در این بین هم به خبرها سرک می کشی و در یکی از عکس ها می بینی که یه دختر که به زور سه سالش میشه در سرزمین ثروتمند مادری اش، همه چی رو در زلزله از دست داده و به خاک سیاه نشسته، حالت رو بد نمی کنه؟ ناتوانی ات برای انجام دادن کوچکترین کار برای اون دختر معصوم که میتونست به جای دختر خودت که با شکم سیر و لباس خواب صورتی مخملی اش توی رختخواب آبی اش، در خواب ناز فرو رفته، حالت رو بدتر نمی کنه؟ خیلی خیلی حالم بده.

برگرفته از وبلاگ مامان غزل

  

 

Cham Cham Ghungaroo Bole

My dad's primary care physician is from Pakistan. He had referred my dad to his own American cardiologist doctor/friend. The American doctor kept speaking about Pakistan. I had flashbacks of my first experience and observation of the events when leaving my country of birth, Iran for Pakistan. Between translating and explaining to and from my dad to the cardiologist... I remembered... Loads of passengers sat on every inch of the train. The smell of coconut (hair) oil and Hashish was air foiling my nostrils. I was scrambled between people dressed in shalwar kameez, the traditional south Asian tunic-pants made of bright colors, or mirror work with embroidery and tassels. With ornaments for every visible part of their body, gems for the head and nose rings to bangles and gold bands on their arms and anklets the train looked like a moving gala. The smiling prostitutes, dancing khosras with toe rings and ghungaroo jingle bells fastened to their ankles, shaved scalp children running on top of the luggage racks, the hard bench seats, hunger, thirst, exhaustion and the uncertainty of my future made me want to plunge myself. The temperature was rising and the train caught speed to run in accordance to maintain high standard of punctuality. This however was adding to the physical pressure. At every station... I could see a small army of helpers walking around. Pakistani men and boys would run to the passengers' windows carring cold or hot drinks, samosas, pakoras, onion bhajis kebabs and cakes. Before I faint from hunger and thirst a woman sitting on the opposite bench in a steel mug offered me sweet and flavored nutmeg milk. As I drank and dropped the mug from my face, she offered me a piece of chapati. I felt a sudden ripple of anguish. Layers of pain were building inside me. The series of events had drowned my energy and lack of concentration made me a latent candidate for chaos...

... your father has to take... additional medication... He is a high risk for heart attack. I want him back in two weeks...

  

 

ایران من!

نمی خواهم دیروز باشد. می خواهم همیشه فردا بماند. فردا که نمی دانم چه، چه می شود.. که نفس می آید و یا می رود. می خواهم همیشه، همیشه بماند گرچه خاطره ها محو می شوند، لحظه ها که شاید از یاد بروند... می خواهم فردا باشد و من که... ندانم فردا چه می شود، آیا نفس بیاید یا برود...

چند زمان از خاک تنم با روح جنگلت گذشته است؟ از تکه سنگی و درختان روی تپه و جوانه جوانه های ساقه های سبز و سفید و سرخ؟ چند موج به روی هم شناورند؟ چند رقص نور در لابه لای انگشتانمان سایه افکن؟

قل می خوریم و غلت می زنیم و از هر چه گذشته است دور می شویم... دستانم را به روی چهره ام می گذارم و می بویم. بوی تو... تمام تنم را در بر می گیرد. این هم آغوشی عطر تو است با لبانم و نفست که دهانم را بارور می کند!

  

 

Charles A. Kupchan and Ray Takeyh: Easing sanctions, releasing Iranian assets frozen since the revolution and ultimately establishing diplomatic relations should also be on the table. The prospect of such rewards will do much more to empower Iranian moderates than a tightened economic embargo or attacks on nuclear facilities.

my friend's comment on this post:... and while we are there why don't we make Ahamdinejad the KING!!!

and Roger (another friend)comments : Not king. Just send him to Disney World. It would make a great commercial:

"Ahamdinejad where are you doing?"

"I'm going to Disney to heap scorn on the Great Satan!"

  

 

ما به کمک هشتاد و پنج میلیونی آمریکا نه می گوییم ( و این نه گفتن بر مبنای چه منطقی هست؟)

روزنگار عزیزم،


خیلی صادقانه دوستت دارم. حالا زنبور خوشگلم... با رقص کامپیوتری از توی لونه اش می پره... میره توی کندوی عسل اونوری... خیلی دوستت دارم... تو برنده جایزه شدی... و روزنگار عزیزم من کیک سیب هم خیلی دوست دارم.

اینها کلمه های دیروز دختر کوچولو بود که روی پاهام نشسته بود و روی دکمه های کی-بورد می زد و به خیال خودش روزنگارش رو می نوشت. چند دقیقه بعدش که ای-میلهام رو چک می کردم... چشمم به ای-میل یک خانوم ایرانی افتاد که در حال گرفتن دکتراش در یکی از دانشگاههای رده بالای امریکاست. از خود اون خانم خوشم میاد و از خوندن نوشته هاش هم لذت می برم. فردیتش نیست بلکه مضمون نامه است که به نظرم فریبکارانه اومد. برام عجیبه که آدمهایی که به آمریکا فشار میارن که با رژیم جنایتکار ایران مغازله رو شروع کنه یا آدمهایی که دنبال پرونده سازی از جنایات رژیم ایران هستند ای-میل می فرستند و می گویند: لازم می بییند در پاسخ به اعلامیه اخیر دولت آمریکا مبنی بر اختصاص هشتاد و پنج میلیون دلار به گروههای مخالف رژیم موضع گیری شفاف داشته باشند.

روزنگار عزیزم، چشمم که به عروسک دختر کوچولو گوشه اتاق می افته (در حالیکه خودش مهد کودکه و منم مشغول تایپ این نوشته،) یاد حرفهای دیشبش می افتم که می گفت کیک سیب خیلی دوست داره... شاید امشب با هم کیک سیب درست کنیم. می دونم! می دونم! هنوز تصمیم نگرفتم که کیک بپزم یا نه! اما چیزهایی که می دونم رو که می دونم! تصمیمم رو راجع به امضای این پتیشن هم می دونم. حماقت می دونم که بخوام این پتیشن رو امضا کنم. به واقع می دونم که نمی تونم با دست پیش بکشم و با پا پس بزنم. با تمام وجودم می دونم و باور دارم که رژیمی که آدمکش هست دولتی نیست که بشه باهش وارد صحبت شد.

روزنگار عزیزم، من جنگ نمی خوام! خواهش می کنم خدا جون، پروردگارا، یهوا، مسیح موعود، الله، مو قرمز و یا مادر افریقایی که اون بالا یا این پایین هستی... خواهش می کنم کمکم کن که بتونم غذاهای سالم و کم چربی بپزم و ضمنا رستوران محلی (اقلیتی) ایران از شعله آتش جان سالم به در ببره! و همزمان که مشغول اینکاری... لطفا مهمانان متشخص یا قابل فهمتر بگم زندانیان سیاسی رو که در زندانهای نه خیلی آب و رنگ دار رژیم خونخوار ایران اسیرند رو هم یک نیم نگاهی به عدالت بنداز.

خوب حالا شما هم مهمون من باشین و این منیو رستوران رو یک نگاهی بندازین بلکه خوشتون بیاد! ما مشروبات غیر الکلی سرو می کنیم، کاسه سر آدم، اعضای بدن زنان اعدام شده، وحشیگری و ضربت ملی و خوراک -شیمیایی- آلوده- دریایی خزر. آهان! لطفا این پتیشن رو امضاکنین تا دفعه دیگه سر گارسونمون این آقا بشه!

مرسی برای امضاهاتون و تلاشتون برای امنیت و تامین جانی و ملی هر ایرانی و... انجام وظایف شهروندیتون... ضمنا حالا که سرتون گرمه که به زیارت قعر تاریخ بریم... ما اسمتون رو برای قدردانی در لیست عروسکهای باربی تازه به بازار اومده اضافه می کنیم ... این عروسکهای تماما مخصوص... بالهاشون رو به هوس شنیدن یک قصه (یا شاید هم یک دم/دنبالچه!) معاوضه کرده اند!

.

  

 

We Say No to US Aid (... and the logic behind saying no is... what exactly?)

Dear diary,

I love you so much thank you honestly. It's called the buggy computer dance and I love you so much and ... you win the surprise... dear diary I love Apple pie.

Those were my daughter's words from yesterday... sitting on my lap and pretending to write on the computer. A few minutes later when I checked my e-mails... I found one from an intelligent Iranian woman who is perusing her PhD at one of the top U.S. universities. She, I like and enjoy reading her articles. It is not she... but the content of the e-mail I received that to me is dishonest. It is strange to me that people who support and push for a love affair between the U.S. and the murderer regime of Iran or are collecting evidence to persecute the regime are sending out e-mails saying they feel compelled to take a clear position in response to the recent announcement by the US Administration to allocate $85 million in aid to groups opposed to the Islamic regime in Iran. Dear diary, I look at my daughter's doll on the floor and remember my daughter's words from yesterday. She loves apple pie! Maybe I should bake an apple pie with her tonight. I know! I know! I have not decided to bake it yet but I know what I know and I know of my decision about this new petition. I find it idiotic to sign this petition! I know for a fact that I can't pull with my hands and push with my feet (a Persian phrase.) I know for a fact that a regime that kills and murders its own people is not a government to deal with. Oh! By the way dear diary, I don't like war! Please God, Yahweh, Jesus, Lord, Allah, Khoda, or whatever red hair or African mother you are up there or down here... please help me cook low carb dishes, and Iran's ethnic restaurant to survive the fire, and while you are at it... please save countless other political celebrities who dine at the not so fine prisons of the oppressive regime in Iran.

