Chakameh on the web

who could believe

2011-03-28T00:28:00.000-07:00

Who could believe I can go for over 2 years without uploading a new note? I guess Facebook is taking over my cyber activities. Anyhow, if it is of any of your concern, during the past 2 years, there was a beautiful addition to my family. My daughter was born on a happy morning of July 17th and have enlightened my life with her presence. Now our family is complete.

From the Aloochekn=hanoom website

2009-06-17T09:58:00.001-07:00

It has been a while that I wanted to write something. Different things. Then it came election time and I wanted to write about it. The the aftermath of the elesction.....And I never did. Now I saw this on one of my beloved websites, and I share it.
دو روز است جانم در آمده برای جایی گذاشتن این نوشته. نمی دانم اینجا بالا بیاید یا نه. دسترسی به هیچ چیز نداریم. لطفا اگر قابل خوانده شدن است به هر طریق منتشرش کنیدما شرق نشین ها، که در کشتی غول پیکر و بی ضربان و تند پیمای دنیای امروز، هنوز نشسته بر یک تخته پاره ایم اسیر موج و گردابی چنین هائل. ما که هیچ نداریم غیر از هیجان و تحقیر و گیجی. ما که قرار است قرن ها عقب ماندگی از دنیا را در سالی و دهه ای و ماهی جبران کنیم و تاوان دادنش هم انگار ناگزیر است.داشتیم زندگیمان را می کردیم. بد و تلخ و سنگین و ناروا. اما زندگی مان را می کردیم. تا رسیدیم به گردنه یک انتخاب دیگر، می خوانی انتصاب دیگر هم بخوان. موج شدیم و شور شدیم و خروشیدیم که می خواهیم بتوانیم. می توانیم بخواهیم. به هم ریختیم. جمع شدیم. تفریق شدیم. تکثیر شدیم. شور و هیجان شدیم. به خیابان ریختیم بی جنگ و خشونت. با شادی و رنگ. تحقیرمان کردند رفقای شکل خودمان. انکارمان کردند متعصبان قدرت در خشاب. پوزخند کردند راهمان و امیدمان را. اما ما خواستیم خواسته مان را از تنها راه مدنی موجود بیان کنیم. با هم. انگار این بار این قدر رشد کرده بودیم و آن قدر سبز شده بودیم که تاریخی ترین هم زبانی آفریده شد. و به بدوی ترین و خشن ترین شکل انکار و تحقیر شدیم. و امروز گیج و مبهوت مانده ایم که چه شد؟ چرا؟ مانده ایم که این چه بازی خوردنی بود؟ این چه کاری بود کردیم؟ و باز هم رسانه دیکتاتور انکارمان می کند و فحاشی می کند. رفقای تحریم گر هم همین کار را می کنند. مثل قبل. فقط همین عوض نشده. می خواهم از این بهت بیرون بیایم . از این یاس. می خواهم سعی کنم نگاه کنم بدون هیجان و بدون تعصب. و فکر کنم. امروز این را که می نویسم خطرش بازداشت است به شیوه آدم ربایی. شعار که می دهم خطرش گلوله است از دو متری. سبز که می پوشم خطرش باتوم و چاقو است بدون هشدار. پس اگر این ها را که می گویم نقد می کنی و می خندی، لااقل تکیه نده به صندلیت. لااقل لیوانت را زمین بگذار و صاف بنشین. به احترام خونها و جانهایی که کنارمان ریخته و رفته.وقتی گفتیم ما تغییر می خواهیم نه انقلاب، گفتند این نظام تغییر پذیر نیست. با انتخاب اصلاح نمی شود. امروز می گویند دیدید؟ آن روز می گفتیم غیر از این می ماند به خیابان رفتن و گلوله خوردن. امروز آن رفقا را نمی بینیم کنارمان. می شنوم که هم صداها می گویند خطا کردیم و بازی خوردیم که رای دادیم و شرکت کردیم. چرا رفقا؟ در بهت روز اول و دوم می فهمیدم این جمله را. اما حالا؟ باور دارید که اشتباه کردیم؟ فکر کنید.اگر همه ما نمی رفتیم پای آن صندوق، امروز چه خبر بود؟ کسی می گفت حکومت کودتا؟ کسی می گفت حق مردم؟ کسی می گفت ایران شبیه رییس جمهورش نیست؟ کسی باور می کرد می شود روبروی زور ایستاد، هر چه قدر هم زیاد باشد؟ ما اولین هم صدایی را روز جمعه تجربه کردیم. و این یک هم صدایی ساده و اتفاقی نبود. و امروز ما کوتاه نیامده ایم. آن طرف قضیه هم. اگر می خواهید از این بهت در بیایید شاید این چند جمله کمک کند.برای درست جنگیدن باید جنگ را و ماهیتش را و طرفینش را بشناسیم. می گویند موسوی سال 67 چه می کرد؟ کروبی چه می کرد؟ رضایی چه می کرد؟ چه فایده ای دارد در قالب این حکومت تغییر کردن؟ چطور می توانی الله اکبر بگویی؟ چطور خرافات سبز را می چسبانی به خودت؟ مثل 57 گولتان می زنند.این بدیهی است که جنگی دراز هست بین دین و مخالفت با دین. این که من کدام طرفم را اجازه بدهید به خودم مربوط باشد. اگر جنگ شما امروز این است، پس تکلیفتان معلوم است. بهت چرا؟ اگر طرف دینید چاقو بردارید و بزنید. اگر آن طرفید هم سنگر بگیرید پشت پنجره و بی صدا بخندید به تار و مار شدن ما. اما جنگ من این نیست. جنگ ما این نیست.ما می جنگیم روبروی دروغ. روبروی ابتذال. روبروی قانون شکنی. روبروی تعصب کور. دختر جوان محجبه کنار دست من. مرد کراوات زده روبرو. زن خانه دار پشت سر. پیرمرد مومنی که هم صحبتم شده میان جمعیت و اشک می ریزد و ذکر می گوید و نفرین می کند ظالم را. او الان بهترین هم صف من است. من این قدر از سیاست می فهمم که وقتی پشت پیشرویی می ایستم تا آخر پشتش را خالی نکنم. موسوی هر چه بوده، هر چه هست یا کروبی یا حتی برادر محسن پاسدار، امروز بیشتر کنار منند تا تو ، رفیق تحریمی بی خاصیت. تو برخلاف همه ادعاهای بزرگت کوچکتر از آنی که حتی کنار دست بچه های کوچک سر کوچه جرات حس کردن این همدلی را از نزدیک داشته باشی. و تو چقدر شبیه آن تفنگ به دست قایم شده پشت پنجره فحش می دهی. و چقدر شبیه دوربین خاموش رسانه قدرت. شما چقدر شبیه همید. جنگ ما جنگ دین و بی دینی نیست. جنگ منطق و بی منطقی است. جنگ ما است در این جمعیت با هر که این جمعیت پشتش را لرزانده و کف به دهانش آورده. ما صدها هزار نفر از کنار بزرگترین مرکز بسیج خیابان آزادی آن روز گذشتیم. فضای بازش پر از لباس شخصی و گارد و پلیس بود. ما زنجیر سبز درست کردیم روبروی این ستاد. نگذاشتیم کسی نزدیک شود، توهین کند، تحریک کند. شعار همدلی دادیم. وقتی رفتیم پلیس و بسیجی را به آغوش کشیدیم و گفتیم که جنگ نداریم. آنها هم گفتند. آقای پلیس حواسش نبود. چشم می گرداند و می گفت پسر خودم هم انگار این جا است. می دانم آن که غروب آتش کشید به مردم او نبود که در آغوش من بود و آن که آتش زد ساختمان را ما نبودیم. این شمایید که می خواهید مملکت را به آتش بکشید. شمای این طرف و شمای آن طرف.ما گفتیم اهل جنگ نیستیم. اما الان به توی متعصب این طرف و توی متعصب آن طرف می گویم اهل کوتاه آمدن هم نیستیم. اهل ناامید شدن هم نیستیم. مطالباتمان معلوم است و به هیچ قدرتی هم باج نمی دهیم و با هیچ کس هم پدرکشتگی نداریم. نیامده ایم برای کوبیدن دین یا بی دینی. ما می رویم برای گرفتن حق مان. برای پیگیری ناحقی ها. برای خون هایی که ریختند و توهین هایشان. من متعقدم این جغرافیا خوب یا بد، چند دهه را در چند روز پشت سر گذاشت و بزرگ و بالغ شد. فقط تویی که جا ماندی دوربین قدرت. و تو تحریم گر تحقیرگر ملت. و تو چاقو به دست کور برادر کش. و تو که فکر و ذکرت محو کردن الله اکبر است. محسن رضایی و مهدی کروبی و میرحسین امروز با همه سوابقشان از تو به من نزدیک ترند. باور کنیم که صف دوست و دشمن ما روشن شده و تغییر کرده. اگر آن تفنگ روبرو دهان باز کند، این پیرمرد مومن و من گلوله می خوریم نه تو. و دنیا را من خبر کرده ام، نه تو. پیرمرد مومن کنار من مرا تفتیش نمی کند و من هم او را. تو برو خود را باش مفتش!و شما رفقای هم صدای ناامید. آزادی هزینه دارد. خون می خواهد. ما که نخواستیم خون کنیم. پس ناامید نشویم. پشیمان نشویم از کاری که کردیم. اگر میرحسین بی دردسر آمده بود امروز صدایمان را دنیا می شنید؟ امروز این همه با هم بودیم؟ ناامید نباشید. نترسید. به هیچ وجه اسیر خشونت نشوید. کینه را سر مخالف نریزید. آرام باشید. از درگیری و آشوب فاصله بگیرید و به کسی که پشتش ایستاده اید اعتماد کنید. او اولین کسی است که میدان را خالی نکرده. بگذارید این هم صدایی به جایی برسد. ما تا همین جا هم برنده ایم. مواظب خودتان و سلامتتان باشید. ما آرامش را پس می گیریم. مثل حق مان. مثل پرچممان. شاید بخندید. اما هنوز می گویم. اندکی صبر... سحر نزدیک است. من شش سال پژوهشگری کرده ام. می دانم کم است. اما باور کنید کافی است. ما حتی اگر سرکوبمان کنند زنجیری را شکسته ایم و آغوشی را یافته ایم.گفته بودم راضیم که جای انگشتم بر گلوی ابتذال بنشید و خسته اش کنم. چرا ناراضی باشم حالا که جای انگشتم بر پیشانیش رسوای عالمش کرده و نفسش را بریده ام. مرا می توان سرکوب کرد، اما کاری که کرده ام را نه. می ماند تا ابد. تا ایران هست. ما ممکن است بشکنیم، اما ممکن نیست سر خم کنیم یا خشونت کنیم. ما ایرانیم. پیگیر و نجیب و سبز و زخمی.فرجام

Thanksgiving 2008

2008-12-09T13:47:00.001-08:00

Last year I'd cooked my first turkey, and wished to celebrate the next year's with bigger family and more firends. This year half of my dreams came true. I was lucky enough to have my son and my mom beside my husband and I. Hopefully next year I will have more friends too :-)).

