Ideas

I have too many ideas in my head and not enough coherence at the moment..so let me shoot:

1. I all of a sudden had a Eureka moment with this part of this Namjoo song. It's an OK song, geographical determination, not one of the magical ones. It said:
...
That they want nothing to do with you
That they don't let you in their game
That they keep fooling you around
That you have been born in Asia, is called geographical determination
...
I related to this. As a girl from my small town,I really did.

2.I'm thinking about the concept of eastern love vs. Western love. Abbas Milani touched on this concept in his memoirs. To paraphrase, he claimed, Westerners fall in love; we "become" in love. An astute observation, I thought.
I will elaborate on this later; just to not forget, the impracticality and psychological absurdity of this type of loving in this day and age is very interesting to me. Mainly, take this line by Hafiz:

laaf e eshgh o geleh az yaar? Zehi laaf e khalaaf
Eshghbaazaan e chonin, mostahagh e hejraanand!
(Roughly it says: you claim to be in love and complain about your beloved?! Nonsense! Lovers like you deserve to suffer through separation from their beloved).

How would modern psychology deal with this madness? really, isn't it down right abusive?

3. Sometimes, I have subtle feelings that for a strange reason I have associated with masculinity. It, somehow, makes me feel very strong and self confident to have and realize these feelings. An example would be becoming aware of a sexual (and only sexual) attraction in the middle of a mundane conversation. When you are talking to someone and thinking things to yourself that only you know.Things completely irrelevant to the conversation, of course;
Like you think to yourself, I want to just stop him in the middle of his sentence with a kiss on his lips. (or your imagination could take you even further).
I have always been told that " men think very bad thoughts in their heads about women"; "bad" meant sexual! I never really thought it was bad.
But, to have them mself, makes me feel empowered; It makes me feel real, in a strange way.
that is just one small example of the kind of feeling I'm talking about; what was interesting to me was the realization of an association with masculinity I had given these feelings.

All of a sudden, everything made some more sense!

Of Poetry and Madness

Poetry is a big part of my life. It has shaped who I am (and for that, it owes me a big explanation if not an apology). It has formed the way I think about life, love, friendship, honesty, dignity... It has changed the way I talk (and has caused miscommunication in many ocasions : the only thing that comes to my mind is a poem and the person on the other side would not understand it..).
I was telling a friend just recently, that I think I belong to the time where these poems were written; the time when you could afford to sit and write poems and feel your feelings..certainly not modern times.
Haifz is a great man. His poetry is beautiful and thought provoking..It speaks to your heart. There is something about him that you trust. I imagine him as a wise man with a "know it all" kind of a smile, with a glass of wine in his hands..
Molavi (Rumi), on the other hand, is INSANE. The man has what it takes to bring a whole nation to madness. He has jonoon. He is "sheydaa". His language is never as sophisticated as that of Hafiz, but, what he does to the heart is beyond explanation. It touches that harp of madness I have in my heart; it's something I cherish but keep hidden because it's not functional in our time. It's the feeling when you want to move your head and jump up and down and scream with pride of what's in your heart. You want to break, shake, love, chant...
Last night, I let my madness out. I indulged in the madness. I can't explain the feeling. It's just in your heart.

Degar Baare beshooridam, bedaan saanam be jaan e to
ke har badni ke bar bandi, bedarraanam be jaan e to
.....
bikhod shode am liken, bikhod tar azin khaaham..
yek tarafi aabam azoo, yek tarafi naaram azoo...
miaan e khoonam o tarsam ke gar aayad khial e oo,
ze bikhishi khialash ra be khoon e dide aalaayam...

zakhme bezani, zakhme nazani..
eyyyyvaaaaaaaaaaay e man..

Jomleye bigharariat, az talab e gharar e tost
taaleb e bigharaar sho ta ke gharaar aayadat..

Danz, how about this?

It's not you; It's you AND the rest of humanity! There is nothing to be ashamed of my dear. You can indulge in your simpleton-ness forever with no shame.
I will be contemplating affairs of the world in my castle, and ponder on how it would have been had I been like you. It must be fun. Trust me, it's not easy being this complex. It is almost a full time job.

Yours truly,
The complex Galileo of our modern time

Book affairs..

These days, I'm in a poly-amorous relationship with my books. I pick one, become infatuated with it for a short period (dating period) only to find another one to jump to. I have not read a book cover to cover-without interruption- for months now.
BUT, I have enjoyed a variety of great writing! Parallel relationships per se.
Relationships with variety AND quality; now, that's not always easy to find.