Be my guest and please view our Iranin delicious menu items. We serve alcohol free beer, human scalps; executed-women-body parts, national domestic violence, and CCW (the Caspian Chemical Waste) seafood. Oh! Please do sign this petition if you want this guy to be our next head of staff!


Thank you for your participation and upholding the safety, welfare of every Iranian and fulfilling your civic duty. By the way while you insist on your pilgrimage back through time... we will include your name in the list of our latest barbie doll designs. Those dolls have specifically given up their wings for a tale !(hum! or maybe a tail!)

  

 

Count Down blogs: "things related to Iran are treated in such a degree of sloppiness and vagueness even by people like Professor Francis Fukuyama. Examples: -The elections in Iran are bundled together with elections elsewhere in the Middle East to prove the point that Islamism is on the rise, and push for elections isn't really working. -Iran is a semi-democracy (whatever the term means) and democratic but not liberal (amusingly enough, Iran is the only example of an illeberal democracy in Prof. Fukuyama's famous book).

It is both sad and funny that Iran is held to standards much lower than even Robert Mugabe's Zimbabwe when assessing the "democratic degree" of its elections. Few cases of fraud and intimidation are enough for the West to dismiss the election results in Belarus but in Iran election of Ahmadinejad becomes a hotly debated topic and evidence as to how "democratic" means can produce "illiberal" results. Official election figures are thrown around as valid data points as if the freeness and the fairness of the election were rubber-stamped by no less than Jimmy Carter himself."

  

 

The little girl was awarded the green belt in Taekwondo today. In celebration of her great achievement... I took her to starbucks for a chocolate milk drink and a chocolate cupcake.

Little-my-girl, I appreciate your patience and hard work. I know how much you don't want to attend these self-defense classes but I hope you will appreciate it when you get older, wiser and more mature. I know I have to dress you in princess clothes and tiara so that you will agree to come to your Taekwondo classes... but it doesn't matter how silly we may look to others. I love you my girl so much that today while you licked melted chocolate off your fingers... I wanted to hold you tight in my arms and kiss you Big. My girl... you are the cutest and the most wonderful little girl... I have come to know and I hope I will be able to help you and guide you... so that you are strong enough to fly and journey through your life when it's time for you. I hope my dreams and wishes for us will come true.

I love you.

  

 

نیک آهنگ به مطلبی از داریوش سجادی لینک گذاشته بود که وقتی خوندم از شهامت (خوانده شود وقاحت ) طرف موندم! البته مثل این آقای سجادی درآمریکا کم نیستند کسانی که دلخسته رژیم ایرانند و یا خواستار رفورم درون رژیمی! به رژیم ایران رای می دهند و نماینده ریاست جمهوری می شوند و بعد هم با اسم ورسمهای کارشناسی در فلان موسسه تحقیقاتی و دانشگاه کار می کنند و یا برای تلوزیونها نقش بلندگوی همه-ایرانی را بازی می کنند... در این مملکت زندگی می کنند و از رفاه و آزادیهای اینجا استفاده می کنند و بعد هم زبونشون رو تا حلق بیرون میارن! این خلق همیشه خود شیفته که از حلق تا حلق به هیچ جنایت رژیم اعتراضی نمی کنند چه طوری از فلان آیت الله دعوت می کنند که به لس آنجلس بیاید جای بحث و حدیث دارد. چرا استیت دیپارتمنت از این افراد لیستی ندارد؟ چرا و چه طوری به این افراد ویزا داده می شود؟ کارهای پر درآمد و یا بورسهای تحصیلی داده می شود در حالیکه افراد دیگر سالها باید به انتظار ویزای آمریکا باشند و یا با وجود تحصیلات و مدارک عالی کار دانشگاهی مورد دلخواهشان را به دست نمی آورند. چه طور هست که فلان مرد پاکستانی بعد از یازده سپتامبر (به علت نداشتن ویزای کار) بدون مدرکی که حمل بر تروریست بودنش باشد به زندان می افتد... سکته می کند ومی میرد ولی فلان دکتر ایرانی که رسما اعلام می کند می خواهد آمریکا با رژیم آدمخوار ایران ارتباط داشته باشد اجازه تدریس در مدارس و به بچه من را باید داشته باشد!

  

 

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I don't get it. How come all these sympathizers of the Iranian regime have the permission to live in the U.S., and vote for the Iranian regime or some of them announce their presidency candidacy for the regime, and later become CNN analyst or Middle East consultant and work for number of prestigious organizations while others get the black stamp in their passport! You say no? I myself know several people who were rejected in the American embassies around the world for reasons as simple as perusing education in the U.S. universities! I know an Iranian medical doctor who was first given the U.S. visa and a few minutes later while waiting in the hallway of the embassy with president Clinton's picture hanging opposite from his seat... was recalled in to get a rejection stamp! His only chance was getting a new Iranian passport within the next few days and applying for a U.S. turist visa in another town. And I am not even mentioning how I was treated at the American embassy in Copenhagen while holding my travel document in 2000 (a year later I got my Danish passport and I didn't need visa to the U.S.,)

Instead of going after innocent people and terrorizing their lives what about the rotten cheese at the corner shop!

  

 

خانواده منقبض

دختر کوچولو دو تا تولد دعوت بود. اولی که ساعت سه و نیم شروع می شد.. تولد دوقولوهای ایتالیایی باربارا و شوهرش بودند که دو ساله می شدند و هشتاد تا مهمون دعوت کرده بودند. هرکسی هم باید به اندازه پنج نفر غذا یا خوراکی (چیپس/پنیر/شیرینی/کیک و از این قبیل اغذیه های شکم پرکن) ویک شیشه نوشیدنی غیرالکلی( سالن محل تولد اجازه مشروبات الکلی نداشت،) با خودش می برد. و تولد دومی هم که (با ماشین) ده دقیقه فاصله داشت یکی از همکلاسیهای مهدکودکش بود که پیتزا و کیک و از این قبیل مخلفات سرو می کردند و بعد نیم ساعت (یا یک ساعت) سالن تحویل داده می شد و بچه ها به منطقه بازی می رفتند. همه بچه ها یکی یک تیکه کاغذ به دستشون وصل شده بود با اسمشون و کلی هم سکه برای هر وسیله بازی. شب هم منزل دکتر ایرانی و همسرش ( فامیل دور ساقی قهرمان) دعوت بودیم برای عید دیدنی. من و پ هم که پدر و مادر نمونه... برای اینکه به دختر کوچولو خوش بگذره به همه گفته بودیم... آره! ما می آییم! و در نتیجه با سرعت نور از یک تولد به تولد بعدی و بعد هم به مهمونی ایرانی رفتیم. در تمام این مدت هم با لباسهای پلو خوری! وقتی مهمونیهای رفقای اروپایی می ریم تنها خانواده منقبض ما هستیم که همیشه اتو کشیده ایم. پارسال تابستون که واقعا مسخره ترین حالت ممکن یک مهمونی رفتیم! پ با کت و شلوار و کراوات و بقیه با شلوارک... و من هم بلوز آستین بلند و دامن و کفش پاشنه بلند (آخه یکی نیست بگه تو خودت رو به زور راه می بری کفش پاشنه بلندت دیگه چیه!) و یک خروار آرایش (که هیچوقت تو عمرم اونقدر آرایش نکرده بودم/ شبیه عروسهای هندی شده بودم!!) و زیر آفتاب عرق ریزون و هن و هن کنان صد کیلو چربی و گوشتم رو اینور و اونور می کشیدم. ولی خوب خوبی این دفعه این بود که شب مهمونی ایرانی دعوت داشتیم. دختر کوچولو هم که توی ماشین خوابش برده بود اولش اشک و آه و ناله و به زور و بدبختی از ماشین بیایم بیرون ... بعد هم پ به بچه های مردم یک سری توپ و تشر زد که چرا توپ رو هی از طبقه بالا می اندازین پایین... و... بعله... دختر من چهارساله اش هست و از اون بالای نرده می افته پایین! دختر ما هم که هیجانزده تو عمرش این همه بچه ایرانی ندیده بود و می خواست توی تمام فعالیتهاشون شرکت کنه! متاسفانه بچه ها هیچکدوم فارسی حرف نمی زدند و البته این انتخاب پدر و مادراشون بوده. یک خانومی که شوهرش ایرانی بود می گفت بچه اش وقتی زبون باز کرده انگلیسی حرف می زده. من هم خیلی دوست دارم و لذت می برم وقتی دختر کوچولو برخلاف من با لهجه فارسی... انگلیسی حرف نمی زنه اما همونقدر لذت می برم که وقتی فارسی حرف می زنه... و بهش گفتم که چقدر افتخار می کنم. شاید این به نوعی آخرین تلاش منه برای اون عشقی که به زبون فارسی دارم... شاید هم سعی می کنم با نزدیکترین زن زندگیم بتونم وقتی بزرگتر می شه... اون حباب جادویی رو نقش پردازی کنیم... اون راز و رمزها رو به فارسی حرف بزنیم... اون زبون مادر و دختر... که نزدیک هم بشینیم و به فارسی جیک و پیک کنیم...

