| Inferno ...I opened my arms Threw my hands In the air And Splashed an invisible fluid into sky As the saints do To bless the sinners And suddenly, Sky became ill Blue turned gray White grew dark The vicious brush of wind Painted a gloomy picture On the canvas Before my eyes... >>>> |
| Quotes From My Favorite Philosophers |
In the Realm of Reality
...Deep inside I could not
blame people for thinking
this way though. But I was
hoping to be discriminated
against in a McDonald's or
Wal-Mart so I could sue the
hell out of them. My looks
could have come to my
rescue at least once! But
contrary to my expectations,
that never happened.
guiltless man on the run,
waiting to get caught just to
prove his innocence...
>>>>
...Deep inside I could not
blame people for thinking
this way though. But I was
hoping to be discriminated
against in a McDonald's or
Wal-Mart so I could sue the
hell out of them. My looks
could have come to my
rescue at least once! But
contrary to my expectations,
that never happened.
guiltless man on the run,
waiting to get caught just to
prove his innocence...
>>>>
Rain
The sun was not yet up. The
street was empty. No roaring
automobiles, no cursing mothers
pulling kids around, no noise of
blacksmith’s saw. Not even the
neighborhood beggar. No sign of
life yet. >>>>
The sun was not yet up. The
street was empty. No roaring
automobiles, no cursing mothers
pulling kids around, no noise of
blacksmith’s saw. Not even the
neighborhood beggar. No sign of
life yet. >>>>
Most Stupid Race of All
A Racially Insensitive Commentary
...According to the recommendations
presented in this document, they have
penetrated into our civilized societies.
They have insiders among us disguised as
human beings and operating as high rank
politicians and world leaders who have
legal and moral authorities over us to
expedite the annihilation of the human
race.
>>>>
A Racially Insensitive Commentary
...According to the recommendations
presented in this document, they have
penetrated into our civilized societies.
They have insiders among us disguised as
human beings and operating as high rank
politicians and world leaders who have
legal and moral authorities over us to
expedite the annihilation of the human
race.
>>>>
We Have Everything
Contrary to my expectations, my ten
years old nephew who was not
surprised to see the slinky I’d brought
him as a souvenir from the United
States said, “We have slinky too.
Next time we go to Bazaar, I’ll show
it to you amoo jaan or as you
Americans say dear uncle. Whatever
you find in America we have it right
here in Iran.” >>>>
Contrary to my expectations, my ten
years old nephew who was not
surprised to see the slinky I’d brought
him as a souvenir from the United
States said, “We have slinky too.
Next time we go to Bazaar, I’ll show
it to you amoo jaan or as you
Americans say dear uncle. Whatever
you find in America we have it right
here in Iran.” >>>>
| Darkness When the darkness creeps inside me I watch it with despair |
Adam and Eve
A Different Version
The couple noticed a snake any
reactions, the snake released
himself from the branch and
flew in the air. It tossed and
turned masterfully and landed
before them in the shape of a
man. Adam, who was stunned
by this spectacular
performance, desperately
gathered all his strength,
looked his enemy in the eyes,
and introduced himself, “Nice
to meet you. My name is
Adam. The forefather of
humanity.”
>>>>
A Different Version
The couple noticed a snake any
reactions, the snake released
himself from the branch and
flew in the air. It tossed and
turned masterfully and landed
before them in the shape of a
man. Adam, who was stunned
by this spectacular
performance, desperately
gathered all his strength,
looked his enemy in the eyes,
and introduced himself, “Nice
to meet you. My name is
Adam. The forefather of
humanity.”
>>>>
The Old Picture
Where was I? I questioned
Every time I gazed
At the shades of gray
On the vintage photo
Of my brother and pregnant
Mom
Where was I?
The gloomy faces etched on
the paper
Made me wonder
“You were there. Outside the
frame"
My sister told me once
For so many years
I’ve examined the lines
Of the grim faces
Frozen in time
Searched for a truth
If it ever was >>>>
Where was I? I questioned
Every time I gazed
At the shades of gray
On the vintage photo
Of my brother and pregnant
Mom
Where was I?
The gloomy faces etched on
the paper
Made me wonder
“You were there. Outside the
frame"
My sister told me once
For so many years
I’ve examined the lines
Of the grim faces
Frozen in time
Searched for a truth
If it ever was >>>>
| Premonition Would you like another one?” The man sitting at the bar offered a drink to the woman next to him. “Ah. I don’t know. I’m getting tipsy,” she said. “That’s what Friday nights are for.” he countered with a smirk on his face. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” Uma replied in a seductive tone while playing with the empty glass in her hand.“ I enjoy your company and do anything to prolong our exciting conversation.” “Hum. Why am I skeptical of your intentions then?” she sneered.>>>> |
My Life
With the family of a dentist who had
two teenage sons. Their house was
adjacent to an outdoor summer
movie theater. The smart dentist
had built an elevated wooden
platform in his yard overlooking the
movie screen. The elevated porch
was large enough to easily seat both
families therefore every night we
enjoyed a free movie to compliment
our dinner. Occasionally I In
Hamedan we lived enjoyed spitting
on the sitting audience down bellow
in the darkness. What a memorable
summer that was. We watched
many Hollywood movies and heard
many more screaming audiences
complaining about our excessive
talking and loud laughter. My father
also joined us for a week or two that
summer.>>>>
With the family of a dentist who had
two teenage sons. Their house was
adjacent to an outdoor summer
movie theater. The smart dentist
had built an elevated wooden
platform in his yard overlooking the
movie screen. The elevated porch
was large enough to easily seat both
families therefore every night we
enjoyed a free movie to compliment
our dinner. Occasionally I In
Hamedan we lived enjoyed spitting
on the sitting audience down bellow
in the darkness. What a memorable
summer that was. We watched
many Hollywood movies and heard
many more screaming audiences
complaining about our excessive
talking and loud laughter. My father
also joined us for a week or two that
summer.>>>>
Lucky Night
“Congratulations, Mr. Grand. We all
heard of your success on the stock,
the one you purchased a week ago.
It almost doubled today.” The
security guard grinned holding the
heavy glass door open for the
investment banker.
Grand called over his shoulder
“Thank you, Roger. Remember,
nothing is random. Everything
happens for a reason.” He adjusted
the lapel of his Armani suit and made
his way down the dimly-lit alley to his
Mercedes Benz.