Hope you have had a wonderful thanksgiving day too.

my son, Cyrus

2008-11-16T18:46:00.000-08:00

My son decided that 36 weeks is a quiet long time, and didn't want to wait for the full term to be completed. Or he accidentaly poked the water-balloon, and it was too late to sit back and say "Oh, mom, I am very sorry...I didn't really mean it:-) Anyhow, he joined us on November 10th @ 1855, and we named him Cyrus (to be pronounced Seerous). The very same day, one of my best friends who is indian (I will tell you a story about her, and how she is my Didi Jan later) send us a note on what she had found about the name Cyrus. Here is what she wrote me:

"The name Cyrus is derived from either the Persian word "kurush," which may relate to the sun, or "kuru", which relates to throne. Cyrus the Great was the first Persian ruler;he conquered Babylon, and is known Biblically for releasing the Hebrews from their captivity there.Cyrus is the name of several saints.
BTW there is a KURU dynasty in Hindu mythology too. And they fought a great war in KURUSHETRA which means Land Of The Kurus...hmmm....go figure ..........."

-Anisha Verma

Got Wish?

2008-09-12T22:04:00.000-07:00

I still remember that scene from 10 years ago… I was sitting in the center of Paseo Noevo mall in Santa Barbra next to two small water fountains, having my lunch, listening to the jazz musicians (hired by the city to play music for the tourist.)
There I saw a grandmother giving her 3 or 4 year old grand daughter some pennies to toss into the water. After the little girl excitedly throw the coins … grandma asked, “What did you wish for dear?” She said “ I wished to become a million dolor ballerina”.

And as my grandma used to say “your wishes come true, so wish for some thing good.”
Now I think if our wish is to become an artist, we need to make sure we state the salary requirement too, like the smart little girl I saw. But in the event that we forgot to put the salary requirement on our wish, it helps to think of our wish as our ‘destination’, but not lose the sight of the journey…

20 fingers

2008-07-30T14:31:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, when Amir and I were browsing the Persian Movie section of the public library close to our home, I came across a movie made in Norway “20 Fingers”, claiming that it shows the uncensored sights of Iranian families. It was the winner of "Best Film Venezia 61" and so, I became very curious and we rented the movie.
Movie was dedicated to Abbas Kiarostami, and I think this pretty much tells a whole lot about the style of the movie.
The movie was made of 7 or 8 episodes, all made of close up videoing of one couple arguing about one topic at the time. Topics like virginity, having out-of-marriage relation, boyfriends/girlfriends jealousy; husband wants a kid while the wife disagrees, and etc.
At first we thought episodes are connected mainly because the very same two characters were playing them all, but when the movies ended, we guessed they were individual pieces (perhaps, I am not sure). Camera was very good, and I got a good feeling of the cast performance.
The point I got from the movie was that it wanted to show the limitations Iranian women are facing mainly from their male-partners, either boyfriend or husband.
But my main point is that as the movie claims to show some uncensored scene of Iranian family, it neither discussed any problem in detail, nor I found the conversations very intellectual to follow. The female sentences were so childish and hard to follow for me. Amir had the similar feeling about the guy.There were kind of talks you can hear here and there, but so what? I mean at the end we looked at each other like “What??”
I can say it was of those type of movies made solely to show our problems to the rest of the world, and to win a useless price. I didn't even get a single positive moment in the whole movie!!!!
It reminded me of an online movie about the problem of homosexuals in Iran. I can't remember the name of the movie, I watched it probably last year. It was made in Sweden I guess ( I am not sure). An astonishing movie talking about the facts, showing them clearly, suggesting some good ways to help them out. I Mean I am not against making movies that shows our problems, but I beleive there is a use in Art. If you are this lucky to get the tools, make a use of it.....

Khoshrow Shakibaei

2008-07-18T12:05:00.000-07:00

Our life is full of good and bad news. Yet, when there is a bad news, it hits us like it had never been once before.
This morning I started a very good and calm day. I was in a good mood, my miraculous baby started to move and it feels so amazing. The sun and sky were in the exact color to fulfill my enjoyment of life and happiness.
Then, suddenly I’ve heard in the radio that he is gone. “Hamid Hamoon” that I’ve learned the meaning of love with him is gone. How could he do that? Didn’t he know that he was the symbol of love for our generation? Didn’t he know that for us who grew up in war and terror, Love was the greatest gift given in his wandering around “Mahshid” and the philosophy of Love?
Well, since morning every single second that I close my eyes, the sights of Hamoon come and go to my memories. I am not sure how many times I’ve watched the movie, but I know I loved him eversince. His voice was so touching and I know I will miss him a lot.
May he rest in peace.

Thanks to Orkideh Behrouzan, I found this piece that I think is my life story.

2008-06-24T10:25:00.000-07:00

« بگذار يك لحظه پيرانه سخن بگويم: بچّه های مان خيلی خوب هستند؛ به خصوص كه در حد ممكن آزادانه رشد كرده اند _ و درست. من هرگز آرزويی جز اين نداشته ام كه آنها با هنر آشنا باشند؛ يعنی با عصاره ی اندوه و عصاره ی شادی. غم، با چگالی بسيار بالا، شادی با غلظتی غريب: هنر همين است: موسيقی، نقاشی، ادبيّات... و بچّه های ما، در سايه ی تو، با همه ی اين ها، آن قدر كه بايد آشنا شده اند.كسی كه سهراب را دوست داشته باشد، شاملو را احساس كند، فروغ را بستايد، و هر شعر خوب را آيه يی زمينی بپندارد، چنين كسی، به درستی زندگی خواهد كرد...كسی كه به كيارستمی شگفت زده نگاه كند، به زرّين كِلك با نهايت احترام، به صادقی با محبّت، و آثار مخملباف را دوست داشته باشد، چنين كسی به درستی زندگی خواهد كرد...كسی كه در برابر باخ، بتهون، موتزارت، فروتنانه سكوت اختيار كند، به تار جليل شهناز، عود نريمان، آواز شجريان و ترانه ی « اندك اندك » ِ شهرام ناظری عاشقانه گوش بسپارد، چنين كسی به درستی زندگی خواهد كرد...كسی كه مولوی را قدری بشناسد، حافظ را قدری بخواند، خيام را گهگاه زير لب زمزمه كند، و تك بيت های ناب ِ صائب را دوست بدارد، چنين كسی به درستی زندگی خواهد كرد...كسی كه زيبايی ِ نستعليق و شكسته، اندوه ِ مناجات سحری در ماه رمضان، عظمت ِ خوف انگيز ِ كاشيكاری های اصفهان، و اوج ِ زيبايی ِ طبيعت را در رودبارك احساس كرده باشد، چنين كسی به درستی زندگی خواهد كرد...شايد سخت، شايد دردمندانه، شايد در فشار؛ اما بدون شك به درستی زندگی خواهد كرد... »از چهلمین نامه نادر ابراهیمی

my haft-seen

2008-03-21T18:26:00.000-07:00

This post is to only for Nazy joon. Just to say thank you for asking how am I doing and wishing me good things.
You are so wonderful dear. I hope everybody's new year is full of happy events. Mine didn't start that well, but let's hope for the best.

no title

2008-02-07T17:34:00.000-08:00

یک جایی، اول یک قصه ای که بعضی ها خوانده اید نوشته ام ما نسل بی حماسه ایم. ما یعنی زاده های دهه پنجاه و یکی دو سال این طرف و آن طرف تر که بچگی مان به جنگ و انقلاب و خون گذشت و جوانیمان به سرمایه زدگی یک جامعه سنت زده ریا کار و خودخواه و بیمار. پیر بشویم نمی دانم چه شتری در خانه مان می خوابد. اما این بی حماسگی نسل من همه قصه نیست. ما جوان های نوجوانی نکرده، با شما که بزرگتر بودید و شما که کوچکترید یک فرق بزرگ داشتیم. ما نجیب ترین زادگان این خاک بودیم در روزگاری که گذشت. ما نه چریک شدیم، نه تشکیلات و حزب راه انداختیم، نه تفنگ دستمان گرفتیم روبروی سینه خودی یا غریبه، نه حرف نفهمیده گنده تر از دهانمان را در خیابان فریاد کشیدیم که حتی جرات نکردیم حرف دلمان را توی دفتری زیر بالشمان خط خطی کنیم، نه وسط خیابان عرق خوری کردیم و عربده کشیدیم، نه قرص اکس حب کردیم که فاز بگیریم و حال مردم را، از خدا ترسیدیم موقع گناه کردن، از معلم و ناظم حساب بردیم، به پدر و مادر هر چه کردند احترام گذاشتیم، از کنار گشت کمیته که رد می شدیم چشممان چسبیده بود به زمین، پایان با شکوه روزمان قصه شب رادیو بود و بزرگترین خلافمان چسباندنش به راه شب... یک ساعت کارتون در روز، یک فیلم سینمایی در هفته، چند دقیقه پخش فوتبال مرده که فردوسی پورش بهرام شفیع بود، یک ماهنامه ادبی در ماه و .... هر چه نداشتیم را می پذیرفتیم و هر چه داشتیم هرچند کم را بی شکایت و اعتراض می چشیدیم در سکوت. فقط یادتان بیاید آن چند دقیقه برنامه دیدنی ها را از گوشه و کنار جهان که چقدر منتظرش می نشستیم. ما را ترساندند و ترسیدیم، حتی از این که توی سرمان بزنند هم ترسیدیم و آهسته رفتیم و آمدیم که نزنند. اگر نجیب نبودیم، اگر ترس خورده نبودیم، اگر به هر چه بود قانع نبودیم دوم خرداد بزرگترین فرصت اجتماعی مان و امیدمان نمی شد که حتی همین را هم دریغمان کنند. ما انقلاب نکردیم، تغییر نخواستیم، راضی شدیم به اصلاحات که شکلش را هم ما تعیین نکرده بودیم. جرممان این بود که قبولش کردیم و بلندش کردیم. و حالا این آخر قصه جوانی ماست. اصلاحات به انرژی هسته ای ختم شد. نوعی از انرژی که با استفاده از آن زمستان بی گاز و بنزین و برق و نفت می مانید و خیال می کنید هنوز سردتان است. به زنده باد مخالف من ختم شد که مخالف من زنده بماند و دور را به دست بگیرد تا من را و اندیشه من را سلاخی کند. به گفتگوی تمدن ها ختم شد تا دنیا حساب ما و تمدن را از هم جدا کند.

