From my wind tower

From the first moment I opened my eyes this morning, I promised myself that I would write today. I thought it had been a long time now that I had not written and had been away from the lovely world of blogger…

But now, almost 2:00 AM, I cannot even keep my eyes open after a long working and walking day! I had a class in the morning and afterward, I walked for hours along the riverside; the thing I usually do on the weekends…Today I just felt like walking, taking some photos and watching those wonderful seabirds seeking for food and dancing with the wind.

My new place is a rather nice one, on the second floor of a tall red building which I call the “Wind Tower”. And the most wonderful thing is my lovely window, which shows me a great view of a large yard, a small garden filled with young trees and of course, a piece of blue-gray London sky.

At night, it’s even more beautiful and calm. Poetry has come back to me, and I enjoy talking to my new and old friends in this small room. I have found an old playmate of mine on the other side of the world and we sometimes review our childhood common memories; it gives me the energy to feel alive again.

Life is calm, and it’s the most cherished thing for me now. I cannot replace this calmness with anything else in the world.

Most of the time, I see the wind waving the green leafs in the air, and I remember my grandma’s words:

“Sing with the wind girl;

Dance with the wind;

But never go with the wind…”

Life is going on; and I want to sing with the wind again; I want to sing all those songs which I had forgotten for a while.

Life is going on and on; and I wish to dance with the wind as much as before…

But I promise you, grandma!

I would never be gone with the wind…

P.S. Besides all those things I have done today, I would like to do something else before going to bed! I want to dedicate this new post to my old playmate; to the memory of all good childish moments we have had together once…

Et tu, Brute?

1.A couple of days ago, my friend invited me to play a game he had already played on his own blog. He thinks every person has some words on their mind and heart which are believed to be once stolen from them. He believes when words lose their actual meaning and become fake, they are stolen from you. I spent a long time on it to play this game fairly. I thought about it for hours and I came to a conclusion at last: I, too, have one word which is highly stolen from me...

2.Legends talk about Julius Caesar, a reformer and a hero whose brutal assassination almost destroyed Rome over two thousand years ago. He came from a poor family and joined the radical party; the party which claimed the support of people and intended to give them back justice and the lands they had once lost. According to his famous statement, he came, he saw, he conquered…
He immediately turned out a powerful conqueror, a hero and a successful leader. However, his triumph in overcoming the enemies and rivals, gave him a sort of monopoly on Roman leadership and the title of “dictator”. As all the stories tell us, rivals cannot stand the success of the reformers and heroes. So they gathered and decided to kill him in the most terrible way possible…

3.My friend says when you trust someone utterly, as far as letting him/her in your life, you put off your defensive shields, and hence you are feeble, not only for losing the shield but also for you never think of being betrayed.

4.The assassins gathered on the floor of the Senate building. When Caesar entered, they attacked him with daggers. Caesar resisted until he realized that, in a terrible act of duplicity, his closest friend Brutus had turned against him.
-“Et tu, Brute?” (You too, Brutus?)

5.We are talking. We are playing a game. I ask my friend to guess the word on my mind; the word which I believe is highly stolen from me. He asks for a clue. I tell him that it starts with T and has five letters…

6.Good night Caesar! Rest in peace and trust.

From London

And here I am, in London.

It’s been always a great pleasure for me to walk and wander and wonder. I have always enjoyed exploring new places on my own. And now, it’s been a couple of days that I am walking and looking at London.

They say the best way to forget and forgive, is traveling; leaving the places and changing directions; facing new people and experiencing new environments…

So to have a change in my life, I decided to take a short trip to London and see if I can get along with the new community to stay and study. The very first day I arrived, I checked out my school and made sure that it was one of the best in England, and then, I tried to deeply know the city.

The city is a museum itself! Everywhere you walk, there is a place to make you amazed. And God knows how lovely these sorts of places are to me! I explored almost half of the city on my own in less than 2 days! “R”, an old friend of mine who has been in London for about four years now, was surprised by my speed in learning things! He says people are normally confused for about two weeks when they first get here; but the very first day you came, you’ve done what I did in one month!

When we first met at the airport after 6 or 7 years, we were both amazed to see different guys! He said that I am totally grown up and changed; and I saw some white hair on his head! But at night when he took me for a long walk within London, and after watching those lovely lights in London night along River Thames, we both got little poetic children again. We both read our old poems and laughed…

A couple of months ago, I bought a new camera and started photography. My friends tell me that I am doing well in this new field. Photography gives me a high pleasure and makes me calm. It is helping me heal…and I have taken over 700 photos in the last two days! I will upload some of them here later…

The only thing that I am having a little bit problem with is the British accent; however I have started to love this funny but very serious accent which makes me laugh sometimes.

God bless you everyone.
This is Parinaz, from the bottom of London city.

Puzzle Pieces

Twenty years ago, on my 6^th birthday, I got a nice puzzle as a gift. It was a picture of a beautiful girl (in my eyes) with blond hair and a red hat in a jungle. It would seem that the girl was singing and happy. It would seem that she was satisfied with the place she was in. Next to her, there were a couple of animals smiling and dancing with her. Also, there was a blue river inside the picture full of happy fish swimming up and down the river.