Suddenly he was stunned by a
gunshot and jumped behind his car
and heard another one. “My brand-
new car, ruined with bullet holes.”
The thought struck Grand as
intolerable. Without thinking he
stuck his head out and waved his
arms in the air, “Don’t. Don’t shoot!”
Another shot pierced the darkness.
He looked at the beautiful shine of
his recently detailed car and couldn’t
bring himself to use it as shelter. He
ran toward an approaching cab,
ordering it to stop. The cab lurched
to a stop with a horrific squeak.
>>>>
“Congratulations, Mr. Grand. We all
heard of your success on the stock,
the one you purchased a week ago.
It almost doubled today.” The
security guard grinned holding the
heavy glass door open for the
investment banker.
Grand called over his shoulder
“Thank you, Roger. Remember,
nothing is random. Everything
happens for a reason.” He adjusted
the lapel of his Armani suit and made
his way down the dimly-lit alley to his
Mercedes Benz.
Suddenly he was stunned by a
gunshot and jumped behind his car
and heard another one. “My brand-
new car, ruined with bullet holes.”
The thought struck Grand as
intolerable. Without thinking he
stuck his head out and waved his
arms in the air, “Don’t. Don’t shoot!”
Another shot pierced the darkness.
He looked at the beautiful shine of
his recently detailed car and couldn’t
bring himself to use it as shelter. He
ran toward an approaching cab,
ordering it to stop. The cab lurched
to a stop with a horrific squeak.
>>>>
Utterance
“Hmm.” That’s all I hear
from her. She makes this
sound to show me she’s
which happens frequently,
she sits silently, stares into
my eyes and listens. I can
trace her gentle wheezing
mixed into my words. I love
the way she scratches her
right ear.
>>>>
“Hmm.” That’s all I hear
from her. She makes this
sound to show me she’s
which happens frequently,
she sits silently, stares into
my eyes and listens. I can
trace her gentle wheezing
mixed into my words. I love
the way she scratches her
right ear.
>>>>
Screw
...A screw, a defective one,
that’s what I am. Pay
attention! I’m not a nail. Nails
are flat head with no character
I say. They're straightforward.
I’m not. They have no twists
and turns, I do. They are easy
going. I’m not. Just hit a nail
on the head and it obediently
does its job, I don’t. You can
straighten a crooked nail with a
hammer and it works as good
as new and if you hit me, I get
even more crooked.
The first time I was put into a
good use, I failed miserably.
The carpenter, who picked me
out randomly from the box full
of screws, could not drive me
through the wood because I
was slightly crooked and my
head was stripped. His hand
slipped and I made him bleed.
So he tossed me to the ground
cursing me under his breath...
>>>>
...A screw, a defective one,
that’s what I am. Pay
attention! I’m not a nail. Nails
are flat head with no character
I say. They're straightforward.
I’m not. They have no twists
and turns, I do. They are easy
going. I’m not. Just hit a nail
on the head and it obediently
does its job, I don’t. You can
straighten a crooked nail with a
hammer and it works as good
as new and if you hit me, I get
even more crooked.
The first time I was put into a
good use, I failed miserably.
The carpenter, who picked me
out randomly from the box full
of screws, could not drive me
through the wood because I
was slightly crooked and my
head was stripped. His hand
slipped and I made him bleed.
So he tossed me to the ground
cursing me under his breath...
>>>>
| Classified Advertising&Public Announcements |
Employment Opportunity at
CIA
...You must have a Post
Graduate degree form an
accredited US academic read
and write... >>>>
CIA
...You must have a Post
Graduate degree form an
accredited US academic read
and write... >>>>
The distinguished veteran
Of the Jolly Widows of
Of the Jolly Widows of
Immediate Job Opening For a
Professional Killer >>>>
Professional Killer >>>>
To: Petty Dictator General A J P
From: Board of Trustees,
Promote Despotism
The news of your failed coup
embarrassed us all. There was
no report of bloodshed, no mass
detention and not even a brutal
crackdown on witnessed a few
random shooting incidents,
some protesters with broken
From: Board of Trustees,
Promote Despotism
The news of your failed coup
embarrassed us all. There was
no report of bloodshed, no mass
detention and not even a brutal
crackdown on witnessed a few
random shooting incidents,
some protesters with broken
Letter to a Lost Friend
filled the void in her life. We
both had much in ...After
divorce, your delicate flower
was common most importantly
you. We soon got married and
flew to Hawaii for honeymoon. I
hope you received our postcard
in prison. The you to be involved
and keep contact.
After your eight years prison
term I was hoping we could
start afresh. My wife and I
welcomed your return with
open arms. But instead of
embracing us as your only
friends, you embraced bottles of
booze and got involve with
drugs. Your lack of self-esteem
and determination in managing
your life was perplexing. >>>>
filled the void in her life. We
both had much in ...After
divorce, your delicate flower
was common most importantly
you. We soon got married and
flew to Hawaii for honeymoon. I
hope you received our postcard
in prison. The you to be involved
and keep contact.
After your eight years prison
term I was hoping we could
start afresh. My wife and I
welcomed your return with
open arms. But instead of
embracing us as your only
friends, you embraced bottles of
booze and got involve with
drugs. Your lack of self-esteem
and determination in managing
your life was perplexing. >>>>
Insomnia
...Why would a little fly make its
mission in life to torment me in
the middle of the night? We both
knew shut and the windows
closed; one of us had to fall
tonight.
As I fantasized different ways of
destroying my enemy, the insect
callously opened another front in
the war and suddenly flew right
into my face. A split second before
clocking me in the eye, it changed
its path and violently circled my
head. Now the only way to strike
it was to punch my own face. This
charade had gone long
enough...>>>>
...Why would a little fly make its
mission in life to torment me in
the middle of the night? We both
knew shut and the windows
closed; one of us had to fall
tonight.
As I fantasized different ways of
destroying my enemy, the insect
callously opened another front in
the war and suddenly flew right
into my face. A split second before
clocking me in the eye, it changed
its path and violently circled my
head. Now the only way to strike
it was to punch my own face. This
charade had gone long
enough...>>>>
Hook
I took a sip of water just
before I went to bed. If I
drink more, I wake up in
the middle of the night for
a trip to bathroom and
the tormenting insomnia
afterward is inevitable. I’
ve learned that water at
night epitomizes
shattered dreams and
painful awakening.