I may be jumping from one book to the other. But, there is one that is there to stay, and has been my "sogoli" all along. That, is the old Hafiz book I've had since I was 5 or 6. My very own old and shabby Hafiz.

You know, he is the man I wanted to marry when I was 5. (yes, yes, I was crazy and had strange taste in men even then).

Unrealistic love, maybe, but what can I do? He has said it perfectly himself:

Az hamcho to deldaari, del barnakanam, aari
chon taab kesham baari, zaan zolf e betaab Olaa

Haalat

In Kherghe ke man daaram, dar rahn e sharaab Olaa
Vin daftar e bi ma'ni, ghargh e mey e naab Olaa....
...
Ham sineh por az aatash, ham dideh por aab Olaa

Bay To Breakers!

Today was Bay To Breakers day! A big day in San Francisco..
It was fun. Not to be philosophical or negative, but I constantly felt like nothing more than an observer. Somehow it reminded me of the days I was in a dorm in Berkeley. I had the same exact feeling when we went to "house" parties, or even barhopping. It was the same nerdy-uncomfortable feeling of "I can't do these things" (like I'm too serious for it). The funny thing is that I'm really not. I can be a clown, but not as often or as easily as I'd have liked to. I think Afshean (one of my friends) had the same feeling. He kept telling me that it's not in our culture to let go, but we all need one day to be "all out".
I had a fun day, but there is this heavy thing in my heart that I cannot not write. It really was not that bad, but anyway. I was standing at a corner with another friend (female). A very drunk guy walked by, and all of a sudden, he spanked me and grabbed my ass. Just like that, in the middle of San Francisco.. I felt SO VIOLATED, I can't begin to explain it. There is no point in explaining it anyway. He had done the same thing to my friend apparently. I was speechless. All I could do was to stare at him with eyes that had something like anger in them. He thought he was being very cute. He wasn't. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. I mean, he was drunk and didn't know what he was doing. But it felt horrible. I'm a bit sensitive these days anyway, and I really felt like crying; but of course, I didn't.
It just was bad on many levels. I felt like someone hit me for no reason, and they touched me inappropriately..
Anyway..it was fun besides that. I walked for the entire day, observed democracy fail on a local level(friends)..and had some bad food and good tea.

Now I'm back to my place; with my Hafiz on my bed, and my book ready to be devoured!

Hafiz ( as well as political propaganda) of the day:(some horrible translation, of course)

These days, more bitter than poison, will pass, and again, sugar sweet days will arrive...

Besieged

Touching and pleasing to the eye, this relatively old movie by Bernardo Bertolucci leaves you thinking about subtleties of feelings, beauty of love, importance of when and where you are born..among so many other things.

After watching the film I kept re-singing this Namjoo song in my head:
That you are born in Asia, is called "Geographical Determination".

This has been on my mind for quite a while now. A troubled mind looks at things differently. Many a time, it has happened to me that my interpretation of a situation, a look, or a conversation, has been the most absurd and often bothersome one possible.
After all, I am from Iran; to this day seeing a police car automatically makes me want to lower the volume of my car stereo; fire alarm awakens more than just fear of fire in my heart..

For me, on top of all that, there is a strong feeling of confusion about being female. All it has brought me, and so much I feel it has taken away from me. Limitations I feel like I face; justifications I feel like I owe to everyone. The image I feel I have to embody, and the fear I feel for not being able to live up to it. Fear of being judged for less than who I am by men..coexisting in my head with my own harsh judgment of my fellow women. Love I feel like I can give; chains I feel around my emotions..

Beautiful and painful all at the same time.

All that confusion..and geographical determination!

Update..Kaveh's attention

Baradar jan,
I am reading a book that I think you would like. It's beautifully written, and it gives you a very broad taste of a country that we don't know much about: Spain. I came across it very accidentally. Leeza was reading it, and I just picked it up to see what it was. It's irresistible. For someone like me who is not a big fan of historical books, this one is something different. It's not just history. It's everything. It's called "The New Spaniards". I also have a number of attractive books in my cue. (To name a few: Atonement, I, etc., ).
I discovered some new Music too. (Well, other than Namjoo who is still rocking my world). AND, I did net-flix those two movies; will watch them soon and report.

Inside me, there is a volcano. "man khamoosham o oo dar faghaan o dar ghoghaast"...You know how that goes. I think I may be too involved in my psychological development for my own good. Sometimes I feel like I live inside myself, analyze and study all the time. My brain needs to take it easy; But, I sense that some wonderful realizations are coming my way.