When I felt sorry for myself

2008-02-04T14:58:00.000-08:00

Where I work, there are so many nice people. In between them, I can specifically name a Doctor who is the director of the Hepatology department.
Last month I had a problem with a swollen part on the left side of my stomach. I looked it up in the internet and got scared of what I found out. Not having a good primary physician around, I went to him and asked his idea. He examined it and said I shouldn’t worry but better show it to a physician.
Just few minutes ago, he stopped by my cubicle and asked about the problem. I smiled and said I didn’t get a chance to show it to a doctor. He showed some sort of faces like: Hey you girl,…. Then I was explaining I have few problems and is difficult to find a good doctor(s) for all of them at the same place.
While explaining about my heart problem, about my auto-immune disease, the recent surgery I had, about the DVT syndrome I developed while I was driving to San Francisco, and finally about the unbearable pain I have in my Neck& Shoulder, he just asked “Oh my GOD. How old are you”…I smiled and replied: 33 going to 34. He said, Oh, you are so young…….
Then I smiled more and said: Don’t worry. I have had many of this problems and complications since many years ago. Still I accomplished to study two masters degree while I was working part time in Tehran. I also finished my PH.D, and now not only I am working full time but also am teaching Part-time. Considering my long commute to work, I think I am taking the life at its most capacity. No?

For no reason...

2008-01-16T11:33:00.000-08:00

I was cleaning my files and came accross this poem. There is no special reason to post it, except that I like the poet (Ebtehaj) very much. It is also noteworthy that my favorite caligrapher, Javad bakhtiari, has a valuable collection of work only from his poems.....And I have that collection in Iran...You see the pattern? Poet...Poem..caligraphy... nostalgia?

كاروان))
ديرست ، گاليــــا ! درگوش من فسانه دلدادگي مخوان !ديگر ز من ترانه شوريدگي مخواه !ديرست ،گالـيــا !به ره افتاد كاروان .
عشق من و تو ؟...آه اين هم حكايتي ست ...اما ، در اين زمانه كه درمانده هر كسياز بهر نان شب،ديگر براي عشق و حكايت مجال نيست !
شاد و شكفته در شب تولدت تو بيست شمع خواهي افروخت تابناك،امشب هزار دختر همسال تو ، ولي خوابيده اند گرسنه و لخت ، روي خاك...
زيباست رقص و ناز سر انگشتهاي توبر پرده هاي ساز ،اما ، هزار دختر بافنده ، اين زمان با چرك و خون سر انگشتهايشان جان مي كنند در قفس تنگ كارگاه ...از بهر دستمزد حقيري كه بيش از آن پرتاب مي كني تو به دامان يك گدا !
وين فرش هفت رنگ كه پامال رقص توست از خون و زندگاني انسان گرفته رنگ ..در تار و پود هر خط و خالش : هزار رنجدر آب و رنگ هر گل و برگش : هزار ننگ ...
اينجا به خاك خفته هزار آرزوي پاك اينجا به باد رفته هزار آتش جوان دست هزار كودك شيرين و بي گناه چشم هزار دختر بيمار ناتوان ...
ديرست ، گالـيــا !!هنگام بوسه و غزل عاشقانه نيست هر چيز رنگ آتش و خون دارد اين زمان ..هنگامه رهايي لبها و دست هاست عصيان زندگي ست...
در روي من مخند !شيريني نگاه تو بر من حرام باد !بر من حرام باد ازين پس شراب و عشق !بر من حرام باد تپش هاي قلب شاد !
ياران من به بند :در دخمه هاي تيره و نمناك باغشاه ،در عزلت تب آور تبعيد گاه خارك ،در هر كنار و گوشه ي اين دوزخ سياه ...
زودست ، گاليــا !در گوش من فسانه دلدادگي مخوان !اكنون زمن ترانه ي شوريدگي مخواه !زودست ، گاليــا ! نرسيده ست كاروان ...
روزي كه بازوان بلورين صبحدم برداشت تيغ و پرده تاريك شب شكافت ،روزي كه آفتاب، از هر دريچه تافت ،روزي كه گونه و لب ياران همنبردرنگ نشاط و خنده گمگشته بازيافت ،من نيز باز خواهم گرديد آن زمان سوي ترانه ها و غزلها و بوسه ها ،سوي بهاران ، بهارهاي دل انگيز گل فشان ،سوي تو ، عشق من !!!...
هوشنگ ابتهاج ( اسفند 1331)

Clay in her hand

2007-12-28T09:50:00.000-08:00

I came across this video and really enjoyed it. I felt like sharing it would be joyful. Click on the title and watch.

Kite Runner & Benazir Bhutto

2007-12-27T15:35:00.000-08:00

Last night I got the chance to watch the Kite Runner. Our neighbor is in Film industry and had kindly invited us to watch the DVD at their home. Just imagine how wonderful it can be to watch an amazing movie, while you are being served an excellent three-dish menu adopted by their lovely daughter from the book.
The movie was excellent. The scenery, the scenario, the play, everything was amazing. I loved Sahib, Amir’s father, for his statements before war about mullahs and communists. I loved Hassan with the angle like smile on his face and his blind love for Amir and his family.
I cried so many times during the movie. And later, when our friend asked us about the authenticity of the scripts I couldn’t help myself not to scream: Oh yaa.

I know many Afghani. I knew some back in Iran, later in Vienna and finally in the US. The ones I met in Iran were mainly workers. However, I knew some of them are very educated and that Iran’s government would not offer them a relative job. I met a PhD in English Literature who was working in a construction area. He was able to fluently talk 3 languages beside Farsi and Pashto. When I was in Iran and would compare the Afghani in Iran to my own family or others in the US, I couldn’t believe after almost 20 years living there, they had nothing. Iran’s immigration policy didn’t recognize their right. And those Iranian readers of these lines would agree that we used to look at them as just Afghani. They didn’t have name, or identity. They were just Afghani.
Anyhow, I think with this film and with its amazing post-watching influence, I have a great hope that it attracts some attention to their loss during the last 30 years of different war and may even Afghanis unite better and don’t limit themselves with the tribal problems. And mainly with the hope that there will be no war anywhere.

P.S: This morning while I was getting ready to come to work, I have heard the assassination of Benazir Bhutto . I was in a state of confusion and disbelief for a second. And now after few hours I still cannot believe it.
The fact that most of the political parties in the Middle East is person dependent, and the leaders are not able to train successor(s) for themselves, makes them easy target for assassination. The opposite party also thinks by killing this leader the ideology will be terminated. And it goes on circle, on and on.
I knew Bhutto family because of Benazir’s grandmother was an Iranian, relative of one of my close family member. I have heard stories about them and somehow grew up following her and her family’s political life. It is hard to believe that this era of my life comes to a tragic and bloody end so soon.

This is my share of today :-)

2007-12-21T09:37:00.000-08:00

Just one click away from a deep enjoyment....................

A Thousand kisses deep

2007-12-18T14:18:00.000-08:00

Please first click here and listen to this, then click on the lyric below and enjoy a wonderful song :-)

"A Thousand Kisses Deep"
The ponies run,
the girls are young,
The odds are there to beat.
You win a while, and then it’s done –
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it’s real,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
I’m turning tricks,
I’m getting fixed,
I’m back on Boogie Street.
You lose your grip, and then you slip
Into the Masterpiece.
And maybe I had miles to drive,
And promises to keep:You ditch it all to stay alive,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
Confined to sex, we pressed against
The limits of the sea:I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
I made it to the forward deck.
I blessed our remnant fleet
–And then consented to be wrecked,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,I’m back on Boogie Street.
I guess they won’t exchange the gifts
That you were meant to keep.
And quiet is the thought of you,
The file on you complete,
Except what we forgot to do,A Thousand Kisses Deep.
And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.The ponies run, the girls are young, The odds are there to beat . . .

Today's poem

2007-12-18T09:17:00.000-08:00

صورتگر نقاش
صورتگر نقاشم هر لحظه بتی سازم،

وآنگه همه بتها را در پیش تو بگدازم.

صد نقش برانگیزم با روح در آمیزم؛

چون نقش تو را بینم، در آتشش اندازم.

تو ساقی خماری یا دشمن هشیاری،

یا آنکه کنی ویران هر خانه که برسازم؟

جان ریخته شد با تو، آمیخته شد با تو؛

چون بوی تو دارد جان،جان را، هله، بنوازم.

هر خون که زمن روید با خاک تو می گوید:"با مهر تو همرنگم، با عشق تو انبازم."

در خانه ی آب و گل، بی توست خراب این دل؛یا خانه درآ، ای جان! یا خانه بپردازم.
•

از کتاب "جان جان"، منتخباتی از دیوان شمس، رینولد. الن. نیکلسون، ترجمه حسن لاهوتی، تهران: نشر نامک، 1381

I didn't type it. I took it from here.

From Gheissar Aminpour

2007-12-13T17:46:00.000-08:00

دردهاى من جامه نيستند

تا زتن درآورم

چامه وچكامه» نيستند تا به رشته سخن درآورم«

نعره نيستند تا ز«ناى جان» برآورم

دردهاى من نگفتنى

دردهاى من نهفتنى است

دردهاى من گرچه مثل دردهاى مردم زمانه نيست

درد مردم زمانه است

مردمى كه چين پوستينشان

مردمى كه رنگ روى آستينشان

مردمى كه نام هايشان

جلد كهنه شناسنامه هايشان درد مى كند

Funeral of Forough Farokhzad

2007-12-06T07:43:00.000-08:00

I have said before that I have a special relation with Forough, and for a while all my friends and especially my cousin would ask me to read her poems, mainly because the tune of my voice was so similar to her voice, and the undeniable love that I had for her poems.

Today another cousin sent me this video. It is priceless. I though I might share it, in case you like this poet as well.
To see the Youtube video of her funeral click on title.

too late

2007-11-30T13:23:00.000-08:00

Some time ago, I pasted this piece of poem in my blog. It was so sad to read this morning that Jaleh Esfahani had passed away. May she rest in peace and be happy forever.

شاد بودن هنر است

شاد کردن هنری والاتر.

ليک هرگز نپسنديم به خويش،

که چو يک شکلک بی جان، شب و روز ،

بی خبر از همه ، خندان باشيم.

بی غمی عيب بزرگی ست،

!که دور از ما باد

The Tower of Babel 1563 (200 Kb); Oil on oak panel, 114 x 155 cm; Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien, Vienna

2007-11-27T13:55:00.000-08:00

Today I came across this painting, and it took me back to Vienna. I thought if I upload the painting here, it may help me not feeling so homesick for Wien :-))
The original painting is in the Museum of Art History in Vienna. Looking at this I can see it clearly on the right wall of the room.
The first time I saw the painting I thought: "Humm. I don't think the Babel Tower was right on the beach. If it was, there was no need to make a heaven like that. The whole idea of making this building was to make a heavenlike place for his wife.......". I still don't know. Is there anybody who knows if the Babel Tower was built right on the edge of a river or a sea?

A small turkey for a small family of two

2007-11-25T11:25:00.001-08:00

This year is not my first Thanksgiving in the US, but it is my first REAL one :-)

The fact that I was so grateful for our new home makes this day a very special day for me.

A small turkey for a small family of two, with a big hope that we get the chance to celebrate the coming thanksgivings with more friends and a bigger family.