  

 

Shave Your Moustache Mother Iran!

Only you know how difficult it is to open the door to an unknown expression. Only you know how far from home we can go without the torch. Only you know... silently walking down the path and trying to remember... needs skill and presence of mind. Only you know what is the smell of eucalyptus in the island of mind. When you feel like a toddler in the new world, when time after time you can only draw one picture on a sheet of paper... back and forth. Only you know every time you make the supreme effort to exist... the fever in the heart jumps out of your skin. Only you know regardless of the nonsense you hear or you read... your voice echoes beyond and through their frozen frame of mind.

Let me clean these appliances in the kitchen, and do the laundry, feed the children, and scream and sob before cutting through my womanparts and my almost rebellious determination and into the darkness.

Time after time... only I know how difficult it is to be one voice in an establishment of long-while-brains and trying to work among scattering cats, hippie Hendrix, trash cans, nose jobs, dream crashers, Ph.D and pounds in variations of lies and deception.

I am refusing to donate!

  

 

A Woman's Right to Shoes

The little girl's love affair with shoes and clothes... is exhausting our pockets (P's and mine.) She reminds me of Carrie Bradshaw! Soon I may have to add a donate button in my blog!

دختر کوچولو... کشته ما رو... بس که قر و فر داره. از وقتی که کوچیکتر بود همیشه سر صبح باید لباس مهمونی بپوشه و کفش پاش کنه... رنگ و روی کفشهاش که می ره باید (من و باباش) کفش و کلاه کنیم و بریم براش یک جفت کفش نو و براق ( که موقع راه رفتن صدای خاصی داره ) بخریم. البته این به همینجا ختم نمی شه... اینقدر می چرخیم تا با جیب سوراخ برمی گردیم خونه... و تازه این همه ادا و اطوار که خرج برمی داره... کلی هم زمان می بره. هرچی من... مادر این بچه... ساده... بی آرایش و بی جواهر هستم و سال تا سال برای خودم خرید نمی رم ( شاید مسیله برگرده به اصل و نسب اصفهانیم) این دختره یک فمینین تمام عیار شده! اینقدر کفش دوست داره که من رو یاد کری برادشو ( به بازیگری سارا جسیکا پارکر) می اندازه. خلاصه به زودی مجبورم یک دکمه دونیت (یا همون کاسه برنجی براق با پنجه حضرت فاطمه) توی این وبلاگ بگذارم!
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الهام جان... یادمه یازده دوازده ساله که بودیم و مامان و بابات از یکی از سفرهاشون به آمریکا که برگشته بودند... برات کفش و لباس آورده بودند و لباسهات وکفشهات رو (چون عکس و مارک خارجی روشون بود) توی گمرگ ایران... مامورها قیچی کرده بودند... چقدر حالت گرفته بود خواهر کوچولوی نازنینم...

  

 

برای خوندن پاراگراف اول که خیلی خوب اینجا نوشته و توضیح داده شده ...

  

 

Anwar Ibrahim: "In a way, Washington's strategy may be viewed as expiation for past sins, when the U.S. was a stumbling block to democracy in the Middle East. Iran was a democracy in 1953 when the CIA engineered the coup that transformed it into an absolute monarchy. THE BEST ANSWERS to the question of whether America should reassess its strategy lie in Indonesia and Turkey, refreshing examples of Muslim democratic self-assertion ( I am not sure about Turkey as the best example!!@!, Kurds are not free at all to exercise their culture, their denial of Armenian Genocide is still a big issue)To be successful in its efforts to spread freedom, the U.S. must remember that constitutional democracy cannot take root in a society, whether secular or Islamic, without the firm commitment of the politically empowered to protect the fundamental rights to liberty, equality and freedom of all."

  

 

یکی از خواننده هام که مثل من آمریکا زندگی می کنه ازم چندین و چند... سوال کرده...

واقعیتش اینه... که من شیما کلباسی تا قبل از اینکه بیام آمریکا، این کشور برام مظهر امپریالیسم بود. حتی حاضر نبودم که توریستی پول خرج کنم و بیام این کشور رو ببینم. آمریکا برام مظهر بدبختی بقیه کشورهای دنیا بود...جای تعجبی هم نداره... با شعار مرگ بر آمریکا و تحت لوای یک رژیم فاشیستی بزرگ شدم! اما وقتی به خاطر کار شوهرم شش سال پیش اینجا اومدم تازه احساس کردم چقدر فرق هست بین اون آمریکایی که توی اروپا و آسیا ازش نمایش داده می شه با مردم این کشور... گرچه الان همین امروز هم که دارم جواب ای-میل شما رو می دم لیلا جان... می دونم و باور هم دارم که جامعه و سیاستهای آمریکا هنوز خیلی راه داره برای بهتر شدن (نمونه بارز و تاسفبار زندان ابو غریب یا حتی... مسیله بیمه پزشکی تو این مملکت) اما – و باز هم این رو روی مسافرتهایی که به جاهای مختلف کرده ام و جاهایی که زندگی کرده ام و الانم تجربه این شش سال زندگیم در اینجا رو می گم- بهترین کشوری هست که آدمها کم کم یک قانونی برای حمایت ازشون هست... و این قانون که ممکنه حداقل هم باشه خیلی خیلی بیشتر از اون چیزی هست که توی جوامع کشورهای اروپایی وجود داره و کشورهای جهان سوم هم که دیگه نقض حقوق اولیه بشر مثل نفس کشدن توی تن مردم جا افتاده یا توسط حکومتهاشون به زور جا انداخته شده (حالا مثالهای گفتاری و رایج رو اینجا نمی نویسم.) اینجا (آمریکا) اگر عقاید سیاسیت رو بگی محکوم به فنا نمی شی... فرصتها رو از آدم نمی گیرند... بازوت رو به زور نمی گیرن و بگن باید به من ، به عقیده من، دین من، ایدولوژی من احترام بگذاری. اینجا مثل هر جای دیگه درسته که هر چی بودی و با هر سرمایه مالی و دانشی شاید که مجبور بشی از صفر شروع کنی ولی آدم بودنت زیر سوال نمی ره...

و البته این باز فقط نظر شخصی منه!

  

 

امروز با سر تب دار توی اتاق نشسته ام و دختر رو نگاه می کنم که بیرون در حال تاب خوردنه... و افکارم مثل تلو تلو خوردنهای پدر روی تپه پشت خونه... جلو وعقب می ره... بین تهرانی که یادم میاد وسبزی و جوانه های بوته های یاس زرد، گلهای رز صورتی و شکوفه های هلو و خاک نفس کشیده باغچه و بهار و پاسدارها و بسیجیها و ترسها. چقدر فرق هست بین این بهار با اون بهارها که زیر نور چراغ نفتی و شمع و بمبارانها برای امتحانهای مدارسی که فقط توش حرف زور و اراجیف یاد داده می شد باید درس می خوندم با امروز که از پشت پنجره دختر کوچولو رو می بینم که در آرامش و آزادی تاب می خوره.... چقدر خوشحالم برای همه روزهایی که سختی کشیدم ولی امروز می تونم اینجا باشم دور... دور از شخصیتهای خیالی که خودشون رو هر روز بیشتر ذخیره می کنند و با زبان بی منطق به شیشیه وجود آدمها مشت می کوبند و ادعای کشف دنیا و حقایق مزخرفشون رو می خواهند مثل بیماری توی تن آدم فرو کنند... اینجا اما تصمیم و انتخاب با من هست.. اینجا بدون اینکه چرت بعد ازظهر اجباری باشه می شه ناله زد، سختیها رو مدفون کرد، خمیازه کشید، راحتی آدم مثل موهای کوتاه و بی ریخت... از توی دو تا سوراخ بینی بیرون نمی زنه... خشونت اسم نمایشنامه امام حسین به خودش نمی گیره و حماقت به اسم ایدولوژی یا دین توی دیگ مغز آدم کوبیده نمی شه... اینجا البته هر چیزی قالب خودش رو داره... هر سازی صدای خودش رو داره و هر بیماری نشانیهای خودش رو اما می شه ساز رو کوک کرد و بیماری رو علاج... اما جایی که بهار بچه گیهای من توش برای یک ذره نفس کشیدن التماس می کرد... ابعادش... با سیم خاردار حصار کشی شده بود و نقش آدمها از شکموهای هرزه خور و آدمکش که گاه مثل ماههای تمام نشدنی بعد از عشقهای سرخورده کش می اومدند... هم... بله... طولانی تر می شد...

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الهام جان... یادته اون کتاب زنان کوچک رو که نوشته ام.آلکوت بود؟ چقدر دوست داشتیم مثل جو (ژوزفین) باشیم... نویسنده بشیم... و امضای نامه هامون رو پسوند شلوغ پلوغ بزنیم. از اون داستانهایی که گروه پنج- شش نفره نویسندگیمون اون موقع که یازده ساله بودیم می نوشتیم چیزی... نگه داشتی؟ پدر که همه کاغذها و کتابها و نامه های عاشقانه خودش و مامان رو کیلویی فروخته یا دور ریخته... می گه وقتی کسی نیست... برای کی نگه دارم.