I miss home, and you, and the opportunity to talk freely about everything with you. It sucks that you are not here. In fact, I have a mini-you in my head with whom I talk about new shit that comes up! (Or through whose eyes I see and interpret what happens areound me). I have a mini-amoo shari for whom I read poetry out loud at nights; a mini-baba with whom I make jokes about "Afshin Peyrovani". A mini maman to whom I talk and justify my thoughts or emotions. Sometimes, when we talk on the phone, I feel sad that we are out of context of each others' lives. I mean, we both know enough, but then are too removed to be able to see the subtleties. You know what I mean?
In any case, you are part of my everyday routines, somehow. The other day, I was at Poopak's for a dosage of twin therapy!! I was looking at Holden, and all of a sudden I imagined how you would react to seeing him. With your somewhat clumsy half-smile and your gij way of dealing with kids; doing beeb beeb to his nose or something; just like myself.

Anyhow, I want to keep learning and feel better. I want to become the person I have always wanted to be. I know you do too; but somehow, the inertia and KG thing make me not go forward as fast or as much as I'd like to. I think you are in the same predicament; but at least you have your job. Hopefully, I will too. Actually, I have always envied your sense of self reliance, or at least the appearance of it that you carry around; you come across as being much less dependent on others; or perhaps it's my skewed imagination of how men feel? I don't know..I'm trying to be more like you in this respect anyway.
You know what I miss? Torkan Loo sense of humor on your side, and sharing New Yorker cartoons with you on mine.

oh, and I will give two CD's to Agha Pat to bring for you. Arash's and all the Namjoo songs I have. I'm glad you, too, like Namjoo!!!

kisses,
garne

Ode to child within!

Sometimes, knowing that a few people read these lines makes it much harder to write. I feel like I’m being exposed or being “passive aggressive” about things. Yet, the satisfaction of letting your thoughts fly in the cyber space overrules these fears. The facade of having enough courage to openly talk is too enjoyable to let go of.

Of being a child, I have a lot left in me. I love freely. I can live in my imagination if I'm not bothered. I forgive and forget. I, in fact, reset. A dear friend once said children build and then destroy so easily just to build again; they become all excited and they believe you when you give them a lollypop .At the time, somehow, I was a bit hurt by this last statement, thinking it referred to me being fooled easily. But I have come to realize that that's true. Children don’t really comprehend “no” as an answer, yet they easily move on. They refresh and get up with new energy. A kid hates her brother for bothering her, and the next morning, he is the dearest thing in the world to her. Kids have the, somewhat unreal, understanding and expectation of unconditionally. Kids offer their heart in its entirety with almost no expectation (mainly because they imagine other people’s hearts and minds function just like theirs).
Like Pam's Labyrinth, I live on imagining. I have a parallel world in my head with all the things I like in it. When things get difficult, my child within imagines them away. At times, though, I have to stop and wonder if I'm going crazy or if I'm driving people around me crazy. At times like this I wonder what This guy thought when he said:

Man anaari mikonam daaneh be del migooyam
khoob bood in mardom, daaneh haye deleshan peydaa bood


All this said, the child within doesn’t feel like taking anything too seriously. It’s lovelier that way. Much Lovelier!

Warning, Hafiz style

Agar gham lashgar angizad ke khoon e aasheghaan rizad
Man o saaghi be ham saazim o bonyaadash barandaazim....

But how can I translate this?

Bonnie

I don't know how you spell her name. The way I got to know her was interesting. Energetic and somewhat bizarre, she gave away of herself little by little. She has a boyfriend. She lives in the Marin (She has a friendly smile). Leonard Cohen is her man, along with this guy named David Burns and some obscure English Guitar player. She travels outside of the U.S. just so "She can breathe" at least once a year. she gets excited easily; she befriends quickly;
She got us seats doing the "voodoo" that she do(!)with the waiter..

and then boom, it came:

And clenching your fist for the ones like us
who are oppressed by the figures of beauty,
you fixed yourself, you said, "Well never mind,
we are ugly but we have the music.

She cried.
She said this is "THE LINE". We're ugly, but we have the music.
It touched somehwere deep in my heart, perhaps because of the martinis I'd had..but still. I just felt an overwhelming sense of..empathy, maybe?
I wish there was a way of transferring that atmosphere by writing. I can't seem to do it. Meanwhile, I'm thinking about Bonnie ,Janet and Daniel, knowing Janet will ask herself at some point, what happened to that girl that night?
She's just fine.

Conversation

-You are worth much more. You're selling yourself short.
-But I'm not SELLING myself

Dance and Cheese!

I woke up this morning with a sweet memory of a beautiful dance to this song. Drunk on wine, and high on dance..

Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
....
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now

Make me thrill as only you know how...