The puzzle was rather big and ever since the moment I got it, it became one of my greatest pleasures to sit in a corner and piece together its pieces. I loved the girl so much that I was not able to go anywhere without my puzzle. I just couldn’t help carrying it with me…I would like to feel its vivid picture in my hands…

Mom told me something a couple of times: “Take care of its pieces honey! If a single piece is lost, you’ll never be able to fix it again!” .In reply I would smile. I could not even imagine my puzzle pieces lost! In my little mind, it was not possible at all!

But I did not take a good care of it and someday one piece got lost; the piece which included the girl’s smiling lips… I cried the whole week. They searched anywhere possible; but the piece was gone away…

They did their best to fix it with a fake piece; they tried to find the similar puzzle to buy; they even tried to replace the puzzle with a more beautiful one…

None of them worked out.

My blond girl was not happy and smiling anymore; neither was I.

I’ve been in a lot of places in my whole life. I’ve made divers friends in divers places and times. Some of them are still in touch. Some of them are gone. Some of them are far away…

Recently to my greatest surprise I am finding more and more old friends of mine on facebook. And God! They have changed! They have become doctors, engineers, poets, translators and professors! But they have the same lovely smiles on their lips!

The moment I find one of them, I feel a great happiness in my heart. I know it very well that they are my puzzle pieces; the ones that when come together, shape my desired picture of the past. They are each a part of me; reminding me of all those sweet bitter moments I have spent with them…

And I know that if one is lost again, I cannot fix it anymore!

Pray for me mom!

Your little girl is tired of not being happy.

Make our manners the best ones

Every year, with the first signs of spring, I feel something strange flowing in my vessels. I just don’t know what kind of feeling it is; but it sounds that in spring there is something in the air which makes me fall in love again…

Perhaps it is the feeling of rebirth or something; perhaps it is the understanding of life in the nature; perhaps it is only me and my whole tiny world…

Most of my friends say that they believe last year was a bad year and they have lost a lot of good things during this year; but I don’t think we are able to judge it this soon. It takes time to look back and think about a part of your life which is as long as a year; because as they say, things look better from distance.

For now, I am just trying to embrace spring with all my heart. I am going to see my old friends and enjoy my life for a while. I am going to read all those lovely books which I forgot to read and see all those wonderful movies which I should have seen before.

My grandma used to say a nice prayer in the beginning of the New Year and each year I used to seat down next to her and listen to those lovely magic prayers which were come out of her lips smoothly. I never took the chance to ask her what they meant; but when I got older and learned some Arabic, I learned the meaning of that prayer too. The prayer which I believe is the best and the most for human: “Make our manners the best ones.”

Happy new year every one!

I wish you a year at which you will look some years later and see nothing but happiness and luck. And I really hope that our manners changes into better ones and the best ones this year.

Life is going on; and every year with the first signs of spring, I feel something strange flowing in my vessels…

Dr. N’s democracy

Last year of high school, I had a geography teacher who was somehow different from my other teachers. He incredibly looked like Saddam Hussein with the same terrible black mustache. They said lots of things about him and it made him a weird character among us all. They said that he had been a communist for years and that was why they did not let him teach at university despite his PhD degree. They said that he had got divorced and was living all alone. He never talked about his own life and past; but his serious face and deep look would make us believe those school rumors. After years, I still do not know if they were true or not; but definitely his memory will remain in my mind forever.

Although his main duty was to teach us geography, each time he would finish his job in less than an hour and then the class atmosphere would change to a better one: a class of life! He was fond of different discussions about thought-provoking subjects and required us all to involve in the debate. Also, I was one of his favorite students and most of the time he would ask me to read one of my poems or stories to the class loudly. Whenever I started reading, he would close his eyes, keep his head down and smile. It seemed that he was extremely enjoying my writings.

I remember once Dr. N talked about democracy. At that time as teenagers, we did not have a good knowledge of political matters and terms. He started to give us a simple definition of democracy.
- “Democracy is a situation in a community, either small or big, in which people have the ability to respect others’ beliefs and attitudes. They respect the majority’s demands and bear it peacefully. They tolerate the differences…”
When he was talking about that subject which seemed a little bit boring to us, I saw his bitter smile and sad look which sounded terribly deep and highly experienced. I do not remember how long he spoke, but I clearly remember his last words. He had a quick look at his watch and said: “unfortunately today we do not have enough time to listen to one of Parinaz’s poems; but instead I’m going to read you a poesy which may help you with our today’s discussion.”
Then he read that amazing Persian poesy which I will never forget.

Time passes very fast; I cannot believe that this is my weblog’s first anniversary! I don’t know why, but a couple of days ago, Dr. N’s memory came to my mind unintentionally.
After high school, I never saw him again and I do not know when he is now. But I cannot forget his bitter smile and deep look while reading this lovely poesy:

“Lucky is the bird which has never seen a cage;
And luckier is the one which has escaped from a cage!
They cut our wings and opened the cage door
For a bird with no wings, it makes no difference to be free or stuck…” *

*The original Persian version is offered in the comment box.