  

 

کسی که جزوی از ساختار حکومت است، حکومتی است! و کسانی که به خاطر او و يا حمايت​هايش توانسته اند پله​های ترقی را به سرعت طی کنند هم حکومتی خواهند بود. شما نمی​توانيد موسوی​خوئينی​ها و به تبع او جماعت مرکز تحقيقات استراتژيک را غير حکومتی بدانيد.

برگرفته از وبلاگ نیک آهنگ کوثر

  

 

Lies, Damn Lies, and (MSM) Statistics
Redstate

"On the third anniversay of the Iraq war, the MSM keeps bombarding us with stories and statistics trying to compare this war to the carnage in Vietnam. While every lost serviceman and servicewoman is certainly tragic and should be mourned, the actual statistics tell quite a different tale from the MSM and Democratic doom-and-gloom outlook. Comparing the numbers of lost US military personnel to past years, and past presidential terms, may even be a shock to supporters of the war."

...comments for or against it can be found here.

  

 

With me there is always something going on. If it is not my arm, it is my back and if it is not my back something shows up somewhere else. I am suffering. My hand is on my face and am walking back and forth. I don't know if the pressure and troubling pain in the face is sinusitis symptom or toothache. As a child I suffered from sinusitis or so the doctor said. My dad had his own theory. He blamed it on the open windows of the minibus that I rode back home from the swimming pool in the summers. Those were the days. Swimming and coming home to an inviting glass of fresh watermelon juice that my dad had made ready for us.

Oh! This pain! Such a pain!

همیشه یک چیزی برام داره اتفاق می افته... اگر دستم درد نمی کنه... کمرم درد می کنه... اگر کمرم درد نمی کنه یک جاییم بالاخره باید یک دردی خودش رو نشون بده... الان هم دارم درد می کشم. دستم روی صورتم هست و چپ و راست قدم می زنم... نمی دونم درد سینوزیت هست یا دندون درد! وقتی کوچیک بودم سینوسیت داشتم یا این چیزی بود که دکتر به پدرم گفته بود. البته پدرم تیوری خودش رو داشت و می گفت این به خاطر پنجره های باز مینی بوسی بود که تابستونها باهش از استخر برمیگشتم. اونروزهای خاطره انگیز... که از استخر می اومدیم و سه تا لیوان بلند آب هندوانه تازه منتظر من و دو تا برادرام بود ...

آخ! این درد لعنتی.


الهام جان یادته اونروزها هر روز صبح با هم تلفنی حرف می زدیم؟

  

 

Iran Supreme Leader sanctions talks with US on Iraq
(Reuters)
TEHERAN - Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei on Tuesday sanctioned talks with the United States on Iraq, saying Iranian officials would tell the US to leave the country.

"If Iranian officials can express Iran's opinion about Iraq to Americans and make them understand Iran's views, talks on this issue are not problematic," Khamenei, who has the final say in all state matters, said in the northeastern city of Mashhad. "But if (talks) mean opening up an arena for deceitful Americans to continue their bullying attitude, talks with America on Iraq are banned," he said in a televised speech.

  

 

Oliver Google Kai: a baby called "Google"

Clearly not one to shy away from a unique moniker, Dr. Kai also tells us that in the Lebanese tradition both parents have a name related to the child. "All our friends and families are calling us Abou Google (Google's father) and Emm Google (Google's mother)."

بچه ای که پدرش به خاطر عشق به جستجوگر گوگل اسم پسرش رو گوگل گذاشته! این پسر از یک مادر سویدی و پدر لبنانی به دنیا آمده.

  

 

"Strange thing about these peace movements: they rarely mobilize to oppose the killing, torture and imprisonment practiced by dictators. It is only when their own country attempts to end the oppression that the activists become active against America, not the initiators of evil."

Cal Thomas, Syndicated Columnist

  

 

Cara Cara Bella Bella



March 20th was the Persian New year. In celebration of Nowruz... we managed to cut Somagh out of our backyard, buy fresh vegetable from a supermarket to act as our Sabzeh and our little girl added her own personal touch here and there. After all what is an ancient New Year without a Cinderella, a Bell and a Sleeping Beauty!

  

 

چقدر اینجا سرده. این گوشه زیرزمین که کامپیوتر خسته و صدکیلویی من افتاده روی یک میز چوبی که زمانی براش کلی پول داده بودم. این گوشه که خیلی سرده با شوفاژ چند قدم بیشتر فاصله نداره... اما نمی خوام بلند بشم برم روشنش کنم... وقتی بادکنکها گرم بشوند... می ترکند و دلم نمی خواد زیرزمین از رنگ و روی شادی که برای دختر کوچولو درست کردم بیرون بیاد.. بینی ام از سرما یخ زده... فین و فین... و روی میزم یک پسر بچه گچی با لباس هالووین بالای یک کدو تنبل بزرگ چهارزانو نشسته و به من زل زده! منهم از تنبلی نبردمش بگذارم قاطی تزیینات مخصوص فصل خرمن تا بلکه اونجا زل بزنه و بشینه به انتظار پاییز و تغییر رنگ برگها! روی میزم که یک میز چوبی خسته و پکر هست یک چراغ براق و نو روشنه. کنارش هم دستمال کاغذی و گوشی تلفن و چند ورق پاره و دو تا بلندگو. خودکار و مدادهام هم توی یک لیوان که از دهکده المپیک توی سویس خریدم ردیف و قبراق ایستادند. یک دیسک هم که جی لندنی برام خیلی وقته فرستاده دراز کشیده روی تلی کارت پستالهایی که یا خودم تو کشورهای مختلف خریده بودم یا دوستام برام فرستاده بودند. کتاب سنگسارم هم روی کاتولوگ دانشگاه خوابیده یا به قول دختر کوچولو سانتویچ نون و پنیر شده! دماسنجی هم که مامان برای اتاق دخترک چند سال پیش از ایران خریده بود و آورده بود... با سوزن برآمده روی مونیتر پز تیزی و زرنگیش رو می ده. آخ ولی... چقدر سرده اینجا. این گوشه که تا شوفاژ چند قدم بیشتر فاصله ندارم و از ترس ترق تترق ترکیدن بادکنکهای دخترک از جام جم نمی خورم. دلم نمی خواد رنگهای سبز، سفید و سرخ بترکند و دخترک تو حسرت بادکنکهاش ... چشمهاش اشک آلود بشه.

چقدر امروز کار سرم ریخته! برم... برم... بلکه از پسرک که با لباس هالویین چهارزانو روی کدو تنبل نشسته... جلو بزنم.

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الهام جان وقتی بود که با هم باشگاه حجاب روبروی پارک لاله (؟) بسکتبال بازی می کردیم... چقدر باید از پله ها بالا پایین می دویدیم ... عرقی بود که روی صورتهامون پخش می شد و لپهامون که از گرما گر می گرفت و نفسهامون که به هن و هن می افتاد... سپیده جون یادمه تولدت بود تو آمادگی... و کیک آورده بودی... و همه پسرها نشسته بودند و دخترها باید می رقصیدند و من از معلممون خواهش کردم که بگذاره من نرقصم... اما اجازه نداد و باید که ما حتما دور تو می رقصیدیم و من از خجالت آب می شدم... ولبهام رو به پایین... کش می اومد!...

و من الباقی...

  

 

ما، گلهای خندانیم ...... فرزندان ایرانیم
ایران پاک خود را ...... مانند جان می دانیم
ما باید دانا باشیم ...... هُشیار و بینا باشیم
از بهر حفظ ایران ...... باید توانا باشیم
آباد باشی ای ایران! ...... آزاد باشی ای ایران!
از ما فرزندان خود ...... دلشاد باشی ای ایران!

عبّاس یمینی شریف

نوروز هم اومد... هیچی از روز پیش بهتر یا زیباتر نیست... آرومتر نیست.. ولی دلم می خواد که باشه و بشه... که روزهای بهتری باشه... که آرامش و صلح باشه... اما حالا که نیست و من باز هم فقط می تونم بنویسم که دلم می خواد همیشه و هر روز آدمها در آرامش (جانی، روحی و مادی و...) باشند... دلم می خواد چشمهایی که این صفحه رو می نویسند و یا می خونند... از یک ذهن فهمیده و معقول و قلب مهربون و با صفا، پر وفا و عشق سرشار باشه... برای دخترم هم آرزو دارم که هیچوقت از اینکه پدر و مادرش ایرانی هستند سرشکسته نباشه... ما فقط انسانهایی هستیم که گوشه ای از قطعه زمین به دنیا اومدیم... و متاسفانه اون گوشه ای که ما به دنیا اومدیم عده ای حکمرانی می کنند که انسان بودن براشون معنا نداره... دخترم... می خوام بدونی که انسان بودن به ملیت نیست... به مذهب نیست... و گرچه سرنوشت ما تاثیر پذیر محل تولدمون هست... اما هر روز ...روز نو و نوروز هست برای تو و هر انسانی که بخواد خود سازی کنه... با اینهمه نوروز برای من یادگار اجدادی هست و خاطره دارم... برای همین برام عزیز هست و دوستش دارم... امیدوارم که تو هم... که من و پدرت سعی داریم تا اونجایی که اذیتت نکنه با رسم و رسومهای قشنگ سرزمین مادر و پدریت آشنا بشی... دوست داشته باشی که هر سال توی این روز بهاری... مثل امروز... از معلمهات و دوستهات توی این نقطه که خیلی از ایران دوره بشنوی: " سال نو مبارک دختر کوچولو"...