Being lonely

2007-11-09T13:40:00.000-08:00

In the last couple of days I am living in that strange feeling of life. I am happy at home, everything is fine at work, my parents are here and are taking care of me. But something is missing inside.
Two nights ago when I was driving back home, in that bad traffic, I was thinking how badly I need to have a friend to talk to. It is very sad every time I go through my cell phone list I see no name that buzz......
The only regret I have from emmigation is the fact that I lost my friends. May be "lost" is not the right word. I am in regular contact with most of them. The point is that we are not that close anymore, and with this time difference I can't even call them when I want.
Tough life......................................!

Where are you from?

2007-11-06T10:46:00.000-08:00

Location: Las Vegas, in the elevator in front of the MGM
Time: 12:35 PM

An American guy came inside the elevator, joined my Mom and I. He listened to our conversation for 10 second and asked politely: May I ask where are you from?

Me: Iran

He: Where???

Me: IIIIran!!

He: Ahh, Iran.

Me: Yep.

He: Nice. Is it your first trip to the US?

Me: Oh no. I actually live in California. But you asked where am I coming from, this is why I said Iran.

He: you know, I have a friend who works cross the street (He points a place with his hand). He says he is Persian.

We are now out of the elevator

Me: Well, that is another version. I know there are people from Iran calling them Persian. The fact is that now on the map the name of my country is Iran, and I come from there. And I proudly say I am Iranian.

He (With a big smile on hie face): Here you go :-). That is the way it should be.

Me: Bye.

He: Enjoy your trip.

Me: Thanks.

Later when I was translating the conversation for my Mom, I mentioned that I have so many friends who have had hard time in Iran, and here they have been mistreated just because of where they are from. I understand why they would rather go with “Persian”, to more relate themselves with older Golden time of Iran, but I have been schooled in Iran. I have learned to love in Iran, the country gave me so much more than what I gave her. I do like to speak English and French, and tell people I have learned them back at home. I love it the way it is, I call it Iran, and I wish one day I don’t see anybody being ashamed of calling him/herself Iranian.

Why these things happen?

2007-09-23T18:44:00.000-07:00

It is Sunday afternoon. I am sitting in my living room, looking to the view we have to the Santa Monica Mountain. I really love this home. What amazes me the most is that this home is really old and needs lot of renovation work, nevertheless, I like it that much as this is a brand new home. It is just so relaxing and so peaceful. I guess the former families that used to live here, left a great positive energy in this home.
Just sitting here and thinking why not everybody can be this happy? It is now about 5 days that I got a bad news from a very dear friend of mine. She was so upset, and so sad to find out that her husband was not faithful to her. She said how she found out that he was in regular contacts with his former Fiancée. I ask her that it may be just a normal contact and she shouldn’t be worry. Especially because the other woman is living in another country. But she said they had a conversation sometime ago in this matter, and that she had expressed her feeling before. She said he promised to keep the communication at the lowest possible level, like just cards for Birthdays, and so…Now she found series of letters, ‘Happy Thanksgiving day’, ‘Happy Independence day’, ‘Thank you notes’, and above all there was a letter in which she see that he sent a post card to his former Fiancée right on the day that was his first anniversary with my friend. This really blew her off. She was just sick and crying all the time. I didn’t know what to tell her. Tried to comfort her little bit, but she was really really sick. She contacted a family therapist, but she didn’t help that much. Just said, Oh ya. These types of relations are not very well accepted in the marriage, and that she supposed to talk to her husband about it. But she was too upset to talk about it.
I keep thinking how is those men (This type of them, not all) keep the right for themselves to do so. How would he feel if he would find out that his wife is in contact with another man?
I really feel sorry for her, and am wondering how I can help her. What do you think?

Doostan man koja hastand?

2007-09-18T15:59:00.000-07:00

It is 3:33 PM. My mind is blocked.
On one side, I have been waiting for one person to e.mail me. Or better said “ I was hoping that that person e.mails me”. And the mail never came. So…I am feeling confused. My logic part is telling me: Who cares? Bad for that person who could make you happy by a small note, and didn’t”. My emotional part tells me: “You see. I told you hundred times. You are not important for him/her (Don’t wanna mention if it is a he or a she :-)……”
I don’t wanna listen to neither of them and am interested to focus on my work. However, it seems like I am not able to. I checked my Google account at least 100 times today. Useless, and depressing. I am pretty much so ready to cry out loud.

On the other hand, today I found one of my old friends of many years ago. A friend that I shared a lot with her. Then suddenly she left the country, without saying good bye. For some years, thinking about her would make me feel so stupid in friendship. Then I’ve learned to respect her decision. I came to the point to think she probably had her own reasons to do so. I told myself if I looked at her as a good friend of mine, it does not essentially means she was looking at me from the same angel.

And then suddenly I found her on LinkedIn…… She said:” Since I left Iran I was 100% focused on my life and future so I didn't have much time to catch up with friends and families”

It made me think of myself. My past and future are marching in my mind like a movie, and am not able to focus on anything.

I remember one night about 14 years ago, with another friend of mine we were staying over this friend' Dad’s home somewhere in Shomal’s Forests. It was late at night. She gave us her bed and herself was laying on the floor. Nice of her, no? It was so dark, no light what so ever. Queen was singing “OOOh mama””. So peaceful, so relaxing.
Then suddenly a blinding light filled the room. It was a blinding white light, turned gradually to violet and then Finished. For a moment I was not sure what had happened. It was actually my other friend who was laying right next to me on the bed, that in total dark took a photo from this one laying on the floor. Later, when we developed the photo (which happened to be a perfect photo, considering it was taken in dark), the peace in her face was something so amazing. I wish I had that photo with me. She was laying on the floor, eyes closed, one leg crossed on the other, whispering the song.

And I remember, in the last 11 years that I didn’t know where she is and what is she doing I often remembered her with that peaceful face, and every single time I whispered this poem of Sohrab for her: “Where are my friends? May their day be filled with orange scent (Doostan man koja hastand?? Rooz hayeshan porteghali bad)”

Good things, like Mint tea.....

2007-08-30T11:46:00.000-07:00

I am sitting here, with one cup of Mint tea. I like it British Style, with milk. It is so relaxing.
A housekeeper is cleaning my home today. That is such a relief. The home will shine and smells good when I return.
My parents are coming for visit. They will arrive on Saturday. This is better than anything else is. I have not seen them since I came to the US, it is about 2 years and 3 months…………….I can’t believe it.
Work is going well; all the assays that I have designed are launched and performing regularly. It is very good for my career. So, I am happy about them.
Since mid-summer I have been invited to teach in the College. It was as if one of my long lasted dreams was coming true. Then I was invited to continue teaching, this time Biology for Non-Majors in fall. Such a challenge it is for me. I really like it. Every day I wake up with so many good thoughts, and even though it is very time demanding and full of responsibility, I am very happy to do that.
And above all, in the new home we bought, I feel so great. It is kind of house that I would dream about it my whole life. Some nights, I walk in the back yard, especially in full moon, like a ghost and just thank God for giving me the life I have. It is such a great feeling to walk in owns home, feeling “we have accomplish it”. Amir and I bought the home, with no help from nobody. It was solely his and mine work, and thanks God, our work was fully rewarded. The home is lovely, the neighbors are lovely, and I feel so peaceful in the home.
Since 16 years ago, I have been living in 4 different cities from 6 months to 4 years. I never could feel as if I belong there. I always carried the sense of “I will move soon”. Now I am sitting here, with my cup of Mint tea, remembering the tough time of living lonely and having hard time ( and also good time) in all those years, and I can plan for next year, and the year after that, and years after that, as long as I am alive. I may have to leave the world soon (I hope not), but even so, I can do that easily.
There is this poem of my beloved Poet; Forough, “And here I am, a lonely woman, in the beginning of the cold season”. This is one of my most favorite poems. Now I just want to change it a little bit for my own, and say: “And here I am, a woman in the beginning of her 34th year, full of dreams and plans for future, and satisfied (somehow) with what she had done”.
I don’t want to forget that I owe a great thank to my parents who supported me mentally and financially as much as they could. I can’t ignore the fact that they sacrificed their hobbies and vacations to help me finance my expensive graduate school in Tehran. They helped me following my dreams.
I wish I could pass all the positive energy that I have now to those Iranian, especially Iranian girls and women, whom I read their weblogs and I feel as if they are a little bit down some time. I really wish there was a way in the internet to reach that person, say some few words, and share the sad moments. I know all of us are immigrants. We left the valuable part of memories and happiness of us back home. No matter how happy I feel here, I can’t stop myself thinking why am I so far from my families and friends. I think we all have the same lonely moments.
So, at the end, I wish you, who are reading this lines now, got a good sense of relaxation, believed in good and think of good things like Mint tea.

HOOORRRAAAYYYYYY

2007-06-15T11:30:00.000-07:00

Hooray!! Hooray!! Hoorraaaayyyy.......................
I have lots of good news. One after the other good things happened. And God knows how much we needed the good news. Amir and I were so tired of seeing bad people, and then we met some nice ones, and the whole life started smiling :-)) as we were.....
I need to write about them in Persian. So, till I get a chance to use my laptop at home, I wish you all the bests, and please when you visit here, don't forget to write me a couple of words. I love hearing from you here.

Love you all..

Die Slowly

2007-06-07T15:49:00.000-07:00

Die Slowly
by Pablo Neruda

He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak
and does not experience,
dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
dotting ones “is” rather than a bundle of emotions,
the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
that turn a yawn into a smile,
that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,
dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
die slowly.

He who does not travel,who does not read,
who does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself,
dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,
about the rain that never stops,
dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it,
who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know,
he or she who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know,
die slowly.

شنبه به روایت دانای کل

2007-05-18T17:17:00.000-07:00

This really touched me. So true. It is from here.
امروز شنبه است. بیرون باد می وزد . شهره در رادیو می خواند« دوماد چه شانس آوردی دل عروس رو بردی» چیزی حال زن را بد کرده است. یاد چیزی افتاده است. گریه پشت پلکهایش است. می دانم که خودش این را نخواهد نوشت . من برایش می نویسم. من دانای کل هستم٬ راوی این قصه. این قصه نیست. حرفهایی هست که او نمی نویسد. مرد مقاله علمی می خواند. روی مبل سفید. هر دو ساعت یکبار می گوید : عزیزم بیا من ببوسمت. مرد کم حرف است. زن فشار تنهایی را روی سیب گلویش حس می کند. زن چایی می خورد. فکر می کند. خوشبختم. خانه قشنگی دارم در آمریکا. همسرم دکترا می گیرد. خودم هم خواهم گرفت. خانه ام گرم است. الان دارم چای می خورم . من خوشبختم. پس چرا دلم می خواهد گریه کنم. مگر همین را نمی خواستم. چه چیزی را یا چه کسی را از خودم گرفته ام که حالا برایش می خواهم گریه کنم. همه این حرفها را زن با خودش می زند. دانای کل بودن کار مدرنی نیست. زن کلید را بر می دارد. می گوید که می رود صندوق پستی را ببیند. صندوق خالی است. زن به دربان سلام می کند. دربان سردش است. در را باز می کند. زن می گوید نه بیرون نمی روم. دربان در را می بندد. حرف نمی زند. زن دلش می خواهد با پسر دربان حرف بزند. زن کمی معطل می کند شاید آشنایی را ببیند. شاید بتواند با آشنا حرف بزند. کسی نمی آید. دکمه آسانسور را فشار می دهد. تا طبقه یازده به خودش فکر می کند. به دوستانش. به روزهای که زنگهای تلفن را نادیده می گرفت. و به این روزها که برای آنها که شماره را اشتباه گرفته اند هم توضیح می دهد تا بیشتر حرف بزند. خودش انتخاب کرده است. زندگی با سکوت را. زن می داند حق ندارد چیزی بگوید. خودش خواسته است که بیاید آمریکا و برود نیویورک تا دنیا را ببیند. خودش انتخاب کرده که با انسانی ساکت زندگی کند. زن می داند. زن دلش می خواهد گریه کند. ولی حتا من که دانای کل هستم نمی دانم چرا گریه نمی کند!