Birth Declaration

February 22 is my birthday and I turn 26. I am just trying to get used to my new age for the whole next year. Last year was full of sorrow and happiness; full of sweet and bitter memories; full of old and new experiences…
Now looking back on the last year which passed in the blink of an eye, I feel happy, sorry and grateful.

I am happy to have new friends some of whom I’ve never met in person.
I am so happy that I’m still in touch with some of my old friends whom mean a lot to me.
I am happy to have this small virtual home of my own on the net to write my feelings in.

But I’m sorry to cry all those tears for those who never appreciate them.
And I’m so sorry to try to prove my words to those unfair judges who always judge a book by its cover!
And I am so sorry to take lots of precious things for granted.

My grandmother used to tell me to have “giving hands” and a “giving heart”. She used to tell me to pass by all heartless people I might meet and forgive them for everything they do to me. She told me not to be afraid of sad events which come to me; because sad experiences are the gates to happiness…

Today, I am so grateful grandma! I am so grateful to you for giving me all those lovely words which I could never find anywhere else.
And I am so grateful to my heart for standing all sad happenings and unkind people.

It is a custom to receive gifts on your birthday; but to take my grandma’s advice, I’m going to present a gift to all my lovely friends on my birthday. It’s a wonderful song by my beloved singer who has always touched my heart deeply.

Be happy everybody.

I will greet the sun again

As a 14 year old busy girl, my days and nights were filled with poems and stories. I used to read and write almost every day and it seemed impossible for me to get out of that lovely imaginary world; the world which was as big as human’s mind and yet, no one would possibly get lost in it! I had just started to publish my works in the magazines and So I received a lot of letters from editors in reply to my letters.
One day, one of the editors who happened to be my favorite poet, sent me a letter in which he talked about a couple of my poems I had sent them. He said that after some years of being an editor and poet, he had just discovered a young talent whose words and affections reminded him of Forough Farokhzad! At that time, I used to read Sohrab and Fereydoon Moshiri all the time and I had a little knowledge about this passed-away female poet whom they said was an odd woman.
So I got curious to know about her more and it was the beginning of my endless love towards her charming poems.

Only the last blast of flame knows
the bright secret of a candle’s life…

The more I read her poems, the more I felt she talked from the bottom of my heart. I admired her for her being courageous enough to talk about a woman’s feelings and desires straightly; for her vigorous soul to change and alter; for her tolerance to evolve...she fascinated my soul and I believe that after her “Let’s believe in the beginning of the cold season”, no Iranian poet has ever written such a powerful poesy; A poem which you can live a life in its words…

What is silence, silence, silence,
my sole beloved?
Isn’t it just the chant of buried words?
I am mute but sparrows’ words
are about blunt celebration of the world.
Their song is about leaf, flower and flow.
It is about breeze, perfume and birth
Sparrows’ words would die in the deal.

After all I found out that I was not able to make a good poet and instead, I made a good reader to enjoy her words to the fullest…
According to my heart’s calendar, today or a day later is the anniversary of her death which happened in a gloomy snowy day just like she had predicted…

I told my mom: “it is over now”.
I told her: “it always happens when you don’t expect,
We should send a condolence letter to the paper.”

Latika

Today I saw this movie “Slumdog Millionaire”, a film based on an Indian novel “Q and A” which impressed me to the fullest. The first thing that came to my mind before watching the movie, was the typical songs and dances which almost all the Indian movies are filled with. But to my greatest surprise, the movie was another story.

Jamal Malik is a Mumbai Muslim teen who becomes a contestant on the Indian version of the show “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?” and makes it to the final question. While he is an uneducated former street child who has spent all his childhood in the slums, he can answer all of the questions and there is only one more question to get a millionaire. That’s why police gets suspicious and arrests him to know if he has cheated. His investigation night is accompanied by some flashbacks of his past life; the period he reviews to find the answers…

There are lots of things about the movie which have made it a wonderful film among all the good ones I have seen before. Not only me, but also all the guys who saw the movie with me agreed that the story was great. They all said that it is wonderful to show all the miserable moments of such children’s lives in a movie; and the role of Destiny, which has become very bold in the story. They said it was the first time that an Indian movie showed a pure picture of the Indian life.

But at last nobody mentioned the great role of Love in the story: as a kid, Jamal falls in love with Latika, another street child with whom he stays in love to the end; and the reason he takes some risks in the movie and at last, takes part in the show, is only Latika: to find her, save her and keep her! I believe the reason he makes a millionaire at last and wins this great fortune is his true love and faith…two things which are now lost in our lives.

I suggest watching the movie to all those who look for pure feelings and love without conditions…

*Thank you dear Daisy for motivating me to see the movie!

The Bridge

Richard Middleton says:

"When someone hurts you, cry a river, Build a bridge and get over it!".