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به بهارانه پانته آ غربتستان و هاله سرزمین آفتاب هم گوش کنید

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از امروز هم هر روز هر وقت یادم باشه برای الهام عزیزم یک چند خطی می نویسم... الهام نازنینم... اولین باری که دیدمت و باهات آشنا شدم دوم دبستان بودم و معلممون خانوم هایده مهدتی بود... الان هم هنوز چشمهات باهوش و بادومی قهوای و براقند... و صدات مهربون... چون به سپیده گفتم به الهام قول دادم هر روز یک خطی بنویسم به شوخی گفت راجع به اونم بنویسم... سپیده جونم با تو در کلاس خانوم ناهید آژیر از آمادگی همکلاس بودیم... ریس مدرسه امون پدر شعر کودکان ایران آقای عبّاس یمینی شریف بود... تو ژاکت قرمزت به تن... دست مامان بزرگت رو می گرفتی و می اومدی مدرسه... ... ...

و من الباقی...

  

 

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the prettiest of them all?

I write to my wonderful American friend (his book of poems is just being published and you can order it here,) to ask what do Americans do for their children's birthday parties to entertain the kids. He replies Piñatas! I march in to the store in the cold and freezing afternoon to buy it for my girl. All I see are Piñatas with animals, princesses or Spiderman prints! I don't want my girl and her friends to get the impression that it is ok to whack animals or the princesses (or Spiderman,) so I go for a hat!! While shopping I remember there are three boys in her list of friends and for them not to feel they are left out... in addition to the sparkly rings, some candy, and sea creatures... I buy small packs of dinosaurs! The first set of birthday finishes at 4 and the second round of family friends whom I have not invited in a big crowd for over two years arrive at 6. One of the kids has brought the little girl a set of My Little Pony toys. The next day (today) at the breakfast table the little girl comes to me and wants me to choose one as my favorite. I point at one of the ponies. She says but you HAVE to choose this one. I tell her I like to choose that one. She insists on That Other One for me to choose as my favorite. I smile and tell her we live in a democracy and I want to choose what I like. A few seconds later I give in and I choose what she wants me to but she has just turned four! On the other hand it is more than what I can say about a reader who has sent me his graceful e-mails! He believes I have turned him into a mirror to see myself, I am a dictator for choosing not to have a comment section and I should defend Ms. Ebadi. The little girl is a little girl. She plays princess. She and her generation have tea parties at every corner of their home, put puzzles together, play with Thomas the tank engine or small colorful cars and try to write their name in correct alphabets. They try hard and sometimes they succeed and sometimes they don't but they try! On the other hand the Iranians of past and present generation want to force their visual basic knowledge of alphabet that they find sparkly on anyone that goes against their pre-wired norms and ways! To me comparing omission of a weblog's comment section with murderous behavior of mullahs is offensive and a sign of limited intellect. I disable the comment section and put it back on if I desire to do so. For those who don't like it or get offended, the help is just a click away. "Rules of democratic behavior" are violated when someone tries to impose his/her opinions on others by use of force, censorship, etc. As for my opinion of Shirin Ebadi I don't find her truthful. This is based on things she has said or done (in some cases the things she has not said or done). Bringing up this threat issue might have been her way of weighing in after March 8th demonstration, which showed what a sea difference there is between her and a person like Simin Behbahani. Ebadi's doctrine is plain and simple: any change should happen within mullahs' laws. This means that she recognizes these laws as legitimate. I therefore suggest that she seeks protection in mullahs' rule of law in case she is threatened. And... Ebadi has a lot of powerful friends. Why would she need the support of a blogger?

  

 

Happy 4th birthday to my little girl and happy third year of blogging to Sheema Kalbasi, Mama blogger of the Iranian Woman!

  

 

P: Wake up Sheema... Wake up...
Sheema: earthquake? Fire?
P: Ganji is released...

  

 

Blogs, Hoder and the body politic.. He was in London on Thursday to talk politics, human rights and daily life.

Ok! Now... Hoder gets to talk about Human Rights? What about making a movie about his life! That way he gets to speak about his contributions to the human race!

  

 

حالا بعد دوسال و خرده ای که از مرگت گذشته مامان دارم خودم رو جمع و جور می کنم... یواش یواش... رسیدم به وقتی که هنوز زنده بودی... یواش یواش می تونم بدون اینکه به تو فکر کنم چشمهام رو ببندم و باز کنم... خونه تکونی کنم...آهنگ فیلم سنگام رو که دوست داشتی سوت بزنم و گردگیری کنم... یواش یواش...


چند سال پیش وقتی دختر کوچولو رو حامله بودم ... این موقع ها پیشم بودی اینجا اما اینجا... ته قلبم همیشه... این جای نبودنته که می سوزه...

دوست دارم...

  

 

TEHRAN, Iran (AFP) -Iran's Nobel peace laureate Shirin Ebadi, long a thorn (thorn? what thorn? liquid thorn you mean, yes?) in the side of the clerical regime in Tehran, said she had received death threats from an extremist group.

During times of personal crises think of the murderer mullahs and total charlatans you have been siding with... and may Allah save you sister!

  

 

When I get excited reading something... firecrackers hamper my spirit, Ah! the enjoyment! This blogger makes me fertile of such emotions.

Count Down, in a recent post titled Lies, Deception, and the Washington Post blogs: "Of course Karl Vick and David Finkel's conclusion is quite different. For them the sweetest part of the story is probably when Baghi calls Bush stupid George. More interestingly they mention closure of 100 publications in 2000 by the hardliners. About the same time, Ganji and many other activists go to jail (even initially sentenced to death) for attending a conference in Berlin. At that time there was no stupid George in the White House to offer $85M for the cause of democracy. The only thing the White House had to offer then was Madam Albright's appeasement of the mullahs."

  

 

Reading this post made me feel like hugging myself.. and after a hectic day like the one I had today.. I am going to stretch my motions and post it on my blog... it's good to look into the chocolate factory and license yourself to pick one... so thank you...

"But lucky for us, ours is also a milieu that consistently re-produces many individual voices that refuse their oubliettes. And the sooner our culture--each one of us--come to seriously grapple with this simple fact, the better our chances of helping bring about a more humane, civil, tolerable nation. As partisans, of course, we find it difficult to practice what we preach. And all the strife and wars don’t make it any easier. It is a perpetual struggle.

Perhaps this is as good a time as any to simply do what I hope to be able to do at some ideal point in some imaginary future. Here then is my link for today:

An audacious woman, poet, loving mother, blogger, adoring daughter, nurse, concerned sister, responsible citizen, wife, activist, and one generally tireless, principled warrior."

by Brooding Persian

  

 

Emad Baghi: “We are under pressure here both from hard-liners in the judiciary and that stupid George Bush.” I love the moral equivalence: Bush wants to help them acquire freedom, while the regime (neatly reduced to a couple of bad guys in the Ministry of Injustice) crushes them. And Bush is the stupid one.

By Michael ledeen

  

 

And my today's Kathak dance of story telling actually comes forth from an incident that happened to me yesterday!

Fuck You Arab!

This was what I heard as I walked passing his car. A few minutes earlier he and two other boys had looked me straight in the eye with hate and despise! The boy didn't know I am not an Arab and it wouldn't matter to him or to me. What matters now and then is that he hated me for what I presented to him. It is not the first time I have heard racist remarks. I lived in Denmark for many years where freedom of speech for most parts means social and psychological abuse of the immigrants. The difference between Denmark and U.S. is I have a say over here. I can do something about it. I have a choice. For me United States is where my dignity as a human being is not questioned. You see! I can't complain in Denmark. I can only be grateful to Denmark for all it has offered me as its citizen when my birth country (Iran) rejected, and treated me as a second citizen for being a woman...

but here is United Stated and I have the civil right!

  

 

Tag, You're It!
I believe Islam like Christianity and Judaism needs reform

It's Sunday morning. I am running around the living room in my jogging suit playing something I don't know if it is called tiger eat or tag you it! When I ask the little girl she tells me it's called: "tageat." I am thinking about asking her teacher what the name of the game is! I like to know what it is I am playing. The same way I like to know about everything else, from poetry to sports to philosophy and history or religion. With emphasize on the religion, as completing a trinity of religions alongside Judaism and Christianity, Islam being the youngest is experiencing similar obstacles inevitable for progress and reform. For me personally being an Iranian, issues related to the human abuse cases in Iran comes first. The compatibility of Islam with democracy and human rights is a hotly debated topic within religious circles and Islamic theologians are welcome to spend years and years debating it*. But while several abuse cases take place in the name of Islam it is unforgivable not to question the moral of the story. It is tricky to be born to the long line of Ayatollahs from my father's side and growing up seeing my mother practice Islamic Sufism and deny the impact of religion of Islam on my existence. Denying Islam will be denying what has influenced my life the most, from the ruling regime in Iran from which I left Iran in pursuit of a free life to racist comments in Europe. So I do not denounce Islam but I denounce accepting the terrorism and the guardianship of murderers in the name of this faith or any religion, ideology and race for that matter. At the same time I believe Islam like Christianity and Judaism needs reform. Since Muslims truly believe Quran can't be reformed, perhaps it is the political influence of this religion and intervention in personal lives of people on the part of Islam’s self-declared guardians, which has to be restricted. History has shown that only through separation of religion and state can religion gain the dignity it deserves and the society gets the freedom it needs to foster and safeguard the so-called "marketplace of ideas"**. Wafa Sultan, Arab-American psychologist, in a debate aired on Al- Jazeera a couple of weeks ago discussed the clash between freedom and oppression. Do I agree with her? Yes! I agree that regardless of the oppressive regimes in Iran and other Middle Eastern countries, Muslims can and should learn to channel their outrage and anger in more proper ways. Respect the lives of people before religion, race, ideology and sexual orientation.


