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March 25, 2006

Of your world

-Of your world I like praying, perfume and women. Good choices there, we all have our favorites, mine is-- of this world I love parenting, being a husband, a lover and praying. So New year , Persian New Year, has come and gone. HAPPY NOROZ

We are still partying, already have been to two events with the wife and kids, and on the second one, we danced so much we were sweaty by the end of the night. My new suite, shirt and tie were drenched, I was wet all over the way one should be. Like everything else that I do, I do dancing to the extreme too. And still after all these years I can move my girlish figure better than any man. I remember my Mom used to tell me, Javad , dance like a man. I don't, I dance like me, and shake my booty all over the floor. Marjan had her shots of Vodka, Gray Goose of course, and she was feeling no pain. She has come a long way. When we first married she used to stand by and watch me dancing with all the girls, then she started to warm up to the idea of dancing and now, sometimes she stays at the parties long after I take the kids home and she dances. She has become a wonderful dancer, of course with a teacher like me................................................

I have written many poems lately, the newest one, _My Love has gotten many wonderful reviews at Poets. com. Of course over there, most every one except Metal, think I am a women, I have a few men that have crushes on me, or at least my Poems, and a few women that do think I am a Lesbian. eh, that's fun, changing skin. the other day I told my beautiful daughter how I would be so much like her if I was born a woman. though she is much prettier than I would have been, having a lots of Marjan's delicious genes in her. living with two pre busant kids is a riot.. There are many questions and I am always happy to answer, Amin is more shy about it, but KIana, she is our little devil.

I think I should start writing a new book, I had such a wonderful time when I was in process of writing my last one. It was heaven, I am best when I am not here, but out there some where in the world of fantasy and dreams. Here I feel like an imposter all the time, but there I am at ease, in my elements and fluid. Next week I am seeing Doctor B for lunch, she had a great trip to Venezuela and has finished her third book. I am so jealous of her. she is living the life, I always envisioned myself living.

Summer should be here soon

Posted by Idinraha at 03:10 PM | Comments (1)

March 12, 2006

Bohemian Rhapsody

Driving up 95 North, already into my third beer, Freddie Mercury is shouting BESMELLAH, and I think, if he was alive there would be a Fatwa on his head. And all the tensions of living here, at this times in this age, I have had enough of UAB and the Ports, all the bickering, who is right and who is wrong, and does it really matter. Then I remember - For Evil to be victorious, we only need good men to be quiet and not to care. Am I a good man ? I ask myself, What is all this commotions, no, not yet, I am not going there, the meaning of life and all. Its an old...........

Four weeks of Pneumonia, Doctor told me I should rest, and I thought of John Malkovich, screaming, IT's my head, my head. and thought , nah, no rest there, and you have to move , not to become a target. Anti Biotic's make me depressed, and that's all I need, more Black clouds. Don't Stand so close to me, Sting is singing, and I thought about that old Woody Allen Movie, when he woke up and he was living in future, no we wont stand so close to each other, this is the age of Isolation, the age of separation and alienation, and of course Appetite............

-Thou shalt eat, but would not be satisfied, Thou shalt consummate, but it would not go forth. Well the trains are never on time, and we are always going somewhere, I have a hard time standing still, I am catching up with something, MY LIFE. I guess once we brought Armageddon upon ourselves, we can not complain that He had not warned us. It would get worse before it gets better. Hamid came to see me the other day, he finds some solace in talking to me, and he has the most developed case of the intelligent man getting disillusioned with his life, and he is a rug man too. But with him it's different, like me he loves old rugs, and when I see him I warn myself, Javad be careful, he can get away with it since he is rather good looking and has managed to stay alive, with two wives, and three sons, Wow

He has brought me his note book, which he has filled with beautiful Hafez and Mollana poetry, and he reads me some, while we smoke, and talk. unlike my other colleagues, with him we don't talk rugs, we talk poetry and today the subject is politeness, and how Hafez has made so much emphasis on polite ness. The words are mesmerizing and they are used to such delicious efficiency, it gets me high. I like our conversation and we are such apposite in our political and social beliefs that we try not to talk politics, I take Hafez and Mollana any day over these whores in Washington. I always enjoy hamid, we both take Paxil, actually in my business, most my colleagues take Paxill. Its the sign of all the failed ambitions of us the Brown Natives that have been boxed in the paradox of displaced men who can not forget.

I start another prayer under lips, while listening to the hard rock of AC DC, and sipping my beer, boy oh boy, if they could see me now multi tasking, I sure am talented, satisfying all my urges and fears all at the same time while self medicating myself. I used to be a very proper man, I think that was what my wife loved about me, I was a very polite man, with a darling body language of all the right poses and moves, and then life happened. I used to hate the taste of beer when I was young, I was fond of the quiet submission of wine, and the shapely glass I drank them in. Things change, remember

I thin the biggest disappointment of Humanity is that we do not learn, we make the same mistakes, and follow the same urges while knowing all the time that we are asking for it. And we are asking for it so badly these days. There is a fine line there that we have crossed so long ago, and I wonder why is God so patient with us. I wouldn't want his job. nah, I am way too lazy and emotional for that job. I have found myself to be more of a hermit since my business started to decline a few years ago. It's not healthy, I know, but most people I know are so boring, talking the same things, over and over again, just like me. I think I have found my footing and my business has established a bit. They were changes that had to be made and I was too comfortable and reluctant to change, but the changes are made now, I have a different business model, and have shed many of my debts, traveling light.

