from P and my little girl.

Maani (mama),
I want to let you know how much Baba and I are happy for having you in our lives. I love you so much even the first time you brushed my teeth. And between you and me, Baba said to me he loves you even when he is washing the dishes.

  

 

Happy Birthday Sheema

  

 

At the supermarket

My baby girl (20 mounths young): Mamaaaaa
Baby girl: Mamaaaaaa
Baby girl: Mamaaaaaa
Sheema: You don't have to sing it so loud, love. I am standing right here.
Baby girl singing on top of her lungs: Mamaaaaa
Baby girl: Mamaaaaaa
Sheema singing the rest from Bohemian Rhapsody: Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry... If I'm not back again this time tomorrow.
Baby girl: Carry... carry... Mamaaaaaa (Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters.)
Baby girl: Mamaaaa
Sheema: Bayad kharidam bekonim (We have to do some shopping too!)
Baby girl: Mamaaaa
P: Which cheese did we buy her last week?
P: Was it this one or that one?
P: I buy two of these.
P: Is this ok?
P: Why don't you answer me?
Baby girl: Mamaaaa... oohooooo... Cary... Cary... Mamaaaa...
Sheema's thoughts: Now I know why dad (my father) can hear only when he wants to!

  

 

Well-Come to New England: her smile kills!
The university I study at is some 30 minutes away from where I live. In order to get there I drive in one of the most dangerous roads in the U.S. (based on my personal experience I dare to say it is nothing compared to the roads in Iran, Pakistan and India but still a scary road to drive in.) It is one of those roads that every year on an average some fifty people lose either their lives or one/some part/s of their body and it is only natural to not want to go through this near death experience. Today on my way back I escaped a fatal accident, which makes me wonder why after more than thirty years of planning for a highway this road is still in its satanic 666 zone.

  

 

Blank

From beneath the skin
to the brain,
my blood cells are fighting
to breathe me through
the tortured shadows of memory.

Sorry, I am mother, sorry,
for losing you if you give up on the life
that has been the one constant in mine.
Look at my fingers
that are covered in blood

and bitten by the snails that are nervously
swimming inside of my breasts.

I cover my broken skin
from the dry drafts,
and from the tears that peel my cut heart
and from beneath the brain cells
I hear the enjoined memories
(that I wish I never had)
and the rocks that are crying
for the outbreak of the White Divs.1

Sorry, I am mother, sorry,
for the childhood
that was stolen from me
by the displacements and the wars,
by the governments and their inhumane crimes.

Zero blood...sacred blood...blood
from beneath my nails...hair
that is rended in anguish...breasts
that are driven from...
one end to another
...the body that will be buried beneath...

Shut these thoughts, Sheema, shut...
shhhhhhhh...
Khaamush! 2

1 Demons; from the The Book of Kings by the Persian poet Ferdowsi.
2 Persian for "Be quiet"

  

 

I go to the porch and extend my fingers
Over the taut skin of night.
The lamps that link are dark, O so dark.
No one will introduce me to the sunlight
Or escort me
To the sparrows' gathering...

- Forough Farrokhzad

  

 

Earlier today my sister-in-law called and said lets stay hopeful for Maman's sake.

I sit here with my 0000 thoughts ...and blood starts drifting from one end of the keyboards to another. Suddenly this 2000 something house is closing on me. Suddenly I can see the walls are chewing my bones. Suddenly all I want is to lose my memory and never know losing a loved one. I wish I did not feel pain, did not see suffering and have never had learned counting... the days that are left.

  

 

Lost in fantasia? No not really...
1978: A pregnant woman is taken to the delivery room to give birth. The mother keeps pushing and pushing. She is out of breath and can't wait for the baby to be delivered. Moments later Ahmad Batebi is born not knowing at the young age of 21 his face will appear on The Economist... changing his life forever... He doesn't know his youth will pass him by... within the cold prisons of the oppressive regime or... he would have asked the doctors not to cut the umbilical cord... and... he would have stayed in the warm and protective womb of his mother...

He is my Ahmad Batebi and yours. He is my father, brother, son, husband, lover, teacher, neighbor, classmate. He is your moral judgment that does not know borders...
Ahmad Batebi's execution is commuted to 15 years imprisonment... but
2003: It is five days since he was last heard from. Related news can be found on freeiran.

  

 

...check out this video...so sweet so beautiful nobody knows how she feels...

... and Bahman Kalbasi's article, Omid Habibi Nia and Dr.Noury's sites, Jonathan Edelstein's blog and Mahshid's latest posts.

  

 

Maman is still in the hospital. We (P, Sheema and the baby girl) are leaving for Denmark in a few weeks. I have applied as a visiting student to a Danish university for the spring semester. P will return to the U.S. while the girl and I will stay behind for the spring.

Today on the phone
Sheema: Maman I look forward to seeing you.
Maman: Yes I do too... but make sure you lose weight before coming to Denmark.

  

 

Like every night -before the little girl goes to bed- her song... Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody was playing on the computer and... I was reading the news/a few blogs... when my must-read blog The Eyeranian suddenly became the center of her attention ...and my little girl... started... calling for the Barney. Pedram Moallemian's musical day almost became my musical nightmare... before... I found the perfect Barney site with plenty of Barney music for the young lady.

  

 

...fight it Maman...fight it...for I will be lost for the longest time without hearing your voice on the other side of the phone...
...I look in the mirror and can't find me...

  

 

Maman...today is a foggy day...so foggy... that I can't see my heart's pieces hanging from my fingers. My thoughts are too loud to bear grief...I want to make a deal with the gods...

...P and I will call your doctor tomorrow...he wasn't there today...

  

 

Maman...ever since I opened my eyes into yours...my love for you...has evenly spread in my body...like...when spirits grow into humans and become...mothers and daughters...

  

 

Unfinished

It is not a matter of if but when
we no longer are a mother and a child
(you the mother and I the child)

...when our time is over
and darkness falls...

and you -may be- the first to cross
the threshold of winter's bones, and then I
step into the unknown world
where we will never again
be a mother and a child
(you the mother and I the child)
...

  

 

...both the girl and I have a cold.