This is how I feel these days

2007-03-28T14:49:00.000-07:00

مرثیه ای برای سرزمین ام
این جا خانه من نیست.

قلب ام جای دیگری می تپد.

اگر هنوز بتپد

گاهی در بعد از ظهر های کوتاه زمستان فکر می کنم که هرگزهرگزاین اندازه دور نبوده

اما ز درد، فقر، ظلمو سیاهی

من در شهری با شیروانی های قرمز زندگی می کنم.

و گاهی که هوا ابری نباشدآسمانی آبی می بینم

آن قدر آبی که گاه به چشم های خودم شک می کنم.
اینجا در زمستان مردم لباس های فاخر می پوشند و به مجالس رقص می روند

در سرزمین من اماآدم ها گروهی می میرند

من هر شب خوابشان را می بینم

وهربار که تلفن زنگ می زند

بعدش خم می شوم و از روی زمین خرده ریزه های قلبم را جمع می کنم

هر بار گوش هایم آماده اند که بشنوند

چه کسی مرده است؟

کدام دوست ام طلاق گرفته؟

وکدام آشنای دور جان خویش را

و جنگ اگر بشود چه خواهد شد.
در سرزمین من رنج بی داد می کند

حماقت سر به آسمان می زند

سرزمین من دشت هایی وسیع،کوه هایی سر به فلک

چنارهایی پیرو کویری تفتیده دارد
من سرزمینم را دوست دارم

و نمی دانم

این باتلاقی که می بینم

و عده ای به آنجا نسبتش می دهندکابوس است

یا خوابی سبک
من حساب خنده هایی که روز به روزاز پشت سیم تلفن کمتر می شوند را دارم

دلم می خواهداز همان سیم تلفن و یا صفحه کامپیوتریکی یکی بیرون بکشمتان

و در آغوشتان بگیرم.

بعد دور هم بنشینیم چای بنوشیم و غم هایمان را مساوی تقسیم کنیم

.در بعد از ظهر کوتاه زمستانی.

This is from the weblog of Maryam Momeni. If you click on the title you will be directed to her page.

I was missing my family last night. I was so ready to fly with the first flight. Actually I hurt my foot and it was so painful the whole night. I was dying to have my father on my side to rub some ointment on it, like what he used to do when i was a little kid.

It is actually strange. Usually I don't feel homesick or so. May be I am too tired now. As the son of my friend says: I need a new battery.

How is it possible?

2007-03-27T15:29:00.000-07:00

I couldn't stop laughing. It is written that already about 40 millions of Iranian had traveled during the holidays. Until here everything looks right. But then it’s added that "by this estimation, it is expected that there will be 80 millions travelers by the end of holidays in Iran".
Based on the official sites, Iran’s population never exceeded 70 millions.
How old is the orange shop keeper?

Eid shoma mobarak

2007-03-19T18:27:00.000-07:00

Hello All. Here is the Nowrouz again. I hope you have a very happy Nowrouz and a very happy year.

Last year I set a table in my Boss' office for the Haftseen. All my coworkers loved it. They had started asking me about it since a month ago and it certainly motivated me to to set one Haftseen here again. This year I plan to make it prettier. will hopefully upload the photo.

Love you all,

EID HAMEGI MOBARAK

After a month, Yalda Partying

2007-01-09T15:51:00.000-08:00

Shirin was so nice to invite me for this play. I was actually reading many of the memoirs, but never thought of myself as a real blogger :-) and because no one (OK, almost no one) knows me on the web, didn’t think I may be asked to write something. Then when she nicely invited me, it took me a while to come up with something. Well, here are some things people don’t know about me:
1) Even though I am very talkative now, I didn’t talk until I was 3.5. Not even a word. Then suddenly one day I had started talking fluently. And… God bless me. I never stopped.
2) When I was 23, I was studying two masters of degree at the same time and was working full time as well. In addition, I was going to all the concerts in Tehran, and did not miss a chance for any theatre or any movie. I was partying with my friends all the time. Going to all the coffee shops and all the parks was in the usual plans as well. Once a very good friend of mine (at that time, now he doesn’t writes me any more!) told me that he is going to write a book about me and call it as: Stories of a girl who was very strange. Quite a while later, my cousin told me that he plans to make a movie about me and call it as “Stories of a girl who was very strange”. HEE Heee, I smiled and said "I’m sorry. The authorship of this subject is already sold".

To be honest, that period was the happiest time of my life. I used to think I would change the world. I will adopt many children and will do not but goods.
3) This is again very much related to no#1. I have a great public relation and almost no one really know that I am rather very shy :-) I really tried hard to learn how to overcome my shyness. So now my weapon is to show a happy smily face to every body. Still, in some gathering when there are many people, I have to really try hard to get along. It seems that I am doing it very well, as usually people believe I am naturally like this.
4) I decided to become a geneticist and work at Institute Pasteur to design Vaccine for poor people, when I was only 12. I followed the dream, until after the college when I was planning for the Graduate school; I suddenly decided to continue my higher education in Literature. “Old languages of Persia” was the subject. But my Mom didn’t let me and said for these many years you worked toward your dream and you can’t abandon it now. So, I continued in Genetics, worked at Pasteur Institute (in Iran), and studied new systems for vaccine delivery. Now, I am 32 and I made my dream "come true". But still deep in my heart, I am looking for any opportunity to pursue a degree in Persian literature or History. There is where my heart belongs to, too.
5) The hardest period of my life was when I was waiting to get the permission to work in the US. One of those days, where I was so fed up and tired, I got a mail from a very old friend of mine. She said she was googling me to find my address and write me. It was such a bright moment and I started googling myself :-)) as I couldn’t find much, I decided to make a blog to be visible on the net. And it is how “Chakameh on the web” was born. Unfortunately, I was not very persistent in writing. Probably because I didn’t give my web-address to anyone or may be because I am waiting to be discovered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here I was. Shirin Joon. Thanks again for inviting me. Now on my turn to invite someone, I shall say the few blogger that I know already wrote something. But I truely invite whoever read this blog to write couple of sentences in here about her/himself.

Something so smooth and so touchy from Jerom Murat

2006-11-30T11:41:00.000-08:00

Here I saw this link, it was so beutiful. I thought I might share it with you.

This time for Faramarz Aslani's and more for IRAN's lovers

2006-11-27T10:42:00.000-08:00

I personally am a big fan of Faramarz Aslani. However, this song is probably my most favorite, and as I saw in his concert, it is the most favorite of many others.
Whoever made this beautiful clip of Iran with this song, made a great masterpiece. I hope you enjoy it too. (Click on the title to see)

Another poem from an unknown poet!

2006-11-06T17:40:00.000-08:00

گفتمش: دل ميخری؟ پرسيد: چند؟
گفتمش: دل مال تو تنها بخند
خنده کرد و دل ز دستانم ربود ٬ تا بخود باز آمدم او رفته بود
دل ز دستش روی خاک افتاده بود٬ جای پايش روی دل جا مانده بود...

A poem from Assieh Amini

2006-10-28T10:41:00.000-07:00

روياهاي زني سي‌ساله را مي‌نويسم

كه روزها پيراهن گشاد تنهايي‌اش را مي‌پوشدو مي‌رقصد

با ترانه‌اي كه خود سروده است.

و شب‌ها كوك مي‌زند سوراخ‌هاي ستاره راروي دامن شب

تا مگررفو شودشكاف عميقي كه بين او و روياهاي همين ده سال پيش افتاده است.

If you click on the title, you can read it all.

A neutral life

2006-10-17T11:43:00.000-07:00

In Southern California, weather is always good!!
This is the most neutral sentence that you can think of it, and yet it is so true.
It doesn’t matter if someone is losing a life somewhere else in the world due to the war or earthquake, it doesn’t matter if Anousheh went to space and came back. Nothing really matters.
Here whenever you see anyone anywhere, the first and the last thing you hear is “isn’t it such a nice weather? ”.

Something I would write if I had a little bit more time!

2006-10-13T14:17:00.000-07:00

Click on the title and read a bralliant note about Helen CLaire. I saw the old movie when I was very young and eversince it was one of my favorite stories. This is still a very touching moment for me when I read about her or see people are talking about her.

Chakameh as Chakameh, not as me!

2006-10-11T17:37:00.000-07:00

This is one of the most beautiful occasion that I've heard my name in a text.
There is something in my heart that tied itself up so tight with what she writes. Like what it was in the Jane Eir, when Mr. Rochester told Jane that he feels tight ties in his left side down his heart......
Oh, I wish I could write in Persian.

OK, I think the URL doesn't work, I paste the text here.

در من شعله اي بود كه ديگر نيست. بارقه اي, آييژكي.چيزي از جنس نور كه ديگر نيست. نيست كه روشن كند واژه را و واژه روشن كند چكامه را و چكامه گريزپاره هاي عاشقانه را و من ر ا و تو را...نيست. نيست و من خانه به خانه, لكه به لكه, گياه به گياه و در به در مي گردم تا پيدايش كنم. باز ستانمش. وارهانمش. نيست. ديگر نيست. به سايه ها پيوسته و در تاريكي ها خفته است. در من چيزي بود كه ديگر نيست.حالا خاموش است. اين تلخي ته نشين شدهُ ماسيدهُ ماندهُ كهنه بر جانم نشسته و خاموشم كرده است.خاموشي تلخ. تلخي خاموش.كژدمي بر پوست تنم مي خزد. نيش مي زند و از تلخي من برخود مي لرزد. رنگ مي بازد. جان مي دهد.همين.

Mary Hopkins' Those were the days

2006-10-07T17:58:00.000-07:00

Those were the days

How many of you have similar memories?