I tucked myself in and
before closing my eyes,
myself victoriously
parading my prized catch
dangling from the fishing
line wrapped around my
hand.>>>>
I took a sip of water just
before I went to bed. If I
drink more, I wake up in
the middle of the night for
a trip to bathroom and
the tormenting insomnia
afterward is inevitable. I’
ve learned that water at
night epitomizes
shattered dreams and
painful awakening.
I tucked myself in and
before closing my eyes,
myself victoriously
parading my prized catch
dangling from the fishing
line wrapped around my
hand.>>>>
PROCRASTINATOR
When he opened his eyes in the morning,
he was seventy years old and it was time
to re-evaluate his life. He sat behind his
desk and carefully recorded all his
unfulfilled dreams one by one. The list
was long.
It started with his well crafted plot to
failure to accomplish this mission had
taken a heavy toll on him. Later in life he’
d kissed so many yet none replaced the
one he never had.
A few years later, he witnessed a
deprived man stealing a piece of bread.
The shame on the poor man’s face the
moment he was caught was engraved on
the young man’s soul.
He vowed to eradicate poverty. As a
mature adult however, he learned to
think with his head instead of his heart
and became distracted by his endless
business responsibilities and totally forgot
this noble aspiration.>>>>
When he opened his eyes in the morning,
he was seventy years old and it was time
to re-evaluate his life. He sat behind his
desk and carefully recorded all his
unfulfilled dreams one by one. The list
was long.
It started with his well crafted plot to
failure to accomplish this mission had
taken a heavy toll on him. Later in life he’
d kissed so many yet none replaced the
one he never had.
A few years later, he witnessed a
deprived man stealing a piece of bread.
The shame on the poor man’s face the
moment he was caught was engraved on
the young man’s soul.
He vowed to eradicate poverty. As a
mature adult however, he learned to
think with his head instead of his heart
and became distracted by his endless
business responsibilities and totally forgot
this noble aspiration.>>>>
How to Get a Heart Attack
The most convenient way of achieving a
your stress level. And the best method
to raise your stress is to torment yourself
because you’re a complete failure.
Always try to overlook your
achievements in life-if you had any- and
concentrate on your weaknesses and
magnify your shortcomings. Remember
failure is the key to success.
Although there are a variety of
innovative techniques to induce a
successful heart attack, in this study let
us focus on a few fundamental and
universally proven ideas to reach this
goal.
Jealousy!
Carefully observe your family members,
relatives and friends to find one who you
can be jealous of. Studies show that
being jealous of loved ones is more lethal
therefore, don’t be sloppy and envy
total strangers. If someone close to you
is accomplished, he or she can be your
death role model.>>>>
The most convenient way of achieving a
your stress level. And the best method
to raise your stress is to torment yourself
because you’re a complete failure.
Always try to overlook your
achievements in life-if you had any- and
concentrate on your weaknesses and
magnify your shortcomings. Remember
failure is the key to success.
Although there are a variety of
innovative techniques to induce a
successful heart attack, in this study let
us focus on a few fundamental and
universally proven ideas to reach this
goal.
Jealousy!
Carefully observe your family members,
relatives and friends to find one who you
can be jealous of. Studies show that
being jealous of loved ones is more lethal
therefore, don’t be sloppy and envy
total strangers. If someone close to you
is accomplished, he or she can be your
death role model.>>>>
Encounter
Once again, the same pervert
followed me in the darkest streets of
my nights but he’d never managed
to catch me yet. When I run out of
breath and the split second before
he lays a hand on me, I usually trip
and hit my head on a curb or crash
into traffic light pole on the street
corner and wake up in cold sweat.
The minute I fall asleep, I have to
run for my life. I’m living a rerun
episode of the same nightmare over
and again. >>>>
Once again, the same pervert
followed me in the darkest streets of
my nights but he’d never managed
to catch me yet. When I run out of
breath and the split second before
he lays a hand on me, I usually trip
and hit my head on a curb or crash
into traffic light pole on the street
corner and wake up in cold sweat.
The minute I fall asleep, I have to
run for my life. I’m living a rerun
episode of the same nightmare over
and again. >>>>
Happiness
I know there is happiness
I felt it in the nap I took
On my aunt Zari’s lap
I savored it in the curry sauce I love...
>>>>
I know there is happiness
I felt it in the nap I took
On my aunt Zari’s lap
I savored it in the curry sauce I love...
>>>>
Colors of Dream
In a day unlike any other,
two toddlers sat alone and
out of their parents’ sight.
They exchanged no words,
they just didn’t know how.
Yet, with their impulses,
expressions and gestures,
they expressed their utter
eagerness to explore the
world in which they’d
recently arrived.
In the midst of their
childhood moment and to
their complete surprise, a
colorful ball suddenly fell
between them. The
vivacious colors of their new
toy painted wide smiles on
their faces. Violet splashed
on black, yellow curved into
white and purple tickled
green. Orange bumped into
gray, scarlet giggled with
red to make cobalt feel so
blue. >>>>
In a day unlike any other,
two toddlers sat alone and
out of their parents’ sight.
They exchanged no words,
they just didn’t know how.
Yet, with their impulses,
expressions and gestures,
they expressed their utter
eagerness to explore the
world in which they’d
recently arrived.
In the midst of their
childhood moment and to
their complete surprise, a
colorful ball suddenly fell
between them. The
vivacious colors of their new
toy painted wide smiles on
their faces. Violet splashed
on black, yellow curved into
white and purple tickled
green. Orange bumped into
gray, scarlet giggled with
red to make cobalt feel so
blue. >>>>
“Have you met our new neighbors?” Bob
asked his wife, peering out their kitchen
window, sipping his cold beer.
“Not yet. They just moved in a few days
ago.” Pork chops were sizzling in the pan.
“After they settle in, we should go and meet
them.” She responded.
“They look funny, where are they from?” He
was ready to sink his teeth into a juicy piece
of meat, the highlight of his upcoming
weekend.
“They look Middle Eastern to me, but their
two girls were probably born here. They
speak perfect English. I heard them talking
to April the other day. They seemed to be
getting along well. They played for two full
hours without yelling and screaming.” >>>>
A Perfect Evening
Answering the phone before
checking the name or
number on the caller ID is
something I don’t usually do.