Well the spring is around the corner, we have had a few sixty degree days, and I will go on..... I am an Island, with no harbor, siting in a thick fog, wollowing in the salty water of the ocean, I am secluded, left of my own wishes. They say no man is an Island, but I think, more than anything or anybody, we live and die within ourselves and this ever lasting silence of the age. Thank God for colors, for ever changing nature of this geography, of this spread of land and oceans that lives simultaneously with us, as it goes on. No artist could have portrayed such a background for this tapestry, such delicious array of colors, weaving and moving, from the reds to greens, and ambers, gold and purples, and yet we do not see it, we do not....................

THERE IS NO GRACE LEFT IN THIS BUSINESS, I told the stubborn customer the other day. they are so vulgar in their demands, so shameless, but we have no one to blame but ourselves. Only if we get to be satisfied with less, we could survive with less, It is the embarrassment of the riches, and the ignorance of the fools. I am fasting these days, physically and emotionally, body and soul, I am trying to see how much less I can be satisfied with. I am a man lingering on the edges of himself .............

Posted by Idinraha at 11:04 AM | Comments (3)

March 03, 2006

At night..........................

At night as I lay to sleep, as my body sinks in the comfort of my bed, and my eyes closes, inside my head I travel. I have been blessed by Photographic memory, blessing that at times could hurt me, as it does. Sometimes it is good to forget.

I go back to where I was born, my town, Tehran. And amazingly I see everything in such a detail, I could breath the air, and fill my lungs with the scents of my town .I could walk along side of Pahlavi, by the green trees, mostly on the right hand side, going up town, Passing by Foroshgah Bozorg, and watching the people across the street, some walking some standing by the ticket counter to get their tickets to see a Movie. Further up I see where I had my first Rendezvous with that girl Nahid> I had met her in my English class, and we had a date to go see a movie. I was probably Fifteen, looking older than my age. We walked to Shahreh Farang Cinema, and inside the movie theatre we held hand, and what a treat that was.

I used to go to the movies a lot, mostly by myself, Shareh Ghesseh Cinema was my favorite destination. It showcased the more artistic movies. the kind that made me wonder, and quench my curiosity, after ward, I would walk along the Argentin street, going home, while in my head, I went over every scene of the movie I had seen, every frame. I remember a snowy day, when I got a ride from a man, and we had a nice talk about how snowy days make people kinder. I got off at Afar street where we lived, and walked the rest of the way.

I can see Choob's house in my head. I remember the day no one was home and he did not have his key, so he climbed the two story wall and got in through the upstairs. Once inside the foyer, it was dark, and cool. we always ended up in the kitchen and soon we were munching trough the left overs, and bread and butter and Jam. we sat at the booth in the Kitchen and it seemed everything was all right with the world. If his mother was home, she never used to come down from upstairs. I used to know most of the mothers of my friends, but I could never hook up with Choob's mother> she was distant and cold.

I think what's disturbing to me, may be I should not used that word, not really disturbing, it's the clarity of these visions, how I see the details, the scents, the lighting, inside my head. Last night I was thinking, it's been thirty years since I have been in my town. That is a life time. And its the difference of the realities of these times, where I live and where I have lived. Choob always tells me that as a young man, I did not give a damn about many things that were important to the other kids, I don't know. All I remember is the feeling that I had, so misplaced, so foreign, and how my moods changed. I was not friendly to many people, and was a bit of snub, and feeling like an imposter on top of that, I don't know how I survived my teen years. There was so much I wanted and so much seclusion I needed. I think one of the things that attracted me to Choob, was the fact that he was so very different from me. IT IS WHAT IT IS, he always said, Oh, WHAT COULD IT BE, I said.

I think in many ways, my wife has the same effect on me, she is much more factual than I am. She is much simpler than I am, in many ways, she is much more Choob. She grounds me, she is mky way inside. MY connection to this world and the only person in my life that is more real than any thing. She is my prize, my claim to all the bounties of earth, and more than anything, my relationship with her is what holds me and centers my life.
I never expected her being in my life, and still once in a while as she is sleeping I find myself looking at her and wondering. I guess I must have done something good sometimes, to deserve her.

Isn't it funny, I am writing about my life and the two names mentioned so far, is Choob, and my wife. You know I never thought I deserved Choob either, but that's me. I have not seen him in thirty years and the largeness of that number frightens me. The fact that it has been thirty years, and it has passed so quickly, its mind bugling to me.
Mehrnoosh, one of my friends told me a few years ago, YOU SEE TOO MUCH, and YOU LOVE TOO MUCH. Maybe I do, but I can't change it.

I was thinking the other day, that the only real day in any ones life, is the day they die. That is the only present day that would not become a yesterday. ON that day, he or she would see everything again in his or her head. A life lived, and remembered, and how fast and how mercilessly deliberate. STOP THE WORLD, I WANT TO GET OFF
That was the most popular mantra a few years ago. Showcasing how we become the victims of time, and its rotation, no control, days pass and nights are slept away. It is like being in a crowd and led away, out of control, I don't know, maybe it is my depression talking, but many a times that is how it feels.

Last time I saw my mother I noticed she is getting old. I remember how beautiful she was, and in many ways she still it. Maybe I should say, I remember how young she was, and more than anything I remember her thick silky hair, and her porcelain skin. She is till gracefully and elegant, and has the sweetest smile, she is my mother, and although I do not see her as much as I want to. I do love her and she knows that. SO now there are three people in my life.
My mother, my wife, and Choob, the friend I have not seen in thirty years. eh, and of course the other two delights of my life, although they are the future of my life, they carry parts of me with them toward a forever, My son and my daughter. Parenthood is such a rewarding state. I look at them and wonder, I look at them and my heart beats faster, How I have come to have such privilege, the brown native me, how.

There are other dear friends, other relatives, but these five have the starring role in the comedy of my life. They are the reality of my life.

Posted by Idinraha at 03:17 PM | Comments (2)