* Open criticism, Sheema Kalbasi, November 26, 2003 The Iranian
** Open criticism, Sheema Kalbasi, November 26, 2003 The Iranian

  

 

My reply to Trita Parsi's response to mine is:
(I am not directing this just at Trita but/and to those other Iran and Middle East experts in the western media as well!)

I don't think the issue is about passionate or dispassionate analyzes of the events as much as it's about understanding the true nature of the Iranian regime.

  

 

Iranian political prisoners’ criticism of Shirin Ebadi

Dated February 24, 2006

Farsi to English translation by Ramin Etebar, M.D.


To Leaders of western governments, their respective foreign ministers & human rights organizations, We have deemed it necessary to direct your attention to the following matters:

It has been approximately two years since awarding the Noble peace prize to Shirin Ebadi . Even though it was our pride that an Iranian woman was awarded the prize, this does not prevent us from mentioning her weaknesses.

Mrs. Ebadi having plenty of financial and political opportunities as well as being an authority on human rights in Iran has the opportunity to voice the human rights violations in Iran. Prior to receiving the Noble prize she was an ordinary lawyer that was jailed less than 25 days and was released after writing a repent letter, naturally not much was expected of her, but today, given the circumstances above, we have higher expectations from her. We have noted a conservative attitude in her depicted in interviews, speeches, articles and reports.

A few days ago, the execution rumor of our prison friend Hojat Zamani with whom we had an ideological conflict broke out. We and Hojat’s family have been in a psychological warfare with the regime, rumors of his execution were never confirmed or denied. Mrs. Ebadi failed to mention or condemn this act by the regime.

Isn’t Hojat Zamani a human being? We are certain that Mrs. Ebadi dose not report the truth to the western leaders and human rights organizations.

Her reports are ‘directed” and cause diversion, to the point that her status has declined to a lobbyist for 3 of her friends that are respected by us.

She has never mentioned some people who have spent 27 years of their life in prison. She has never defended the imprisoned students and political dissidents

who are in jails for several years. She has no true knowledge of the political prisoners’ statistics and census. She thinks that all the political prisoners are the three individuals that she is representing them as a lawyer. She even introduces her friends for political prisoner’s awards, she will not mention people who have suffered more tortures and prison terms than her friends and are popular among the people. Aren’t these actions discriminatory and misrepresentation of the truth? How is this that she vigorously endeavors and advocates for her friend and client in jail for espionage, yet she does not speak a word for dissidents who have been jailed and tortured several years for nonviolent resistance? Isn’t this discrimination and apartheid?

Why should the Western leaders in Europe and America as well as human rights organizations be influenced and “canalized” by such a suspicious character?

Does Iran have only 3 political prisoners? Why shouldn’t she say a word about the 8 death row prisoners that can be executed any minute? Is this claiming justice and defense of human rights? Unfortunately it appears that the western leaders are being severely influenced by such unjust and problematic lobbyist!

How often from focusing on two or threes prisoners, by awards, political propaganda and censoring other political prisoners this segregation is comprehensible?

It is imperative that any Iranian nationalist try to translate this critique to different languages specially English, German, French, and Spanish; notify
western leaders, their foreign ministers, and human rights organizations as well as the media in Europe and specially the United States; asking them to expose this discrimination and apartheid in human rights.

Soon we will issue a communiqué regarding biography, past performance and negligence of Mrs. Shirin Ebadi concerning duty and mission for public defense of human rights in a clear and transparent manner.



Signed by: Dissident students and political prisoners


From Evin Prison:

Manouchehr Mohammadi
Akbar Mohammadi
Khaled Hardani
Mostafa Jokar
Behnam Vafaseresht
Hashem Shaeian
Hydar Gholi Soltani
Hojat Bakhtiari
Hamid Reza Mohammadi
Mohsen Bapiri

from Rajai Shahr Prison:

Asad Shaghaghi
Amir Heshmat Saran
Vallyollah Faiz Mahdavi
Mehrdad Lohrasebi
Jafar Eghdami

From Mazandaran prison :

Reza Ashrafpour

  

 

These past few days have been hectic... I know! I know! I am blabbering again... this is Sheema after all! Anyway... P has been busy (what else is new!) reading (this is under the pressure of living with sheema a.k.a. a book nerd!) books and discussing it every night while I am trying to recollect my energy (even my Taekwondo master who has studied under master of the masters... thinks I should attend his meditation classes,) where was I? Hum... yes! P has been reading books about fascism ...and the other night... he told me something about Hitler... according to the author when Hitler killed himself... it was based on believing ...the world had not recognized his contributions!

  

 

Lucky Irani Circus

It was the name of a circus... a Pakistani friend once invited me to watch (when I lived in Lahore, Pakistan.) When I heard the name... the first thing that attracted my attention was its title: Irani Circus ... But it was not an Irani Circus! ...and several years later when I was grown out of my teenage years and in the fullness of time had the misfortune (or opportunity,) of meeting many and reading many articles by the Iranian maestros of deception... I finally let go of my national pride and accepted the fact that ...ajayabghar (the house of wonders in Urdu,) where the deformity of showmen lying on the ground and presented as seven wonders of the world was in fact less sickening!


...and this afternoon after reading Dr. Kaveh Afrasiabi's... article... I can see what a lucky nation we are!

  

 

Last week I was asked about the biggest misconceptions (educated) westerners have about Iran and life in Iran?... and I wrote back...

It was a day like any other foggy day in Denmark. As my nursing classmates and I were trying to work out a project related to diagnosis of an eighty-year-old woman in a nursing home, one of them suddenly asked "so Sheema say something in Arabic." I was going to respond reflexively that Iranians are Persians not Arabs. But instead I paused and wondered "in Arabic? What on earth has triggered a sudden urge in this beautiful blonde to hear me speak Arabic." Oh! let me see what movie was on TV the other night... Not without My Daughter, hmm. Sometimes I wish that nobody knew a thing about Iran, that nobody had heard anything about death Fatwas on writers, public hangings, mass executions, stoning, mutilation, terrorism. But wouldn't it be exactly what the tyrants want? I wish the westerners had sympathy with the victim. I wish they believed that I genuinely don't think Rushdie deserves to die.

  

 

Mullahs' Miserable Failure

Count Down blogs: "With the miserable failure of mullahs' nuclear diplomacy it appears that the mullahs are heading for either a humiliating concession or a conflict."

  

 

به همت شاعر هموطنمان روشنک بیگناه ویژه نامه ای برای هشت مارس گردآوری و در سایت کتاب شعر چاپ شده است...

به شعر خودم... نوروزک لینک می گذارم... مدتهاست که شعرهایم رنگ و بوی دیگری می دهند و دلم برای من زیر همه نگرانیهای سیاسی و اجتماعی تنگ شده...



می دویم: دامنت کفشهایت خنده هایت
مشتهایش بذرهایش خواسته هایش

برای دخترم و به امید روزی که در سرزمین مادر و پدری اش ... ایران... سنگی به زنی زده نشود... زنی ایرانی از زور فقر به فحشا و اسیری گرفته نشود... و باز هم در ایران ...انسانی به هیچ علتی ... اعدام نشود

  

 

"به آدم ساده لوحی گفتن تا حالا "موز " خوردی ؟ گفت آره اون که هسته اش زرده ؟

حالا حکایت ما و روز جهانی زن ! از دیروز تا حالا به هر وبلاگ و سایتی سرک می کشم ،صحبت از روز جهانی زن و این حرفهاست . اما هر چه به حال و گذشته نگاه می کنم چیزی به نام حق و حقوق نه دیده ام نه لمس کردم و نه می توانم بفهمم ! ما زنان ایرانی در کجای این جهان قرار گرفته ایم که چنین مهجور و مظلوم مانده ایم؟ آنقدر در منگنه بودیم که نمی توانیم بفهمیم حقَ ما زنان چیست ؟ اگر روزی روزگاری به این حق و حقوق رسیدیم چگونه باید از آن بهره مند شویم . صحبت از حق و حقوق زن در ایران برای ما به مانند صحبت از معادلات ریاضی برای یک کودک ۲ ساله است ! همانقدر نامفهوم ،همانقدر نا مانوس !"