But I had a good feeling
about this and when I heard
her voice, my instinct proved
never receive. After a brief
greeting, and before letting
me say anything, she invited
me to dinner at her house.
Stunned, I enthusiastically
said, “I’d love to come.”
“Friday night at eight works
for you?” she asked.
“Certainly, I’ll bring a bottle
of Shiraz to enhance the
romantic ambiance of our
night together.” >>>>
Moment
He left work at 5:00 pm
preoccupied with the
faulty lock on the laundry
room door. Last week his
wife assigned him a new
and urgent maintenance
job, “It locked by itself
and I had to use my key to
get into the house. Make
sure to fix it.” And he
replied “I’ll have to get a
new lock and replace it.”
And just to be on safe
side, he hung an extra key
on a hook in the garage.
Every minor issue in his
marriage had a potential
to turn into a big
headache. “I was busy
this, but I’ll get it done
this weekend. In the
meantime, if you get
locked out, just use the
extra key by the door.”
>>>>
He left work at 5:00 pm
preoccupied with the
faulty lock on the laundry
room door. Last week his
wife assigned him a new
and urgent maintenance
job, “It locked by itself
and I had to use my key to
get into the house. Make
sure to fix it.” And he
replied “I’ll have to get a
new lock and replace it.”
And just to be on safe
side, he hung an extra key
on a hook in the garage.
Every minor issue in his
marriage had a potential
to turn into a big
headache. “I was busy
this, but I’ll get it done
this weekend. In the
meantime, if you get
locked out, just use the
extra key by the door.”
>>>>
An Absurd Story
Come
Sit and listen
To my story
Then judge for yourself.
It starts somewhere
But not where it should.
It has all the elements
But not in right places.
It has a plot
Yet it makes no sense.
All the characters exist
But they’re not themselves.
Dialogs are impeccable
Yet they’re all phony.
Everything is absurd
Nothing makes sense
And the humor is
I have no power
To make any change.
This I know well
Just like any other story
One day it will end
Sooner or later!
Come
Sit and listen
To my story
Then judge for yourself.
It starts somewhere
But not where it should.
It has all the elements
But not in right places.
It has a plot
Yet it makes no sense.
All the characters exist
But they’re not themselves.
Dialogs are impeccable
Yet they’re all phony.
Everything is absurd
Nothing makes sense
And the humor is
I have no power
To make any change.
This I know well
Just like any other story
One day it will end
Sooner or later!
Real Me
...My adolescence was in complete
disarray until the revolution happened.
Everything was in chaos. Up was down
and down was up. Left and right
switched positions and no one knew
what the hell was going on. Anarchy
governed the country. The pictures on
currency changed, the emblem on flag
altered and the laws too. New leaders
emerged and revered values were all
redefined. One day as I was sitting in
my cell, a prison guard told me I was
freed. As soon as I walked out, I was
welcomed back to society with a
wreath of flowers. This sudden nobility
caught me off guard and I didn’t know
how to react. The same guard who
used to beat me bowed before me and
said, ”You are a national hero now.
You were born on the day of
revolution.” I was instantly
transformed from an anti-social
element to the very symbol of
liberation. The time I served in prison
was declared the ultimate heroic price
I’d paid for the cause of freedom.>>>>
...My adolescence was in complete
disarray until the revolution happened.
Everything was in chaos. Up was down
and down was up. Left and right
switched positions and no one knew
what the hell was going on. Anarchy
governed the country. The pictures on
currency changed, the emblem on flag
altered and the laws too. New leaders
emerged and revered values were all
redefined. One day as I was sitting in
my cell, a prison guard told me I was
freed. As soon as I walked out, I was
welcomed back to society with a
wreath of flowers. This sudden nobility
caught me off guard and I didn’t know
how to react. The same guard who
used to beat me bowed before me and
said, ”You are a national hero now.
You were born on the day of
revolution.” I was instantly
transformed from an anti-social
element to the very symbol of
liberation. The time I served in prison
was declared the ultimate heroic price
I’d paid for the cause of freedom.>>>>
Rogue Imagination
Ink spilled, smeared the paper
Stains ravaged the page
Soaked in surface
Pierced the core
Then seeped
Slowly bled
Wild fantasies
Vague emotions
Enemies clashed
A silent chaos, in presence of calm
Vivid fear, fading hope, chronic despair
All before my eyes, alive on my paper
Then random spots morphed
Characters born
An eerie poem came to mind
A dark mélange of fantasy
A rhythmic expression of awe
Filled with daring question marks
Fake quotations, dull spaces
Redundant periods and exclamations
too!
None ever made sense
Neither the haunting images
Nor the meaningless words
Ink spilled, smeared the paper
Stains ravaged the page
Soaked in surface
Pierced the core
Then seeped
Slowly bled
Wild fantasies
Vague emotions
Enemies clashed
A silent chaos, in presence of calm
Vivid fear, fading hope, chronic despair
All before my eyes, alive on my paper
Then random spots morphed
Characters born
An eerie poem came to mind
A dark mélange of fantasy
A rhythmic expression of awe
Filled with daring question marks
Fake quotations, dull spaces
Redundant periods and exclamations
too!
None ever made sense
Neither the haunting images
Nor the meaningless words
Illusion
Then to the rolling Heaven itself I cried,
Asking, ”What lamp had destiny to guide
Her little children stumbling in the dark?
And- ”A blind understanding!” Heaven replied.
Omar Khayaam
Dinner Party
“I’ll be home a little late,” Adam said to his wife on the
cell phone.
“How late is late? You know we have guests tonight. Salad
and entertainment are your responsibilities.” Shiva said.
“That’s exactly why I’ll be late. I need to get a book
before I come home. I’ll show you some incredible
artworks. A co-worker of mine had a calendar designed
with optical illusions. They’re amazing. You’ve never seen
anything like it.”
>>>>
Then to the rolling Heaven itself I cried,
Asking, ”What lamp had destiny to guide
Her little children stumbling in the dark?
And- ”A blind understanding!” Heaven replied.
Omar Khayaam
Dinner Party
“I’ll be home a little late,” Adam said to his wife on the
cell phone.
“How late is late? You know we have guests tonight. Salad
and entertainment are your responsibilities.” Shiva said.