A poem from I don't know whom :-)

2006-10-06T16:46:00.000-07:00

ما برای پرسيدن نام گلی ناشناس
چه سفرها کرده‌ايم
چه سفرها کرده‌ايم
ما برای بوسيدن خاک سر قله‌ها
چه خطرها کرده‌ايم
چه خطرها کرده‌ايم
ما برای آنکه ايران گوهری تابان شود
خون دلها خورده ايم
خون دلها خورده ايم
ما برای جاودان ماندن اين عشق پاک
رنج دوران برده ايم
رنج دوران برده ايم

If you know the poet please tell me :-)

Las Vegas

2006-10-05T17:25:00.000-07:00

Last week we went to Las Vegas, or as Amir calls it Sin City. This was my second visit to Las Vegas. Last time was exactly 2 years ago, when I came from Vienna to visit Amir for 3 weeks, and we drove there to see one of his friends.
My first reaction to the city was that I felt I am Pinoccio in the Amusement Park. Where he had changed to donkey. I am not kidding. Everything was HUGE, and FAKE. Big buildings were copies of Paris, Venice, Rome, ro like Eatern / Arabic palaces (Aladin) and me, just coming from Europe was so mad and didn't like it at all.
In addition, I hate gambling. I never realize how people spend their money in the Slot Machines.
Anyhow, 2 months ago I won “another” radio contest and the prize was 4 nights at Las Vegas. So, we HAD to go there :-)

Amazingly, this time I enjoyed it. There are so many things besides gambling that one can do there. There are many shows, and many concerts one can go, and so many Gourmet Kitchens. We visited one of Cirque du Soleil show, and got a Gondola Ride, had some very good foods. There were few things that if they hadn’t happened, I would say I had a very good trip, but oh Well, Life is not fair. Is it?

Manouchehr Atashi

2006-09-26T13:31:00.000-07:00

I found this about Atashi. The poem is one of my favorites.

It is funny though. I found the Aryaneviss and I really wanna write in Persian, but it is like I never find the time for that.

Probably when I write in Persian, my happy side will rise. When I write in English, it is the serious Chakameh who is talking, while personally I am very happy and always try to make a happy environment wherever I am.

We'll see.

Jacques Brel - Ne Me Quitte Pas

2006-09-21T17:51:00.000-07:00

Just click, listen and enjoy. This is one me favorite songs.
By the way there is this website that I found the music in, which is a very interesting blog. One of those "to be remembered".

2006-09-18T17:20:00.000-07:00

It is a while since my last post. Not that anyone is waiting for me to write anything. It is just a sign for myself to see how far I am standing from the normal life. Days come and go so fast. Unbelievable. I feel like we are just living it. Amir and I really try hard to keep it up, but Oh well.
We have been in San Diego two weeks ago and I wanted to talk about it. I met very nice people and there were so many things to write, but now I don’t feel like it any more.
Then later that week I wanted to prepare a short paper about the benefits of Biotechnology-related Seminars in Iran. I gathered some information through the web and prepare the preliminary draft. Then I thought it is good to write an e.mail to my friends and co-workers (Ex-co workers) who live in different parts of the world and ask what they think. This way I would include their point of views in my paper. Believe it or not, I wrote to more than 50 person and got answers from 2.
One was from my former Professor in Iran, that I really appreciate his answer. I actually appreciate the time he spent to write me. The other was from another professor that I met just once in Belgium, Sep 2000.

This made me believe why we never go ahead in Iran. Level of collaboration is ZERO.

Well, I never finished that paper, mainly because I got sick that week and I was too busy catching up with my 12 hour work / day. But nevertheless even now when I think about not being responded from those that I consider as “friend” makes me feel so sorry for myself.

Aryaneviss

2006-08-21T16:15:00.000-07:00

حالا یک آریانویس پیدا کردم :-)) و میتونم به فارسی بنویسم

Click on the title if you wanna see it. Good Luck.

A nice piece of peom

2006-08-17T16:23:00.000-07:00

شاد بودن هنر است
شاد کردن هنری والاتر.
ليک هرگز نپسنديم به خويش،
که چو يک شکلک بی جان، شب و روز ،
بی خبر از همه ، خندان باشيم.
بی غمی عيب بزرگی ست،که دور از ما باد !

A little piece of truth

2006-08-11T10:30:00.000-07:00

Last week I was talking about conflicts of war. It is nice to see there are still some people in the world who are not affraid of talking loud. I enjoyed the point of view. Let me know how do you think!

My good memories and the recent bad news

2006-08-09T16:39:00.000-07:00

In a very nice neighborhood in Tehran, Shemiran, there is a home in which I have lots of good memories. This home is located in between lots of high-raised buildings that once upon a time were nice gardens as well.
Of the very first thing I remember is when I was about 5-6 years old and my older sister and other kids of family were playing Hide and Seek. It was a very nice night in Tehran. Parents were sitting in the garden and kids were hiding themselves every where, from pool to the dog-house. I was so little, but nevertheless they were nice enough to take me in their play.
Days were gone and my memories continue, we grew up. Most of those kids left the country and grandparents were alone in that big garden. As long as I was in Iran, I tried to be polite enough to go there once in a while and spend time with them. These visits became a routine and I was so honored to spend my time in that garden. The grandfather is a gentleman and is one of those very highly respected individuals I had ever seen. Of my most favorites in Tehran were those Friday afternoons in his rich and old library that I was granted with reading all I wanted. As a result I dedicated my first book that I translated to him.
My last visit was last year, when I went there with my fiancé right before our wedding and we were blessed by their good wishes and a very nice and old necklace (an antique from the Qajar time) as wedding gift. I kept my contacts by calling them frequently as they were my real grandparents. Last Monday when I called them to say Happy Ali-Mola’s day, I was so shocked to hear the lady’s broken voice. I could hardly realize what she was trying to tell me. But news was short and clear. There was no need for long sentences.
One night around 5 weeks ago someone tried to break in through the gentleman’s window. The housekeeper and his young wife saw the thief and started to scream to get help, the thief fired back and killed the wife of the housekeeper who was 5 months pregnant. The couple had a 4 years old daughter.
What can I add? I can’s count the number of people who are affected by this action, I don’t know if they got the murderer, and I don’t know who is going to take care of that little girl as wells as my old fellow, etc...This is not the first case in its kind and surely not the last one. This is just something that I feel so personally.
I truly believe Tehran needs immediate attention. The attention needs to be something, anything rather than the yellow cake.

War

2006-08-02T15:33:00.000-07:00

War brings me the memories of losing my classmates in bombardments, losing my father’s friends so-called uncles who were first ranked pilots, somewhere that nobody even knows where their bodies are.
War reminds me of those days of terror and uncertainty.
Children of war are the same. War is the only thing,which does not recognize religion, age, race... It recognizes nothing. War just takes away what you have. What everyone has.
Lebanon is in war. See the video and sign the petition if you like.

Pacific Coast Highway

2006-07-25T16:20:00.000-07:00

Every day at least few times I hear people ask me “how do you feel NOW about your commute to work”.
Well, you know, I had started to work here about 7 months ago. My work is pretty far from where I live. There is a long way of 56 miles (one way) to drive to work and in a normal day it takes me 1,5 hour to get here and almost the same to go back home. For a Morning-person like me, it is hard to start work at 9:30 and I loose a very big amount of time.
But, what those people don’t know is the magic of Pacific Coast Highway. PCH is a narrow road by Pacific Ocean. It goes from South Los Angeles to somewhere close to San Francisco.
The first time I was driving in it, I was totally lost in the curves and the view. There were some curves that my whole body wanted to be eye and look at the ocean, but my brain was telling me “look straight”, look straight”… It is a great scenery road. I think I am very lucky that I have to drive through PCH.
The ocean is so beautiful. It is like a live creature that changes every day. It is color is so amazing. Especially in the morning when the sun is rising, it is like it shines as gold, dark blue, light green and even some kind of bright gray. Even in foggy days it is so beautiful.
Last week, driving to work I saw someone was canoeing right by Getty Village shore and two dolphins were swimming along his canoe.
So, dolphins and the magic of PCH doesn’t let me getting tired and I am so thankful

American life!

2006-07-24T17:30:00.000-07:00

Read this if you can read Persian.

How long does it take for you?

2006-07-24T13:32:00.000-07:00

I read a post on a friend’s site, in which he was saying that it took him 3 years to be a person, whom he would make fun of some years ago.
Such an amazing similarity. I feel the same way.
To be more honest, I shall say it took me 14 years to become a person that I like. I grew up somewhere in which, Do and Don't were (and still are) more than “why” and “how”. There were many rules that I couldn't find any logic in them. I sworn to myself as a 10 years old kid to never fall in one of these ordinary frames and to make my own open frame. So I left home when I was 16,5 and I thank my parents for being fully understanding and very supportive.
While I was living alone for the last 14 years, I tried to see how other people live, first around my country and then around the world. I tried to see the “goods” and the “bads” and set my own Do and Don't. Meeting people with different backgrounds, different religions and different cultures gave me a wide perspective of the world in which we are living. I found out that a smile can open any door. I found out that it's ones own hard work which is going to be appreciated and I realized its me and only me who can benefit of my efforts. I didn’t ask anyone’s help and tried to help as much as I could. I’ve learn to say Thank you, in answer to a Thank you. I tasted many different cuisine and learned to remember that my country is of those unique places in which you can share an Omelets with 10 crazy people and enjoy it soooooooooo much.
I got to know many many nice people around the world who recognized me for my help and sympathy. So many nice people that I can't count them. I also saw someones, who despite seeing the truth right in front of their eyes, insisted to stay blind-folded. (Thanks God there were not many of them)
But It is true. I believe it. It took me 1 year in the USA to transform to a person, whom I don’t like. Here I’ve learn to hear “Uhhuunnn” in respond to Thank you and I’ve learned that the friendship is based on the type car you are driving.
And I can’t forget that my country is that far that I sometime forget where am I standing. This feeling is worst when you live in Los Angeles, and work close to a Persian neighborhood in which they all speak Persian, and they all talk about how they all live in the dream of living in Iran, but then you know they no longer know what Iran really is.
Is this the US-cultural system, the Iran-nostalgia, or not having a real friend or something else, I still didn’t figure out!
If you have any idea, let me know :-) I do like to transform back!

Who am I :-))

2006-07-21T11:05:00.000-07:00

I am not a big fan of taking personality tests, but recently I engaged more in this. It is helping me know myself better. The new tests didn't change what I used to think I am, it was good for my own sake though :-)
So here is the result of my test, I also encourage you to take it when yoy have some minutes. It is a nice test, very flexible in the answers, which was great for someone like me. I never liked those test who have solid answers. I am full of contrasts and like different things at the same time, and this test let me locate myself in a two-dimensional chart. Well, if you are interested, just click here for your own test :-)

A website that I really like

2006-07-20T15:35:00.000-07:00

Deep down, underneath the face of a research scientist who had lived alone for 15 years, traveled around the world and is an example of an independent and strong girl for all who know her, there is a little kid who still get excited of every little thing, get upset of every little thing and cry easily for every little thing.
But even so, nothing could make her as emotional as this writing did. I am not sure if I am happy to find Lost Dreams or sad, the only thing I know is that I really like it.

who you are?