بر گرفته از وبلاگ آونگ خاطره هاي ما

  

 

زیر پل حافظ... روبروی وزارت بهداری (بهداشت و درمان آینده!) توی ماشین قرمز استیشن با بابا و دایی نشستیم...و منتظر مامانیم که با روسری و روپوش و کیفی که روی بازوش لق می زنه از پشت میزش بلند بشه، احتمالا روی پله های پهن و سنگ مرمر تلق تلق کفشهاش رو بکوبه و شش طبقه رو پایین بیاد! و بعد هم کارتش رو بزنه و از در وزارتخونه بزنه بیرون و خیابون رو رد کنه و من توی دلم ذوق کنم که امروز اومدیم دنبال مامان. ولی خوب هنوز هیچکدوم این اتفاقها نیافتاده و نه مامان از پشت میزش بلند شده و نه از پله ها پایین آمده و نه کارتش رو زده و توی همین زمان هست که دایی داره سعی می کنه من شیمای نه ساله رو قانع کنه که به جای نرسینگ برم دندونپزشکی بخونم که اختیارم دست خودم باشه، که کلید مطبم دست خودم باشه، که هر موقع خواستم تعطیل کنم و به شوهر و بچه هام برسم. من اصرار دارم که می خوام پرستار بشم. می خوام از مردم پرستاری کنم نه اینکه دندوناشون رو تمیز کنم. من نه ساله ام و دنیا برام توی داستان فلورانس نایتینگل خلاصه می شه... و گرچه مامان دوست داره پزشک بشم و بابا می گه اگه انقلاب نشده بود می تونستم برم افسر ارتش بشم... ولی من عقب ماشین بالا پایین می پرم که من می خوام پرستار بشم... پرستار! مثل فلورانس نایتینگل.


من سی وسه ساله ام... نرسینگ خوندم... توی بیمارستان و خونه سالمندان هم کار کردم... و حالا امشب روی مبل قهوه ای اتاق نشیمن روبروی تلوزیون زیر پتوی قرمز چنباتمه زدم... لیوان چای با طعم به روی میز چوبی منتظره که لابه لای انگشتهای سردم بشینه... نوک بینیم یخ کرده و اگه مامان زنده بود و اینجا... احتمالا بینی و صورتم رو توی دستش می گرفت و می گفت باز که یخ کردی... من کنار پ نشستم و پدر درحالیکه لنگ می زنه... و عینکش چشمهای درشت سیاهش رو خیلی کوچیک نشون می ده... میاد که بره روی مبل روبرو بشینه...( و من حوصله ندارم که از پله ها خودم رو بالا بکشم -که بعد از یک نصفه روز جیغ و داد دختر کوچولو که صبح ساعت چهار بیدار شده بوده و از خستگی دمار خودش و خودم رو امروز از بعد از ظهر درآورده بوده- برم بهش سر بزنم...) یکی از چند کتاب دوران کودکیم رو می گذاره جلوم و می گه اینها رو برای دختر کوچولو آوردم که اگه خواستی شبها قبل خواب براش بخونی... تشکر می کنم... و شروع می کنم به ورق زدن... آخرین صفحه کتاب بانوی چراغ بدست ... شیمای نه ساله ای رو می بینم که با عشق و خط بچه گانه اش برای خودش نوشته و امضا کرده: "من به او (فلورانس نایتینگل) عشق می ورزم و می خواهم در بزرگی مانند او پرستاری خوب و مهربان برای مردم کشورم باشم... پرستاری مهربان و دلسوز"

  

 

"Abdolfattah Soltani, One of the lawyers representing Iranian opposition leader and journalist Akbar Ganji was released from prison last weekend after a group of supporters signed over the deed of a Tehran property to the regime as bail." and "The deputy director for research of the Washington Institute for Near East Policy, Patrick Clawson, concurred yesterday. "The big question is are they going to let Ganji go or not? And so far I see no indications that the government is going to do it," he said. Mr. Clawson added that it was typical in Iran to let a few political prisoners out of jail before Nowruz, the equivalent of Arab tyrants freeing such prisoners at the end of Ramadan."

by Eli Lake published on nysun

  

 

دختر کوچولو به زودی توی تکواندو کمربند سبز می گیره و ما هر روزی که از کلاس بر می گردیم باید براش توضیح بدم چرا امروز هنوز کمربند سبزش رو نگرفته.
دختر کوچولو: مانی... یکشنیه (به زبون دختر یعنی یک روزی از روزهای گذشته) گفتین کمربند سبزم رو می گیرم. چرا پس مستر (آقای) ایکس کمربندم رو نداده؟
من: نمی دونم دختر جون.
دختر کوچولو: ولی مانی شما همه چی رو می دونین.
من: نه دختر جون. من همیشه همه چی رو نمی دونم. مانی چیزهایی که خونده یا یاد گرفته رو تازه اونم اگه خاطرش مونده باشه می دونه... مثلا من الان نمی دونم چرا آقای ایکس هنوز کمربند سبز شما رو نداده. می خوای برگردیم ازش بپرسیم؟

  

 

سخر لقا

دختر کوچولو: آفرین مانی شیما! مرسی وسایلم رو جمع می کنی. حالا برنده می شی من این تاج رو برات می گذارم دوتایی با هم می شیم سیندرلا.

چند دقیقه بعد.. مانی؟ هاپوم ( اشاره به یکی از سگهای پارچه ای) رو بوس کن... دلش برات تنگ شده .
شیما: بوس
دختر کوچولو: اسم فارسی روش گذاشتم.
شیما: اسمش چیه؟
دختر کوچولو: سخرلقا!

  

 

پاهایم را که روی زمین بیداری گذاشتم یادم افتاد خوابهایم همه گفتگوی تمدنها بوده است... من... تو... می پرسم ما اینقدر متمدن بودیم که شاعران را بال می بریم... که نویسندگان را قلم شکسته... که وند را از شهر های ایران و اذان پیش از نماز را بر می داریم؟ و مخملهای سفید را خون زده... سایه را تیغ دیوار، آفتاب سیاه رابر سر کوه، پاره کاغذهای بست نشسته میان کتاب قصه کودکان ایرانی...

و پنجره های باز که بسته می شوند ...و من که انگشتانم را به درون ششهایم فرو می کنم و به دنبال حک شده های روزم می چرخانم.

آخر حتی در اوج قدرت، سمینارها، کنفرانسها و بازیهای جمعی هم من هر روز دریده می شوم ... سه گونه به دار آویخته می شوم... سنگسار می شوم... برای نداده ها و نبوده ها تحقیر می شوم و دختران و خواهرانم به فحشا فروخته می شوند و این فقط نه از مردان که از زنان هموطنم است...


هرگز به پشتیبانی من دست اعتراض بلند نکردی ... و اگر هم که نمایشی برپا داشتی... مدرنیته پوششی دادی... لیکن ذهنیتت همان تلنبار بسته های پیش آموخته ... باقی مانده است...

شاید که تا هشت مارس بعدی.

  

 

How we duped the West, by Iran's nuclear negotiator

Revelation of Mr Rowhani's remarks comes at an awkward moment for the Iranian government, ahead of a meeting tomorrow of the United Nations' atomic watchdog, which must make a fresh assessment of Iran's banned nuclear operations. The Iranians' biggest setback came when Libya secretly negotiated with America and Britain to close down its nuclear operations. Mr Rowhani said that Iran had bought much of its nuclear-related equipment from "the same dealer" - a reference to the network of A Q Khan, the rogue Pakistani atomic scientist. From information supplied by Libya, it became clear that Iran had bought P2 advanced centrifuges.

by Philip Sherwell

  

 

"Any regime, elected or not, that works to build a free society should be seen as a partner, if not a friend. Likewise, any regime, elected or not, that chokes freedom should be seen as an adversary, if not an enemy. Obviously, any regime that supports terrorism is hostile to the most fundamental principles of a free society and should therefore be treated as an enemy."

by Natan Sharansky published on Los Angeles Times

  

 

Iranian Solidarity?
Workers take on the mullahs. Is the world listening?

"What did enlightened people do to support the strikers? Very little. Most Iranian intellectuals, former Marxist activists included, were consumed by polite electronic debates over the Dutch cartoons. Hundreds of striking drivers were arrested, as the cameras of the world's biggest news agencies shot images of the couple of dozen government-paid hoodlums throwing rocks at the Danish embassy in Tehran. Wives and children, even distant relatives of the activists, were hauled off into detention to force the union leaders to turn themselves in, as India's Communist Party threatened to leave the ruling coalition in New Delhi if India voted to refer Iran to the Security Council. Clearly, workers of the world ought to postpone uniting until other scores are settled.

Historians agree that the most significant blow to Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi was delivered by the 1978 strike of the oil workers, which sparked other unions to join, and ultimately brought Iran's economy to a halt. But when the current regime systematically suppresses information, and the free press of the free world cannot be cured of its chronic fetish for uranium, will Iran's movement for democracy have any hope of gathering momentum?"

By Roya Hakakian published on WSJ

  

 

hallelujah



منت خدای را عز و جل که طاعتش موجب قربت است و خلقتش مایه عبرت
همسر ریس جمهور ایرانشوهرش را در سفر دیپلماتیک همراهی می کند ... باز می گن خاتمی و رفسنجانی رفورم-ایستند!

Iranian President Dr. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad... reforms the idea of Islamic republic's first wives club staying behind! hallelujah!