“That’s exactly why I’ll be late. I need to get a book
before I come home. I’ll show you some incredible
artworks. A co-worker of mine had a calendar designed
with optical illusions. They’re amazing. You’ve never seen
anything like it.”
>>>>
Cold Rain
Didn’t I stroll under its refreshing mist a thousand
times? Didn’t it make me wet on the way to
school? Didn’t it ruin my homework times and
again? Didn’t the young palms of my hands
endure the sting of punishment every time? Didn’t
it give me the cold, the congested nose and the
cough and the horrible taste of cough syrup
afterward? Didn’t I drop the vitamin C tablet in a
glass of water, dazzled with the fizzle and down it
with a frown? Wasn’t it all because of rain?
Wasn’t my first kiss under a broken umbrella?
Wasn’t it there sweet flavor of raindrops between
our steamy lips? If it wasn’t a rainy day, where
does the misty recollection come from? Why is it
flowing in my poem? Why does it shower my
thoughts? Why do I think of rain when I’m blue?
Why does it complement my delight?
Was it not true that when my aunt died, I cried
under the rain? Didn’t rain wash my tears? Didn’t
my sorrow make it fall? If rain has no feelings,
where does its sympathy come from? Why are my
sentiments soaked?
And now it’s pouring, this capricious rain. It’s
madly knocking on my lonely door, splashing on
the walls of my sorrow and drumming on the roof
of my youth. It’s seeping through the window
cracks of my room, dripping on the cherished
photos of mine. Through the foggy glass, I feel its
pain and embrace its hazy presence. Its beads are
freezing on the tips of nude branches. Autumn has
taken over, leaves have fallen. A long cold season
is on the way. Rain knows it well. Maybe I should
too.
Didn’t I stroll under its refreshing mist a thousand
times? Didn’t it make me wet on the way to
school? Didn’t it ruin my homework times and
again? Didn’t the young palms of my hands
endure the sting of punishment every time? Didn’t
it give me the cold, the congested nose and the
cough and the horrible taste of cough syrup
afterward? Didn’t I drop the vitamin C tablet in a
glass of water, dazzled with the fizzle and down it
with a frown? Wasn’t it all because of rain?
Wasn’t my first kiss under a broken umbrella?
Wasn’t it there sweet flavor of raindrops between
our steamy lips? If it wasn’t a rainy day, where
does the misty recollection come from? Why is it
flowing in my poem? Why does it shower my
thoughts? Why do I think of rain when I’m blue?
Why does it complement my delight?
Was it not true that when my aunt died, I cried
under the rain? Didn’t rain wash my tears? Didn’t
my sorrow make it fall? If rain has no feelings,
where does its sympathy come from? Why are my
sentiments soaked?
And now it’s pouring, this capricious rain. It’s
madly knocking on my lonely door, splashing on
the walls of my sorrow and drumming on the roof
of my youth. It’s seeping through the window
cracks of my room, dripping on the cherished
photos of mine. Through the foggy glass, I feel its
pain and embrace its hazy presence. Its beads are
freezing on the tips of nude branches. Autumn has
taken over, leaves have fallen. A long cold season
is on the way. Rain knows it well. Maybe I should
too.
Prisoner
I reside on the top level of a skyscraper,
so high in the sky that I’m too scared to
look down. When I look out the window-
the only opening to outside world- all I
see is thick cloud below and infinite sky
above. My residence has no door. I
have no way of communicating with
outside world, if such thing exists. I’ve
lived in a solitary confinement all my
life, yet I have no complains. I’m quite
comfortable. I don’t know how but I
never run out of food or water. I’m
healthy therefore no medical attention
is necessary. I don’t even feel lonely so I
don’t need companionship.
How did I end up here? How long I lived
and how long I will, are the existential
questions of my life. My recent
memories are insignificant and the long
term recollections might be the
figments of my imagination. My mere
existence might be a dream. Either I
live in my own dream or in someone
else’s therefore, I am temporary.
Either the reality of my life is a
reflection of my dreams or the other
way around. Either I wake up and
realize I don’t exist anymore or
someone else will soon realize I was a
dream. This is bound to happen sooner
or later. >>>>
I reside on the top level of a skyscraper,
so high in the sky that I’m too scared to
look down. When I look out the window-
the only opening to outside world- all I
see is thick cloud below and infinite sky
above. My residence has no door. I
have no way of communicating with
outside world, if such thing exists. I’ve
lived in a solitary confinement all my
life, yet I have no complains. I’m quite
comfortable. I don’t know how but I
never run out of food or water. I’m
healthy therefore no medical attention
is necessary. I don’t even feel lonely so I
don’t need companionship.
How did I end up here? How long I lived
and how long I will, are the existential
questions of my life. My recent
memories are insignificant and the long
term recollections might be the
figments of my imagination. My mere
existence might be a dream. Either I
live in my own dream or in someone
else’s therefore, I am temporary.
Either the reality of my life is a
reflection of my dreams or the other
way around. Either I wake up and
realize I don’t exist anymore or
someone else will soon realize I was a
dream. This is bound to happen sooner
or later. >>>>
Christmas Eve
“Go talk to your professors, do something. The entire
summer you worked for the university and they paid you
nothing,” she wiped her tears.
“I owe them tuitions for the last two semesters.”
“Talk to the Foreign Students Advisor. Tell her we’ve two
small kids.”
“I already did. She said that’s the university policy. If there is
a balance, they garnish my income.”
“They do what to your income?”
“Garnish, I looked it up in dictionary. It means they decorate
my paycheck. She said I wouldn’t graduate if all debts are
not paid in full.”
“So, why are they holding your paychecks? You’re not
skipping town. Where do you go without your diploma? Tell
them this summer you’ll go to Chicago to drive a cab? Tell
them you’ll save two thousand dollars and pay off your
debts.” she was carving out the rotten parts of the potatoes.
>>>>
“Go talk to your professors, do something. The entire
summer you worked for the university and they paid you
nothing,” she wiped her tears.
“I owe them tuitions for the last two semesters.”
“Talk to the Foreign Students Advisor. Tell her we’ve two
small kids.”
“I already did. She said that’s the university policy. If there is
a balance, they garnish my income.”
“They do what to your income?”
“Garnish, I looked it up in dictionary. It means they decorate
my paycheck. She said I wouldn’t graduate if all debts are
not paid in full.”
