Monday, August 31

A broken heart

A Hymn to God the Father

Heare mee, O God!
A broken heart
Is my best part:
Use still thy rod,
That I may prove
Therein, thy Love.

If thou hadst not
Beene sterne to mee,
But left me free,
I had forgot
My selfe and thee.

For, sin’s so sweet,
As minds ill bent
Rarely repent,
Untill they meet
Their punishment.

Who more can crave
Then thou hast done:
That gav’st a Sonne,
To free a slave?
First made of nought;
With all since bought.

Sinne, Death, and Hell,
His glorious Name
Quite overcame,
Yet I rebel,
And slight the same.

But, I’le come in,
Before my losse,
Me farther tosse,
As sure to win
Under his Crosse.

Ben Johnson (1573-1637)

Friday, August 28

Do I offend you? Good!

Bridging the gap between you and I, my dear fellow Iranians, is a TRY of all tries.
We no longer know one another. We are different. Why, you think we are not?! Well, think again.

I am here. I packed my bags years ago and left. Not a word was uttered; you didn’t even notice my absence. And years later, when I unpacked my bags, you did not notice it, again. But later on, when the reality hit, you did turn sour. It seems as if I have never Been what you wanted me to Be. Do I count for anything?

But, of course, you are always right. How could I be trusted? You can’t trust me, because the “likes” of me have stung you twice over, but was it my fault?
I understand you, I even sympathize with you. Yes, in my heart, I don’t blame you. Yes, I left the only Home I’ve ever truly loved, but what other choice did I have?

Yes, I saved my life; it was my only chance to live it! But, why are you so upset?
“Give it up, you stupid coward,” you shout, and I will not heed. I am far from being stupid, and you know that! I am only an image of you, my dear fellow. And, you need to UNDERSTAND THAT, for your own good.


Thursday, August 20

The Berg

A Dream

I saw a ship of martial build
(Her standards set, her brave apparel on)
Directed as by madness mere
Against a stolid iceberg steer,
Nor budge it, though the infatuate ship went down.
The impact made huge ice-cubes fall
Sullen, in tons that crashed the deck;
But that one avalanche was all—
No other movement save the foundering wreck.

Along the spurs of ridges pale,
Not any slenderest shaft and frail,
A prism over glass-green gorges lone,
Toppled; nor lace of traceries fine,
Nor pendant drops in grot or mine
Were jarred, when the stunned ship went down.
Nor sole the gulls in cloud that wheeled
Circling one snow-flanked peak afar,
But nearer fowl the floes no jar.
Nor thrill transmitted stirred the lock
Of jack-straw needle-ice at base;
Towers undermined by waves—the block
Atilt impending—kept their place.
Seals, dozing sleek on sliddery ledges
Slip never, when by loftier edges
Through very inertia overthrown,
The impetuous ship in bafflement went down.

Hard Berg (methought), so cold, so vast,
With mortal damps self-overcast;
Exhaling still thy darkish breath—
Adrift dissolving, bound for death;
Though lumpish thou, a lumbering one—
A lumbering lubbard loitering slow,
Impingers rue thee and go down,
Sounding thy precipice below,
Nor stir the slimy slug that sprawls
Along thy dead indifference of walls. 1888

Herman Melville (1819-1891)

Wednesday, August 12

Life and Despair

“The lot of a man who sees life truly and thinks about it romantically is Despair. How well we know the cries of that despair! Vanity of vanities, all is vanity moans the Preacher, when life has at last taught him that Nature will not dance to his moralist-made tunes”.
(The Preface to CAESAR AND CLEOPATR: “Better Than Shakespear”. Bernard Shaw)


Tuesday, August 11

The Humourist

Let me hear the jokes of a nation and I will tell you what the people are like, how they are getting on and what is going to happen to them.”

My Remarkable Uncle: Studies in Humour. 1942 Stephen Leacock (1869-1944)

Saturday, August 8

Our hope!

Weeks after the Presidential election in Iran, still the nation is suffering from the aftermath of Ahmadinejad’s presidency. Apparently, the whole system has gone mad! The Vali-e Faquih (Khamanei) gave the president, his son-in-faith, a very cold shoulder. Every one gasped. What, the Basij is now the Supreme force! Excuse me, did we miss something?

The Revolutionary guard, Sepah-e Pasdaran-e Enghelab-e Eslami, did not plan this, the Hardliners did not plan this, and the Supreme Leader did not plan it. But, apparently Rafsanjani and Khatami’s connections were aware of the procedures, or did they do the dirty job? How much of the truth is embedded in dirty lies?

On the other hand:
There is a serious lack of leadership amongst the real opposition, the people of Iran. Without a great leadership no effort can be made into the making of a progress, let alone bringing down a regime that has been backed by the will of the Free World.

But, who is there to trust? The infamous intellectuals, scattered around the globe, receiving honours and titles from here and there? No, sir, thank you. They better do what they ought to do, which is keeping away from making political decisions for profit.
Do we trust another man-of-god, even for a second, to lead us through this difficult phase? Think twice before you answer this one!
How about those who helped established the regime and are now in the service of those who invested in the regime? Think trice before you answer this one!

Our only hope:

We’d better understand that timing is every thing. Simple, I know, but the greater realization of the concept demands a greater collective thinking, that can be translated into efforts. Self-sufficiency, that’s another task. Are we ready to learn the tricks? That’s a question worth a nation’s freedom! And trust in each other’s goodness? Yes, we need to trust each other. We need to know that we are broken, we are divided, and we cannot do a darn thing if we continue like this!

There, I said my thing.


Wednesday, August 5


Gustav Klimt

A subtle chain of countless rings

The next unto the farthest brings;

The eye reads omens where it goes,

And speaks all languages the rose;

And, striving to be man, the worm

Mounts through all the spires of form

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)


Saturday, August 1

This is me, deal with it!

I am the one who knows how much I like to see my own people, the people of Iran, free from the grip of the Islamic Evil. But, I will not (not even for a second) put my fate and trust into the care of those who have, either directly or indirectly, helped with the laying of a foundation for the establishment of an Islamic Republic in Iran. Especially I am weary of those, who have now one foot in Freedom land, while keeping the other one on the Islamic ground. I despise those who thrive on deception, manipulation, and betrayal.

I cannot and will not trust the unworthy, and who can blame me for my disagreement with the very deeds of a certain number of Freedom seekers such as Shirin Ebadi and Akbar Ganji, or their likes? I cannot, and will not, wash my hands in my people’s blood, just as I cannot support those who have, either knowingly or ignorantly, hijacked a nation’s security and Independence with a certain malice that is beyond any reason. I protest loud and clear against their shameless existence.

You can brand me as whatever you like, but you cannot accuse me of being a bigot.