2006-07-19T16:13:00.000-07:00

I tried this test and it is pretty good.

no title

2006-07-14T17:14:00.000-07:00

آدمی پرنده نيست

تا به هر کران که پرکشد، برای او وطن شود

سرنوشت برگ دارد آدمی

برگ‌، وقتی از بلند شاخه‌اش جدا شود

پايمال عابران کوچه‌ها شود

This poem is from another Afghan poet, Ghorbanali Tabesh. There is a nice articel about him in BBC.

for Faramarz Aslani-lovers

2006-07-13T11:09:00.000-07:00

Here is what I'd found from Faramarz Aslani. I won a Ticket for his concert last month in a radio contest. Being in his concert was such an unbelievable moment for Amir and I. The concert was in a club named Red Square in Woodland Hills, LA, starting at 10:00 PM to 2:00 AM. The very same day we were coming back from a three-day trip to San Diego. But nothing, not even the fatigue of this travel could prevent us to go there that late. The only thing I can say is that we seriously made a smart choice. He was amazing. During the concert, every single moment I was reminding myself that such a wonderful time I am having. I can’t describe it. I was standing there, one meter away from him, in the crowd and everybody was singing his songs. Different people, different ages, an old lady on the wheelchair, middle aged couples, young couples, and so many friends were united there to sing “Ageh yek rouz beri safar”. Oh, even talking about it make me feel like it was just a dream. Amir has couple of photos in his website Amir's Album: The only tape.
Recently I think more and more about the Iran’s revolution and its impact on the middle class back in Iran. Most of us lost the golden years of our life surviving, finding our faith again and most of the people I know, were obliged to emigrate, voluntarily or involuntarily. I think here, in Los Angeles due to the high ranked population of Persian people, my nostalgic feeling is growing.
It is like LA is a mini-Tehran, or as they call it Tehran-jeles. Persian community had established itself as a very successful community and that made me regret what we could do in Iran. Most of the people I see here, are living here, are working, are successful, they are happy, but are missing home. Not that there is anything back there for them, it just doesn’t feel right.
This home is beautiful,
But it is not my home
This land is pretty
But it is not motherland.

[In Persian:
In khaneh ghashang ast vali khaneh man nist
In khak fariba’st, vali khak vatan nist.]

It is funny. Where did Faramarz take me? I hope you enjoy listening to his songs.

Food Coma :-)

2006-06-30T15:24:00.000-07:00

This post is a kind of personal, but I had such a busy week that I can't help myself not to talk about it.
We were waiting for 2 visitors from Albany, NY, last Wednesday, that we realized they can't make it. Yestrerday then, we tried to meet them in the airport, as this would be our last chance. Guess what? The plane was delayed for two hours and we couldn't stay longer.
AND, finally today I had a chance to have lunch with them. Only this time, four more people were there, it was so hot in L.A., and I had that much persian food (Kabab Barg va Kabab koobideh with salad) that I can't even think of working now.
Well, the good thing is that we are going to see Horseback riding race this afternoon and I am all excited about it.

2006-06-27T11:26:00.000-07:00

It is 11:22 and I am at NGI. Being tired of Real-time PCRs and calculations, I have decided to give myself a break and drop some lines for my brain sake.
Today when I arrived here , there was a red T-shirt with the world-cup logo, a gift from Jeff, which made me super energetic. It was good enough to compensate the fog and bad weather and sure enough to give me more energy for the rest of my week.
I am still wondering who will read my notes?
Almost every day I look in the internet for my older friend and try to write them when I find them and I am wondering will any of my friends search for me on the web? Some years ago, a very nice and old friend of mine from the Beheshtaein High School found my e.mail address and wrote me. Oh, such an amazing moment it was. I was in Vienna and when I got that mail it was like the whole world smiled at me.
I wish all my friends are doing well, anywhere they are and whatever they're doing :-**

Iran

2006-06-16T16:18:00.000-07:00

Illusion :-))

2006-06-15T11:54:00.000-07:00

Click on the link above, and just stare at the black dot for 30 seconds. Then, without moving your eyes, move the mouse over the image.It will look like it's in color until you move your eyes!!!

Chakameh in San Diego, October 2005

2006-06-12T17:32:00.000-07:00

We were in San Diego. I was happy, as I just had an interview with a very high ranked professor in UCSF, Dr. Parson for a postdoctorate job offer and I have been accepted immediately. I was so honored to be appreciated and to see there are people who grant my work and my knowledge. It was great. After the interview, Amir and I went to Balboa park, ran to a nice Belgian couple, chat with them in French and had some coffee afterward just two of us. Like the newly weds :O
It was such a happy day. Here is right in front of my friend's home, where she kindly hosted us.
I think the happiness in my eyes is undeniable :-)

FARAMARZ ASSEF

2006-06-09T13:44:00.000-07:00

I love this song. Since this morning that I found it, had listened to it several times. Such a good memoires it brought me :-)

جه خبر از اون آدم های بی نشون که نیمه شبها واسه دلشون توی کوجه های شهر می خوندن "رعنا، تو کجایی؟ رعنا، جه بلایی! "تو عالم مستی بغض رو می شکوندن و قصه بهار رو می خوندن "رعنا، های های! رعنا، آخ، گل مایی! رعنا! "تسکین دلم باش ای ماه! تو که توی دل من جا داری! من آیینه بیدارم، تو سایه روشن این بیداری حرفی بزن ای سنگ صبور، که تیرگی رو ازم بر داری حالا من هم اینجا واسه دل تنگم توی کوچه های شهر می خونم یه گوشه دنیا یاد تو هستم و مثل شمع نیمه جون می مونم یا بار سفر را بر دار، یا که بی تو بی نشون می مونم جه خبر از اون آدم های بی نشون که نیمه شبها واسه دلشون توی کوجه های شهر می خوندن "رعنا، تو کجایی؟ رعنا، آخ سیاهی! "تو عالم مستی بغض رو می شکوندن و قصه بهار رو می خوندن "رعنا، های های! رعنا، آخ، گل مایی! رعنا! "من از تو جدا بودم من بودم و ما بودم ای مونس دل تنهای من اشک شد، فغان شد تو شب های مثل یلدای من ای کاش خبری داشتی ای کاش سخنی داشتی ای مونس دل تنهای من اشک شد، فغان شد تو شب های مثل یلدای من کاشکی بی خبر یه روزی برام جاده ها رو پشت سر می گذاشتی عقده م رو از دلم بر می داشتی جه خبر از اون آدم های بی نشون که نیمه شبها واسه دلشون توی کوجه های شهر می خوندن "رعنا، تو کجایی؟ رعنا، جه بلایی! "تو عالم مستی بغض رو می شکوندن و قصه بهار رو می خوندن "رعنا، های های! رعنا، آخ، گل مایی! رعنا"!

lonely women

2006-06-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

زنان تنها
زنان تنها از تاريکی نمی ترسند. آنها زمانی را به ياد می آورند که مادر و پدر شبها قبل از خواب چراغ را برای دخترشان يکی دو بار خاموش و روشن می کردند و می گفتند در تاريکی هم همان چيزهايی هست که در روشنايی.

زنان تنها به خودشان می گويند در تاريکی هم همان چيزهايی هست که در روشنايی و اينطور است که اصلا از تاريکی نمی ترسند.

زنان تنها وقتی نيمه های شب از خواب می پرند، کسی را کنارشان ندارند که به آنها بگويد چيزی نيست، خواب بد ديده ای. آنها خودشان به خودشان ياد آوری می کنند که چيزی نيست و خواب بد ديده اند. در چنين مواقعی، با اينکه از تاريکی نمی ترسند اما ترجيح می دهند در رختخواب بمانند و زير پتو بخزند.

به ندرت اتفاق می افتد که از جا بلند شوند، چراغ را روشن کنند، دور خانه چرخی بزنند و يا کمی آب بنوشند.

زنان تنها تقويم های بزرگی دارند. آنها در تقويم هايشان فهرستی از کارهای مهم آن روز يا هفته تهيه می کنند. بعضی ها اين کار را قبل از خواب، و بعضی ديگر آن را نزديک وقت نهار انجام می دهند.

تقويم برای زنی تنها چيزی فراتر از يک تقويم است ... چيزی است در رديف همکار، هم بازی.

زنان تنها بعضی روزها هوس می کنند درست و حسابی آشپزی کنند. با اينکه خورنده ای غير از خودشان وجود ندارد، غذايی لذيذ وپر دردسر انتخاب می کنند و با تمام وجود تلاش می کنند که طعم آن غذا مانند آنی بشود که مادر و مادربزرگشان می پزد.

در حين پخت و پز بارها غذا را می چشند و مدام به آن ور می روند. پس از حاضر شدن، آن را بی تشريفات برای خودشان سرو می کنند و حين خوردن خاطرات قديم را در ذهن دوره می کنند.

برای زنان تنها پختن اين جور غداها کاری فراتر از آشپزی ساده است، کاری است در رديف خلق اثری هنری و جاودان.

زنان تنها زير دوش احساس خوشبختی می کنند. سقوط آب گرم روی موها و تن به آنها حس زنده بودن می دهد، زنده بودن، لمس شدن، دوست داشته شدن.

آب مهربان است. آب نزديک است. آب در آغوش می گيرد، گرما می دهد و قضاوت نمی کند.

زنان تنها به آب مانند مادربزرگی پير و دوست داشتنی نياز دارند و احترام می گذارند.

زنان تنها موقع خشک کردن موها، بی دليل از برخورد باد داغ با سر و صورتشان خنده شان می گيرد.

در آينه برای خودشان ادا و شکلک در می آورند، اگر وقت داشته باشند شانه را مثل ميکروفن جلوی دهن می گيرند و با آهنگی که از راديو پخش می شود هم صدا می شوند.

در زندگی زنان تنها، راديو نقش يک هم خانه،نقش يک همکلام را دارد.

زنان تنها پيش از شروع فصل سرما برای خود سوپ می پزند. آن را در چندين ظرف پلاستيکی می ريزند و در فريزر قرار می دهند. وقت مريضی از خودشان خوب مراقب می کنند.

آنها می دانند که اگر زود خوب نشوند کسی نيست که فهرست کارهای يادداشت شده درتقويم را سر و سامان دهد.

زنان تنها، هر از چند گاهی در تنهايی بر تنهايی خويش گريه می - کنند. پيش خودشان از زندگی و زندگان شکايت می کنند. از روزگارکه آنها را به تنهايی رانده است، از آدمهايی که اصلا مثل آب نيستند.

آنها اعتراف می کنند که از تنهايی خسته اند، که می ترسند برای هميشه تنها بمانند، آنقدر تنها بخوابند و بيدار بشوند و کار کنند وبخندند و گريه کنند و مريض شوند، تا يک روز بالاخره تنها بميرند.

آنها شبی را در همين فکرها و ترس ها و اشک ها سپری می کنند اما ...زنان تنها از تاريکی نمی ترسند.

هر چقدر هم که با ترس تا ابد تنها ماندن دست به گريبان بشوند، هيچ وقت در آن غرق نمی شوند.

زنان تنها صبح روز بعد وقتی که از خواب بيدار شدند، خود را در آينه نگاه می کنند و بعد لبخند زيبايی روی لبهايشان نقش می بندد.