“So, why are they holding your paychecks? You’re not
skipping town. Where do you go without your diploma? Tell
them this summer you’ll go to Chicago to drive a cab? Tell
them you’ll save two thousand dollars and pay off your
debts.” she was carving out the rotten parts of the potatoes.
>>>>
A Work of Art
One day an artist who was
exploring nature, stumbled
across a rock, a rough piece
with jagged edges and sharp
corners. In this unrefined
granite, he saw a wild and
natural beauty, so he took it
home to create art.
For days and weeks and
months, he gradually carved
his anger, engraved his
passion and imprinted his love.
He chiseled his pain, shaped
his fear and grooved his hope.
Finally the rock morphed into
a naked man sitting on a
pedestal.
>>>>
One day an artist who was
exploring nature, stumbled
across a rock, a rough piece
with jagged edges and sharp
corners. In this unrefined
granite, he saw a wild and
natural beauty, so he took it
home to create art.
For days and weeks and
months, he gradually carved
his anger, engraved his
passion and imprinted his love.
He chiseled his pain, shaped
his fear and grooved his hope.
Finally the rock morphed into
a naked man sitting on a
pedestal.
>>>>
Thief
It was late at night when we returned from the party,
both tired ready to get some sleep. As I turned the
key, I noticed the door was unlocked. Something was
wrong. Cautiously I nudged the door open just to face
a half-empty house. We’d been burglarized.
Neither the television nor the leather sofa in front of it
remained. My favorite ottoman wasn’t there. The
VCR, the camcorder and the stereo system were all
gone.
I rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife
and ginger walked into every room, holding my breath
and ducking my head. Everything valuable in our
home was stolen. Even my wife’s cherished afghan.
>>>>
It was late at night when we returned from the party,
both tired ready to get some sleep. As I turned the
key, I noticed the door was unlocked. Something was
wrong. Cautiously I nudged the door open just to face
a half-empty house. We’d been burglarized.
Neither the television nor the leather sofa in front of it
remained. My favorite ottoman wasn’t there. The
VCR, the camcorder and the stereo system were all
gone.
I rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife
and ginger walked into every room, holding my breath
and ducking my head. Everything valuable in our
home was stolen. Even my wife’s cherished afghan.
>>>>
Confessions of a
Writer
“I swear, if you come one step closer,
I’ll cut your heart out with these
scissors and then kill myself!”
Mahnaz was clutching the scissors so
tightly that a drop of sweat ran
through her fingers like melted steel.
Taimor paused while gazing into her
eyes. The lovers’ destinies were
tangled in the moment. The sound of
her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
Life and death were blended in split
seconds.
Taimor sensed the hesitation in her
eyes and stormed to seize the
blades, but she determined to take
revenge, turned her hand a half a
circle and stabbed him in the chest.
Blood spewed from her lover. She
was petrified by the cold look on her
man’s face. The sharp edges of
scissors cut the life string of the two
lovers. Taimor collapsed into his
blood and Mahnaz wept bloody tears
for her loss. A tender love burned to
ashes by the flames of jealousy.”
-------------------------
This was the final paragraph of my
romance novel. One filled with love,
betrayal and crime, a masterpiece, a
tragedy to place my name among
literary legends. As soon I finished
the last paragraph, proudly I gave it
to my wife and waited for her
heartwarming critique. She
reluctantly put down her nail file, blew
onto her fingers scattering nail dust
on my novel, and plucked the
manuscript off my hand as if holding
a filthy rat by the tail. She then
reluctantly glanced through the
pages like a lazy pupil forced to do
her homework. >>>>
Writer
“I swear, if you come one step closer,
I’ll cut your heart out with these
scissors and then kill myself!”
Mahnaz was clutching the scissors so
tightly that a drop of sweat ran
through her fingers like melted steel.
Taimor paused while gazing into her
eyes. The lovers’ destinies were
tangled in the moment. The sound of
her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
Life and death were blended in split
seconds.
Taimor sensed the hesitation in her
eyes and stormed to seize the
blades, but she determined to take
revenge, turned her hand a half a
circle and stabbed him in the chest.
Blood spewed from her lover. She
was petrified by the cold look on her
man’s face. The sharp edges of
scissors cut the life string of the two
lovers. Taimor collapsed into his
blood and Mahnaz wept bloody tears
for her loss. A tender love burned to
ashes by the flames of jealousy.”
-------------------------
This was the final paragraph of my
romance novel. One filled with love,
betrayal and crime, a masterpiece, a
tragedy to place my name among
literary legends. As soon I finished
the last paragraph, proudly I gave it
to my wife and waited for her
heartwarming critique. She
reluctantly put down her nail file, blew
onto her fingers scattering nail dust
on my novel, and plucked the
manuscript off my hand as if holding
a filthy rat by the tail. She then
reluctantly glanced through the
pages like a lazy pupil forced to do
her homework. >>>>
Déjà Vu
After driving through the crowded
morning streets, I circled the block for the
second time and victoriously slipped into
the ultimate parking spot—the one right
across from my office. This
unprecedented event brightened my
morning. As I was locking the car door
and grinning to myself I noticed a small-
framed man standing on the sidewalk
looking through the window of an office
supply store.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a
peculiar sentiment. I felt like a school boy
again, a lazy pupil with homework full of
mistakes, a student waiting for a severe
punishment. My palms stung from the
soul-piercing pain inflicted by the angry
strikes of the ruler. Confused and
shaken by this sudden event, cautiously I
took a few steps closer to the man who
was calmly standing there, utterly
unaware of my suffering, gazing at the
contents of the stationery shop
showcase. I knew what he was after, the
ruler with the metallic edges. It was his
favorite, the very kind that inflicted the
most pain on my young hands. >>>>
After driving through the crowded
morning streets, I circled the block for the
second time and victoriously slipped into
the ultimate parking spot—the one right
across from my office. This
unprecedented event brightened my
morning. As I was locking the car door
and grinning to myself I noticed a small-
framed man standing on the sidewalk
looking through the window of an office
supply store.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a
peculiar sentiment. I felt like a school boy
again, a lazy pupil with homework full of
mistakes, a student waiting for a severe
punishment. My palms stung from the
soul-piercing pain inflicted by the angry
strikes of the ruler. Confused and
shaken by this sudden event, cautiously I
took a few steps closer to the man who
was calmly standing there, utterly
unaware of my suffering, gazing at the
contents of the stationery shop
showcase. I knew what he was after, the
ruler with the metallic edges. It was his
favorite, the very kind that inflicted the
most pain on my young hands. >>>>
Prize
When I got home exhausted from another hectic
day at work, I threw myself on the sofa and turned
on the television. I’d fallen into my routine, lying
on the couch, flipping through the channels
aimlessly. I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t
want to start on the honey-do’s. Oh, and I just
could not bear thinking of the pile of paperwork
on my desk waiting for me tomorrow morning.
