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Sunday, April 4, 2010

D.L.L

There are significant cultural differences between different tribes in Iran (and elsewhere) in dialects, approach toward life, social behavior etc. and as a Azari, I try to understand that. All comprehendible ,BUT there are some fake ones! Check these out; Pronouncing Navardeboun as Tehrani dialect (remember Dariush song?) , Reading “Loznameh” in the morning while listing to “DIKS” etc etc. Well, we know them all, as Iranians we also can not pronounce some specific words correctly like “Washington” but sometimes we dare to choose the most difficult ones.....Just recently I went to see a cousin of mine, I was suppose to get a tool from her, she was busy at kitchen while I asked her not to forget to give me the “Drill” and she said ok. ..ten minutes afterward she went toward TV and DVD set and asked me “you said you wanted Dream or something?” amazed I said no dear, I asked for DRILL, Oreka in her mind she said ”aaah, you want Delel!” DLL? Delel? What the f…? why ,just tell me why on earth you choose that?

Well, that’s the story of our lives, isn’t it? Why we choose that?

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يادت هست زندگی چه خلوت بود؟ شبها تاريک بود؟ مٌبل راحتی روبروی من هميشه خالی بود؟ نمی دانی چقدر شلوغ شده است، برو و بيا، بريز و بپاش، قرتی بازی، درس، بستنی، سفر، کار، تلفن، ماشينسورای، آبونمان مجلات اقتصادی، خريد و خشکشويی؛ شهر فرنگ را يادت هست؟ همان، تحت ويندوز؛ ولی هنوز هم جای تو خالی است. انگار تمام اين قشقرق و هلهله و هياهو اصلا صدا ندارد، هر چه هست پژواک کمرنگ خاطرات روزهايی است که ديگر برنمی گردند.

Did I...?

Another sip from bottle, no, not like that, not like the good old days , dangling along the clouds of puffs and sipping endlessly of bottle of scotch or vodka, what would be the difference ? Alcohol would do the job…not anymore, just had water, mineral water containing 4.7% sodium and 8.9% calcium….enough to make high on an element of life, to take you back to your boat on the river…to wash away the bad taste in your mouth…

You hardly can hear it…it’s your personal phone, with that weird ring tone” That bitch ain’t part of me, I said no…”, it’s an old friend who tells you he pull aside on the road and started to cry on a song on the radio which reminds him of me….sweet Mary in heaven….he tells you things he shouldn’t have, he reminds of you bits and pieces….that’s cruel, God bless his good soul.

..And it reminds you that you are nothing but an aging fart moving with the speed of light to another world, to come back in misery again ‘cause there’s no “rest in peace”, the game shall begin again.

Midlife crisis ? maybe, but I cannot afford the bloody Porsche, I am left with bad taste in my mouth, oceans cannot wash it away…God bless you my friend but please don’t call me again, you reminded me of good old days, you left the bad taste in my mouth...

I have shown them all

I DO remember talking to a friend, I was trying to maneuver my way around a topic and I have been told to stop bluffing cause they have seem them all …here in 360.

I have not been a very diplomatic man though loved to think so, I have always trembled in pleasure in taking an extra mile in straight talk, I like to think that is so manly…

But I do have a soft side, is my Cancerian sign , my genes (really? Whose genes?) or it’s just me.

I love to share , feel and ….no it’s not Sony Ericsson, it’s just feelings,

who’s there?

The hard way

Trying to sleep ,it is 5 in the morning, I was thinking in my brown Dish Desha under the fake blanket, sweating like shit down under all those cheap artificial material…I was trying to sleep in Ahwaz last night…

You know you got philosophical sometimes in middle of the night , so did I….and I was thinking that I have learn “IT” the hard way…

Teenage hood , as the starting point, stand alone in the crowd, different, in a cheap shit town…alone, didn’t know it is just the beginning..

Falling in love….so easy, didn’t know it is just a few left….time flown….

Starting to smoke, did not know it would take only 18 years and a few months, did not enjoy that much…

Earned my own money…did not know there would a lot, gone ,leaving me smiling ,broke in the middle of the night in Park Way high way under snow (please refer to my previous posts).

Started to understand the music, Batachman turner overdrive, Fog hat, pink Floyd, Bob Seger..didn’t know Sasy Mankan will be an all time favorite quite soon…

Remember a friend told me once “ I am very happy to have you, too thin and in shape…we didn’t know no one will recognize me in few years …..so bald & fat…

I learned to shout & curse, to be a typical manager…did not know my heart will fail me on a smooth raise in voice….very soon..

Learned to cry a lot…did not have the chance to learn that I will forget the last time I cried…what a shame…

Used to live a lot….so carefree, now I look around, very carefully when I am going to turn behind the wheel, so senseless, so framed & flagged. …

The nearby Mosque woke up and started the early show, the whole house lightened up, time to pray, a broken Salath , for a nasty traveler through the time ,he has learned them all the hard way.

دروغهای حقیقی

می گوید جمله بساز...

جمله ای که دو تا "جیم "داشته باشد ..

کمی فکر می کنم

و ناامیدانه

لب می گزم

و دوباره

ناخن می جوم ..

دوستش دارم .

همانطوری ؛با آن چشمها...

که از عسل شیرین ترند

و کهربایی تر.

دستم را می گیرد که دیگر ناخن نجوم.

که نابودشان نکنم..که نابودش نکنم..

نگاهش می کنم با دلشوره ؛

- -"جنون جدید."

- می گوید این که جمله نیست.

- - " جمله نیست.."جیم " که دارد."

- چیزهای دیگری هم هستند که جمله نیستند و جیم دارند.

- حتی صفتهای دیگر.

- و بهترینشان فحشها هستند.

- از آن آبدارهایش.

- که روزی بیست و پنج هزار با ر

- در دلم

- نثارش می کنم...

- و چون صاحب آن چشمهاست ..

- و چون که تنش از گنجشکی که تیر مشقی خورده گرمتر است ...

- و چون که لبهایش ورقلمبیده مثل سنگهای کف رودخانه ...

- خواهرش را ؛

- و مادرش را ،

- تا می توانم به خاک و خون می کشم..

- و دلم خنک می شود.

- و در دلم باد می وزد ..

- بادها در هم می آمیزند و کم کم برگهای زرد و قرمز از جا بلند می شوند.

- طوفان می آید لعنتی ...

- و طوفان با حرکتی ناگهانی ..

- می ریزد توی رانها ..

- توی زانو ..

- و تا به نوک انگشتان پا نرسد ..

- آرام نمی گیرد.

- - حالا چرا " جنون جدید " ؟

- نخواهی دانست.

- نخواهی فهمید.

- تو خیلی زیبایی.

- بسیار هم خوش طعمی .

- طوری که نامت را از یاد برده ام.

- و اغلب،

- آب نبات صدایت می زنم.

- و تو خیلی کوچکی..

- خیلی نادانی ..

- خیلی مستقیمی و

- انتهای عقلت

- تنها

- به سینه هایم قد می دهد.

- و نخواهی دانست..

- و نخواهی فهمید که چرا...

- آدم حسابی ها ....

- باید با " چهارپایه " و " طناب " و " زیرزمین " جمله بسازند...

- و اهمیتی ندارد که " جیم " داشته باشد یا نه .

- و چرا پرتقالها را کوک می کنند ...

- و چرا برایت بهتر است

- تا آخر عمر

- عاشق من باشی