با راديو هم آواز می شوند و در نوشيدن يک ليوان چای داغ و شيرين لذتی عميق کشف می کنند.

تقويمشان را زير بغل می زنند، از خانه و راديو خداحافظی می کنند و شيرجه می زنند در جريان زندگی، تا با همه نيرو از همين تنهايی هم، بهترينی را که می توانند خلق کنند.

زنده باد تمامی زنان تنهای تقويم به دستی که از زندگی سرشارند، قبل از شروع فصل سرما برای خود سوپ می پزند و هيچ از تاريکی نمی ترسند.

a nice quote

2006-06-09T11:53:00.000-07:00

In the part of this universe that we know there is great injustice, and often the good suffer, and often the wicked prosper, and one hardly knows which of those is the more annoying. - Bertrand Russell

Leonard Cohen

2006-06-06T12:24:00.000-07:00

I've heard this song on 1999 and it became one my favourite songs (to listen simply click on the link above).

LEONARD COHEN
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of loveDance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above
Dance me to the end of loveDance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

I will say another hello to the sun

2006-06-05T15:51:00.000-07:00

Forough is my favorite poet. When I was younger all my friends used to tell me that I sound so much like her when i read her poems. In fact looking at her biography I feel so much that I am like her.
I found this site and this poem read by herself, I hope you enjoy it as much I did.

I am waiting fot them to win, so badly...

2006-06-05T15:42:00.000-07:00

I am waiting for the worldcup so badly, and I hope we make it to the second run, even if not to the Quarterfinal.

I am crossing my finger for them :-))

a new poem

2006-06-02T16:02:00.000-07:00

نان را از من بگیر اگر می‌خواهی
هوا را از من بگیر، اما
خنده‌ات را نه.

گل سرخ را از من بگیر
سوسنی را که می‌کاری،
آبی را که به ناگاه
در شادی تو سرریز می‌کند،
موجی ناگهانی از نقره را
که در تو می‌زاید.

از پس نبردی سخت باز می‌گردم
با چشمانی خسته
که دنیا را دیده است
بی‌هیچ دگرگونی،
اما خنده‌ات که رها می‌شود
و پروازکنان در آسمان مرا می‌جوید
تمامی درهای زندگی را
به رویم می‌گشاید.

عشق من، خنده تو
در تاریک‌ترین لحظه‌ها می‌شکفد
و اگر دیدی، به ناگاه
خون من بر سنگفرش خیابان جاری‌ست،
بخند، زیرا خنده تو
برای دستان من
شمشیری است آخته.

خنده تو، در پاییز
در کناره دریا
موج کف آلوده‌اش را
باید برفرازد،
و در بهاران، عشق من،
خنده‌ات را می‌خواهم
چون گلی که در انتظارش بودم،
گل آبی، گل سرخ
کشورم مرا می‌خواند.
بخند بر شب
بر روز، بر ماه،
بخند بر پیچاپیچ
خیابان‌های جزیره، بر این پسربچه کمرو
که دوستت دارد،
اما آنگاه که چشم می‌گشایم و می‌بندم،
آنگاه که پاهایم می‌روند و باز می‌گردند،
نان را، هوا را،
روشنی را، بهار را،
از من بگیر
اما خنده‌ات را هرگز
تا چشم از دنیا نبندم.

پابلو نرودا / احمد پوری

http://yeknoon.blogsky.com/

Me and myself :-)

2006-06-02T15:57:00.000-07:00

I love poetry, as it is clear from my name, and I have so many poems by heart. This morning, however, I was listening to a persian station and I have heard a poem that I have never heard of it, and it came to me that I don't know any peom from that poet (in this case, Farokhi Sistani).
It really moved me. I need to go back and do some reading.

Forough

2006-05-30T17:19:00.000-07:00

Ahmad Shamloo

2006-05-26T13:34:00.000-07:00

Here is the website of one of my Favorite poets.
http://www.shamlou.org/

Iran music web page

2006-05-25T13:47:00.000-07:00

Nabavi's

2006-05-24T10:42:00.000-07:00

دوم خرداد و حسرت ها

دیروز دوم خرداد بود. راستش را بخواهی دلم برای دوم خرداد تنگ شده است. روزهای خوب خاتمی. روزهایی که می شد به تصویر مردی که تمام وجودش راستی و درستی بود نگاه کنی و دلت بخواهد بگوئی که دوستش داری. دلم برای آن شبی که مصاحبه خاتمی و کریستین امانپور پخش می شد و من احساس می کردم رئیس جمهور کشورم یک مرد متمدن و اهل خرد است، تنگ شده است. دلم برای روزهای امید و احترام تنگ شده است. هنوز چیزی در پس ذهن من است که دوستش می دارم، در پس ذهن من مردی با لباسی به رنگ شیر و تصویری به روشنی خنده و چشمانی پر از مهربانی زنده است که هر روز که می گذرد به روزهای زیستن در روزگار او بیشتر و بیشتر فخر می کنم. شاید بگویی مگر خاتمی چه کرد؟ پاسخ ات را به امروز واگذار می کنم، خاتمی تمام آن چیزی بود که امروز نیست، احترام، مهربانی، دوستی، آزادی، و حس خوب بودن

Amir's Album

2006-05-23T17:41:00.000-07:00

Amir's Album

2006-05-18T17:24:00.000-07:00

Following poem is from Nadia Anjoman, an Afghan poet, who has been killed by her husband. The poem touched my heart!

نيست شوقی که زبان باز کنم، از چه بخوانم؟

من که منفور زمانم، چه بخوانم‌ چه نخوانم
چه بگويم سخن از شهد، که زهر است به کامم

وای از مشت ستمگر که بکوبيده دهانم
نيست غمخوار مرا در همه دنيا که بنازم

چه بگريم، چه بخندم، چه بميرم، چه بمانم
من و اين کنج اسارت، غم ناکامی و حسرت

که عبث زاده‌ام و مهر ببايد به دهانم
دانم ای دل که بهاران بود و موسم عشرت

من پربسته چه سازم که پريدن نتوانم
گرچه ديری است خموشم، نرود نغمه ز يادم

زان که هر لحظه به نجوا سخن از دل برهانم
ياد آن روز گرامی که قفس را بشکافم

سر برون آرم از اين عزلت و مستانه بخوانم
من نه آن بيد ضعيفم که ز هر باد بلرزم

دخت افغانم و برجاست که دايم به فغانم

2006-05-18T16:51:00.000-07:00

By itself today was a good day. I got a very good result from my experiment and I made another good one as well. Had a good lunch and everything looks good. The question was when all the ordinary things are OK, why I am not feeling well.
I just remember some day ago when we were driving home, I looked into my telephone list and it came to me that I have no friend to call and chat. That was a big shocking moment. What did I do to my life? Was it the result of immigration? Then I tried to write to all of my former friends. In respond I haven't heard from none of them. This is the reality of the life. Or the reality of my life. Being lonely :-~

Amir's Album

2006-05-17T13:05:00.000-07:00

Amir's Album

2006-05-11T15:10:00.000-07:00

All the bad genes are expressing themselves :-)) I have been in LA courthouse in the morning, got a bad pain in my stomach afterward, had a persian lunch with freinds and now I am in food coma. A mint tea from Anisha and apple pie from Janice didn't make it any better :D
Well, the good thing is that tomorrow I am off and the last bad thing is that I have the surgery.
Well, the typical life with ups and downs.

Chakameh & Amir, March 20st 2006 NOWROUZ

2006-05-09T15:10:00.000-07:00

Here we are happy and shiny :-))

It was the Nowrouz 1385 (20st march 2006).

Happy Happy Nowrouz to everybody.

(I know it is late, but I haven't have time to post a photo :-))

2006-05-09T15:06:00.000-07:00

Sleepy, Sleepy, Sleepy. The whole world looks sleepy.

2006-04-28T16:45:00.000-07:00

Writing a weblog is very funny. I write and I know only I know about it. But also there is a chance that someone else reads it. It is a strange feelling.
I won a Ticket for Sima Bina Concert today which made me really happy. I wanted to go there and it was a perfect gift in this hard week that I had.

2006-04-27T16:43:00.000-07:00

It was the National Lab Week. It was fun. We had some special food every day and all the employee were kind of happy.
Lots of food and lots of fun.
But, I am still so tired. As usual nothing makes me happy and I am struggeling with the philosophy of my life. There is one thing I am sure about it though; I don't like myself now. This is not whom I meant to be and this is not why I have been fighting for the last 14 years.
If my life meant to be this meaningless, why I went through this much trouble. Why this much studying? Why this much education?
Where am I now? What good am I doing?

2006-04-13T14:08:00.000-07:00

I see different websites and I think why I am not keeping my website up-to-date? Do I shy? Do I hesitate to write about my private life? Am I affraid of showing the real face of my life?
I don't know. I wish I was stronger. I wish I were not where I am now. I feel like my potentials and my abilities are wasted and I am not myself.
Life is so hard and I am tired all the time. Nothing makes me happy and I don't know what to do...

2005-11-30T13:06:00.000-08:00

Here is another adeventure. I am strating to work from tomorrow. So far I had no excitement, but since this morning I am getting excited.
Whoever are you, anywhere in the world, please wish me luck :-)

The bad days

2005-11-08T14:56:00.000-08:00

I am wonering when the bad days will be gone! This is the ever first time in my life that I am experiencing something so hard to keep up with. Everything is either wrong by itself, or in the wrong time or in the wrong place. I am getting more tired everyday and recovering is getting harder. The question is that when the good days come back, will I remember how hard was to get there? Will I appreciate it? I need to do so!!!!!! The photo is just to cheer it up a little bit.

2005-10-03T15:05:00.000-07:00

I am tired. Just so tired!

Third paper

2005-09-12T13:32:00.000-07:00

Happily I saw my third paper is published :-)) Here is the DOI: 10.1159/000086703 under this title: . Minicircle DNA immobilized in bacterial ghosts: In vivo production of a safe non-viral DNA delivery vehicles.

chakameh's Orchid

2005-08-30T14:19:00.000-07:00

My second paper

2005-08-30T08:36:00.000-07:00

Since yesterday we are just watching TV and the Katrina's catastroph. It is so sad to see people lost their life. Today is also a very new experience, Amir is called for the Jury. We have a very funny feeling.
Back to work, here is my second paper: http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.jconrel.2004.10.026. As said before, I would be more than happy to discuss the contents and get any new idea or suggestion.

my recent updates

2005-08-29T16:00:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody. Here I am, experiencing something new. Writing :-)) I start in English and then when I learn more, will switch to Persian, or both. I'll see.
Hope you help me learn more and tell me what you think is necessary to be done.

Waiting for your comments!

my first paper

2005-08-29T15:25:00.000-07:00

I shall say I am going to put all of my papers and posters here and make it easy for myself to track them online. It may be useful for others too.
I published my first paper in "Current Opinion in Biotechnology 2004, 15(6): 530-537". To see it online, just click : http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.copbio.2004.10.004.
Please feel free to write me and discuss what you feel may need any discussion.