As I dozed off, it came; that annoying telephone
rings that shattered my serenity. I ignored the
first ring, the second one was more annoying and
the third pierced my head. “Hello!” I stretched my
whole body out, just far enough to reach the
handset.
“Good evening, Sir. I’m calling from Happy
Ending. You’ve been selected to win a prize.”
Another shrewd telemarketer disturbed my rest to
sell me something I don’t need. Nobody just gives
away a prize without strings attached. I’ve heard
my fair share of sales pitches. So, I did what
anyone would do in the same situation, without
giving him an opportunity to say anything else, I
said, “Sorry, I’m not interested. Have a good
day.” I slammed the telephone down, cursing him
under my breath.
Nothing is more annoying than listening to a sales
pitch. The more reluctant you are, the harder
they sell. They wear you down until you give in.
Before you know it, you have purchased junk,
and there it sits in your living room, you trip over it
every night on the way to the sofa. You curse it,
and the person who sold it to you, and the worst
part is you pay for it every month for the rest of
your life. As a repeated victim, I promised myself
not give in so hung up. Rude? Perhaps. Sorry?
Hell no.
As I turned my attention to the TV remote, it came
again. This time, I leapt off the sofa, grabbed the
telephone, and snarled an angry, “hello.” >>>>
When I got home exhausted from another hectic
day at work, I threw myself on the sofa and turned
on the television. I’d fallen into my routine, lying
on the couch, flipping through the channels
aimlessly. I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t
want to start on the honey-do’s. Oh, and I just
could not bear thinking of the pile of paperwork
on my desk waiting for me tomorrow morning.
As I dozed off, it came; that annoying telephone
rings that shattered my serenity. I ignored the
first ring, the second one was more annoying and
the third pierced my head. “Hello!” I stretched my
whole body out, just far enough to reach the
handset.
“Good evening, Sir. I’m calling from Happy
Ending. You’ve been selected to win a prize.”
Another shrewd telemarketer disturbed my rest to
sell me something I don’t need. Nobody just gives
away a prize without strings attached. I’ve heard
my fair share of sales pitches. So, I did what
anyone would do in the same situation, without
giving him an opportunity to say anything else, I
said, “Sorry, I’m not interested. Have a good
day.” I slammed the telephone down, cursing him
under my breath.
Nothing is more annoying than listening to a sales
pitch. The more reluctant you are, the harder
they sell. They wear you down until you give in.
Before you know it, you have purchased junk,
and there it sits in your living room, you trip over it
every night on the way to the sofa. You curse it,
and the person who sold it to you, and the worst
part is you pay for it every month for the rest of
your life. As a repeated victim, I promised myself
not give in so hung up. Rude? Perhaps. Sorry?
Hell no.
As I turned my attention to the TV remote, it came
again. This time, I leapt off the sofa, grabbed the
telephone, and snarled an angry, “hello.” >>>>
End of a Day
The last day of the month when Mr.
Mahan woke, his mouth had a strange
bitter taste. After breakfast he checked
his mailbox and found a letter, one with
no sender’s address. When he looked
at the recipient’s address he was
puzzled, it was written in his own
handwriting as if he had written it
today. He was more shocked when he
noticed the postmark date. The letter
was mailed over 30 years ago.
He wondered how he could have
received a letter after all these years,
a letter he’d sent to him. He held the
envelope with two hands before his
dazzled eyes and murmured, “In the
last thirty years, I’ve moved three or
four times. Now I’m supposed to
believe that the post office is so
dedicated as to track me down after all
these years to deliver this letter? A
letter I never wrote?” >>>>
The last day of the month when Mr.
Mahan woke, his mouth had a strange
bitter taste. After breakfast he checked
his mailbox and found a letter, one with
no sender’s address. When he looked
at the recipient’s address he was
puzzled, it was written in his own
handwriting as if he had written it
today. He was more shocked when he
noticed the postmark date. The letter
was mailed over 30 years ago.
He wondered how he could have
received a letter after all these years,
a letter he’d sent to him. He held the
envelope with two hands before his
dazzled eyes and murmured, “In the
last thirty years, I’ve moved three or
four times. Now I’m supposed to
believe that the post office is so
dedicated as to track me down after all
these years to deliver this letter? A
letter I never wrote?” >>>>
Conversation in the
Park
The entire week I worried
about the tasks I planned
to do on Friday, my day off.
Chores I’d postponed for
months. The gutter was
falling off the wall, letting
rain to seep under the
foundation. The worse
were our lack luster antique
dining chairs. I’d already
bought sandpaper, a
paintbrush, thinner and
varnish to give them a
make- up.
And Friday was the
assigned day, the day I just
couldn’t bring myself to do
anything. Absurdly, I
debated which was more
urgent, the gutter or the
chairs? A broken gutter
could cost us dearly as the
rainy season was
approaching and the
lackluster chairs were the
source of embarrassment
before our guests.
I even tried to clear my
head by doing a crossword
puzzle but the name of
Napoleon’s mistress that I’d
forgotten crushed my hope
of resorting to this excuse
all together. The entire
morning wasted! All I’d
done was smoke and
monitor the time. >>>>
Park
The entire week I worried
about the tasks I planned
to do on Friday, my day off.
Chores I’d postponed for
months. The gutter was
falling off the wall, letting
rain to seep under the
foundation. The worse
were our lack luster antique
dining chairs. I’d already
bought sandpaper, a
paintbrush, thinner and
varnish to give them a
make- up.
And Friday was the
assigned day, the day I just
couldn’t bring myself to do
anything. Absurdly, I
debated which was more
urgent, the gutter or the
chairs? A broken gutter
could cost us dearly as the
rainy season was
approaching and the
lackluster chairs were the
source of embarrassment
before our guests.