  

 

When I visited Iran

Boastfully displaying their authority, the religious supreme leaders drawings -with slogans printed underneath- launched by a widespread propaganda appeared everywhere. The walls contagious and ill colored were connected by an air link of sadness and loss. Almost all of them echoed the message to the accuracy of the Islamic republic and the Iran-Iraq war. One painting in particular with paints applied to blister the eyes was this one showing Ayatollah Khamenei next to Shahid Hussein Fahmideh -the most celebrated martyr by the regime- a 13-year-old basiji student who stood in the path of an enemy tank with a grenade and sacrificed his life.

  

 

FEMINISTS AND WOMEN IN IRAN [Kathryn Jean Lopez]

Matthew Yglesias links to feminists talking about human rights in Iran to say that feminists are not all silent on such things and that I don't know what I'm talking about. Of course there are feminists talk about real human rights (and right about now is the big U.N. confab on women, so this is a time for such things). But how often? How loudly? They are listened to and yet what do we usually hear them talking about, and the loudest?

Unfortunately though--and tell me if this is an unfair perception on my part--when you think of NOW and co., do you immediately associate them with fighting realhuman-rights outrages or do you hear OH NO SAM ALITO WILL TAKE AWAY OUR RIGHTS? I know which press releases and sound bites I'm routinely bombarded with. I know which march on Washington (a.k.a. pre-2004 Democratic Convention) I was at.

Yesterday President Bush talked about girls in Afghanistan who are able to go to school for the first time. If I were the head of one of these groups that purports to speak for women I would have given him an award for the liberation of Afghanistan from the Taliban. And for challenging the U.N. and the nations of the world to take on sex slavery. Instead, they tell me he is waging a war on women.

  

 

تصاويری از اعدام امروز صبح اهواز

What could be more chic and civilized but to stand and watch public hangings!

BBC reports: Two men found guilty of bomb attacks in the south-western Iranian city of Ahwaz in 2005 have been publicly hanged, at the place where the bombings occurred. Several Iranian officials have blamed the bombings on British forces stationed just across the Iran-Iraq border.

  

 

I am watching the news. It is Rahmatullah, Taliban's handsome face (or better say Taliban's hunk hot male model!) I am shocked to my bones! He is at Yale?!! To those of you at Yale (or out there!) Do you want to support me... finish my studies at Yale? I speak as many languages as Rahmatullah does! If I sleep enough... I look pretty fresh to start as a fresh(wo)man at Yale! I will cover my hair, do belly dancing or jump like a kangaroo ...if I could get a signed check to pay for my full tuition at Yale! (Instead of being stuck in a state university... that I have to drive in a crazy-narrow road... with my life hanging by its cord!) I will even make an official agreement to study your chosen subject.

I can consider Harvard!

  

 

Great Job Award

Dear (prince/Mr) Reza Pahlavi... from one Iranian to another... I find your latest speech... true and to the point. Now I don't know who has written it for you! Was it Dr. Rob Sobhani, Kenneth Timmerman or someone else... but in any case I think... this is the best analyses I have read so far... and it's not because I was sneaking into your site to read your speech... but because at 1:00 a.m. my husband was calling my name (as I was trying to sleep...) just... to have me read your latest for myself! I congratulate you... (still am not going to vote for a monarchy system,) but to me... you are (or trying your best to be) a sound Iranian voice among many dishonest ones in or outside our beloved country... and for that I thank you!

parts of Reza Pahlavi's speech: "Like all totalitarian systems, the Islamist regime in Tehran needs to expand in order to survive. Mr. Ahmadinejad has worked to become more popular on the Arab street than he is in Iranian homes. His instruments of oppression – special units of the Revolutionary Guards and the Basijis – feel intensely disliked and find their morale eroded while on patrol in major Iranian cities, but they walk ten feet tall in the souks from Mindanawa to Damascus; this is because they present themselves as champions of radical Islamism in front of the West. As long as the Islamic Republic is in power, the project for democracy in the greater Middle East may actually pave the way for Iran’s expansionism. Witness the Islamic Republic’s ally Hamas’ victory in Palestinian elections. The coalition forces have removed Saddam and placed power in Iraq’s elected parliament. But who is the king maker in that parliament today? It is the leader of the Supreme Council for Islamic Revolution in Iran who for twenty years was nurtured and prepared for his present role by the leaders of the Islamic Republic. Nor is Iran limiting its bet to one option. Three weeks ago, the leader of the most radical Shiite faction in Iraq, went to Tehran to receive financial, intelligence and organizational support. When Iran's protégés have the money, information, and support from those who are masters of manipulation, intimidation and violence against their political opponents, they have a strong upper-hand against their rivals in a nascent democracy such as Iraq. In Lebanon, if Hezbollah can spend more money than the government building schools, mosques and hospitals – thanks to generous Iranian contributions – don’t be surprised if they win elections.

A “Bermuda Triangle” from Iraq to Lebanon to Palestine is being taken over by Iran’s allies through the ballot box. It could pull in the Moslem Brotherhood in Egypt, and when it does the same to the Shiites of the oil-rich Eastern province of Saudi Arabia, the encirclement of the Persian Gulf will be complete. Islamists will have achieved what the Soviets could not, namely complete control of the Persian Gulf oil and the jugular of Western economies. They would then have a latter day Caliphate to lead all the forces that are against the post Cold War vision of the free world. All the Islamic Republic needs in order to achieve this goal is to be able to use low intensity violence to supplement its financial, intelligence and organizational support for its allies. That, ladies and gentlemen, is why Iran needs the bomb: to neutralize the conventional military superiority of the West, and continue to use terrorism and low intensity violence without the fear of escalation to high intensity conventional warfare. For the free world, these are unacceptable outcomes. And yet, there isn’t much time to find a solution. The resumption of enrichment by the Islamic Republic has drastically reduced the window of decision. The vast number of commentaries and reports on the subject seem to come down to this: comparing diplomatic options with punitive ones, including military strikes. I am here to tell you that neither is an option:
The fruitless Euro-three diplomatic efforts have already given the theocrats three years. Another three years of cat-and-mouse games with the Russians under the IAEA buys enough time to make a bomb: that is the Islamic Republic’s plan and hope. As for a military strike, it will rally nationalistic sentiments which will work to the regime’s advantage, and consequently, give the theocracy a much longer lease on life. Make no mistake about it; the question is what comes first in Iran: Democracy or nuclear weapons? The race is on!"

"The regime’s response to the Reform Movement was to corrupt it from above by installing subservient leaders who later confessed their vow to defend the regime, not the people who elected them. They fragmented the student movement through a combination of torture, imprisonment, building a fifth column, and even a vast drug ring. Can you imagine, a year prior to the vast student protests of 1999, you could seldom find drugs in dorms; a year later heroin was cheaper than tobacco! This does not happen in authoritarian states, unless underwritten by the state itself. Living in the free world, you would expect that the natural means of communication with these circles would be a free press. Well, there are more journalists and web loggers in Iranian jails today than in any other country in the world. While the roots of a national communications network has to be inside Iran, the conclusion from the observations above is that the hub of this network cannot be inside the country. This is where the free world can help. I know of hundreds of young dissidents who have done organizational activity inside Iran, in effect connecting the aforementioned small local networks. Today they are sitting scared in places from Jordan to Turkey, or in refugee camps in European cities. With a little help from the free world, they can become the building blocks of a two-way communication network that aggregates the demands of the thousand circles of opposition into a national demand for democracy and against this theocracy. I stand here before you, appealing on behalf of the many dissidents who simply ask for the support of the free world. And I hope that I am right to being optimistic that the free world is indeed committed to invest in democracy as the solution for Iran, rather than endless negotiations or military strikes."

  

 

DoctorZin reports: Iran's "Order of Battle" to close the Strait of Hormuz, Revealed?

Ken Timmerman, NewsMax published details of a 30-page contingency plan, reportedly from the Strategic Studies Center of the Iranian Navy which outlines the order of battle for shutting down the Strait of Hormuz.

  

 

The Utah of the Middle East

Michael Totten blogs: "SULEIMANIYA, IRAQ – When I first saw the city of Suleimaniya, in Northern Iraq, during daylight I was startled. Out my hotel room window was a straight street, the first such street I had seen in almost half a year. That probably doesn’t sound like a big deal. And it isn’t. But it threw me for a second. There aren’t many right angles and straight lines in the East. Those few that exist are as striking as snow in the tropics for people like me who are used to disorienting and chaotic urban environments... But there was something oddly refreshing about the layout of Suleimaniya. I couldn’t stop thinking that it was the Utah of the Middle East."

  

 

وقتی کلمات بی فرم و شکل خودنمایی می کردند... فکر می کردم اگر مادر و پدرم برایم پشت سر هم خطوطی بکشند که مثل فواره آب روی کاغذ نقش می بست و کاغذ چروک می خورد... اسم و فامیل من است.. شیما کلباسی ... و پدر که هر روز صبح زود بیدارم می کرد تا به من دیکته بگوید... ساعت چند بود پدر؟ و من با چشمهای خسته قلم به دست روی کاغذ سواد یاد می گرفتم... هنوز غلط می نویسم... وقتی خسته ام و فکرم در هزار راستای داستان خم می شود... تق تق تق... این صدای کف آشپزخانه است و پدر کف زمین را با چکش می کوبد و صاف می کند... تق تق تق...

سارا انار دارد!