I even tried to clear my
head by doing a crossword
puzzle but the name of
Napoleon’s mistress that I’d
forgotten crushed my hope
of resorting to this excuse
all together. The entire
morning wasted! All I’d
done was smoke and
monitor the time. >>>>
Jacob
He covered his ears with the palms
of his hands and rose from his
chair tired after writing for hours.
Looking at the pile of papers on his
desk, he threw his pen aside,
massaged his aching fingers and
staggered toward his bed in the
corner. The roaring wind rattled the
window panes. An excruciating pain
radiated through his spine and
while he was whizzing, he wondered
why autumn was not his favorite
season. As he reached his bed, a
muffled voice eerily echoed in his
little room. He moved his face close
to the window and peered into the
darkness and saw nothing but his
own hazy reflection on the glass.
>>>>
He covered his ears with the palms
of his hands and rose from his
chair tired after writing for hours.
Looking at the pile of papers on his
desk, he threw his pen aside,
massaged his aching fingers and
staggered toward his bed in the
corner. The roaring wind rattled the
window panes. An excruciating pain
radiated through his spine and
while he was whizzing, he wondered
why autumn was not his favorite
season. As he reached his bed, a
muffled voice eerily echoed in his
little room. He moved his face close
to the window and peered into the
darkness and saw nothing but his
own hazy reflection on the glass.
>>>>
Welcome to the
Saeed Tavakkol's website
Saeed Tavakkol's website
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| & literature |
Short Stories
Echo
You’re nothing
A pale reflection
Of nothingness is nothing at all
>>>>
Dialog
Am I concerned?
Oh no. No. That’s absurd
I don’t even care
Am I worried?
Hmm. Maybe a little but that’s
normal
Shouldn’t I?
>>>>
You’re nothing
A pale reflection
Of nothingness is nothing at all
>>>>
Dialog
Am I concerned?
Oh no. No. That’s absurd
I don’t even care
Am I worried?
Hmm. Maybe a little but that’s
normal
Shouldn’t I?
>>>>
Girl behind the window
different from where she grew up. The street below was
overrun with the crowd. Tons of young people were gathered
in small circles, passionately arguing. Some held signs,
waving them furiously, heads moved back and forth and
hands cut the air like knives. She’d never seen people that
excited before—what could have made so many people so
angry? She wondered.
She could not read Farsi but recognized the curved letters
with dots in their bellies like pregnant women with triplets.
Letters with mouths half open, hungry enough to swallow the
silent characters sitting innocently next to them and the sharp
blades of others like the sickles peasants used to harvest.
She’d seen them all in books her father read.
The warning from the Center for National Security on the
radio this morning echoed in her head, “Any gathering of
three or more persons on streets is prohibited and illegal.
Perpetrators will be arrested.” She could not estimate the
number of buses required to haul all these criminals to jail. If
people back in America took to the streets so passionately like
this, at least obesity wouldn’t be an issue. She grinned.
>>>>
different from where she grew up. The street below was
overrun with the crowd. Tons of young people were gathered
in small circles, passionately arguing. Some held signs,
waving them furiously, heads moved back and forth and
hands cut the air like knives. She’d never seen people that
excited before—what could have made so many people so
angry? She wondered.
She could not read Farsi but recognized the curved letters
with dots in their bellies like pregnant women with triplets.
Letters with mouths half open, hungry enough to swallow the
silent characters sitting innocently next to them and the sharp
blades of others like the sickles peasants used to harvest.
She’d seen them all in books her father read.
The warning from the Center for National Security on the
radio this morning echoed in her head, “Any gathering of
three or more persons on streets is prohibited and illegal.
Perpetrators will be arrested.” She could not estimate the
number of buses required to haul all these criminals to jail. If
people back in America took to the streets so passionately like
this, at least obesity wouldn’t be an issue. She grinned.
>>>>
Shadow
One gray night
In the corner of cold
Under the light of the absent moon
With a suspicious gaze
Through a window frame
That did not open to anywhere
A shadow
That has never been
Is not
And will never be
In the nick of time
When it passed by
The huge tree of memory
Trying to escape
For a second I saw
One gray night
In the corner of cold
Under the light of the absent moon
With a suspicious gaze
Through a window frame
That did not open to anywhere
A shadow
That has never been
Is not
And will never be
In the nick of time
When it passed by
The huge tree of memory
Trying to escape
For a second I saw
My Beloved!
'What are you exactly?
To me perhaps,
The distant memories
Of a rowdy child.
The Goosebumps I had
In the cold dark cinema
With a frosty Pepsi in my hand.
Or perhaps,
The garlic flavor of bologna
The orange of Fanta
The salt of doogh.
You’re the burning sensation
The sting of punishment
In the palms of my hands
The painful strikes
Of the merciless sticks
For sloppy homework
And being late to school.
You’re the words I misspelled
When I was dictated to.
You’re scattered in the air
In the sweet steam of the baked beets
On the street vendor’s cart.
You’re the stripes of the plastic balls
I kicked as a child.
You’re as dark
As gooey as the melted tar
Stuck to the sole of my bare feet
In the summer heat of Ahwaz.
You’re my classmates
I fought once in a while.
You’re my sore throats
My doctor excuse
My ruthless teachers
In third grade and four
The slap on my face
The excruciating pain
When a pencil was squeezed
Between my young fingers. >>>>
'What are you exactly?
To me perhaps,
The distant memories
Of a rowdy child.
The Goosebumps I had
In the cold dark cinema
With a frosty Pepsi in my hand.
Or perhaps,
The garlic flavor of bologna
The orange of Fanta
The salt of doogh.
You’re the burning sensation
The sting of punishment
In the palms of my hands
The painful strikes
Of the merciless sticks
For sloppy homework
And being late to school.
You’re the words I misspelled
When I was dictated to.
You’re scattered in the air
In the sweet steam of the baked beets
On the street vendor’s cart.
You’re the stripes of the plastic balls
I kicked as a child.
You’re as dark
As gooey as the melted tar
Stuck to the sole of my bare feet
In the summer heat of Ahwaz.
You’re my classmates
I fought once in a while.
You’re my sore throats
My doctor excuse
My ruthless teachers
In third grade and four
The slap on my face
The excruciating pain
When a pencil was squeezed
Between my young fingers. >>>>
