Paris Sans Romance

We were choosing a place to meet and he said "let's go to Paris". Oh I laughed. The choices were Black Bear's Diner, a Mexican place, and the Paris Bagguete Café. The rest is history.

Now I'm sitting here waiting for my old colleague to arrive, he is late. Apparently his clock stopped in the middle of the night. And I don't mind. I got my latte and sat down blogging. Reflecting that funnily enough we had been to Paris together before. We flew into Frankfurt and then Copengahgen, Odens, and finally Paris and I was 5 months pregnant. That was a trip!

Looking out the window there is no reminder of that Paris. Oh how I long for a European vacation. Yet here I am. At Paris Bagguette, waiting and logging.

The Souvenir

Made myself a cup of coffee and absentmindedly brought the mug back to my office, set it on a coaster beside a pencil holder made of shells, another coaster made of woods, and beneath a devil's eye.  Suddenly I noticed them all being souvenirs from far away places and long ago "friends".

The force of the time and necessities of lives had set us apart, me and those friends of the past.  I think about them occasionally still.  With some I have occasional communications, sending a congratulatory note for the birth of a new baby or for their birthday.  With some however, there seems to be nothing else to be told.  And it hurts.  Then I paused in the middle of that thought.  Do I want to be reminded of them, day in and day out, by using their souvenir around the office?  Well of course I thought.  They used to be a friend.  Kind enough to bring me a gift and dear enough for their gift to be treasured.  Yet a nag came back up: were they a friend still?  Surely not.  So whom did I want to be reminded of?  A person in the past who nonsexist now, or the person they were today who was not a friend, or anybody for that matter.  Just a person like any other millions of people out there. Except all the reminders about them pushes the dagger in my heart ever so slightly but surely.

I look at the souvenirs again.  All authentic and pure in their presence yet hurtful at some level with a reminder.

This hurt is a new experience for me.  Fresh.  Foreign.  Ferocious. Unjust.  I know this is not how I live my life.  I know I will get over this one too and will let my heart heal.  In due time.  With or without a souvenir reminder.

Magazines

I rarely buy magazines and there is only Working Mom's magazine I have a subscription for, thanks to my M.  Yet I find myself gravitated toward them. I think what I like about them is how they stay in ones hands (ease of use?) and variations. There are a variety of reading to choose from based on ones interest and need. They are mainly repetitive after a couple reads but sometimes there are novel stuff found too.  Now spending some time on the library it's good to catch up with some sneak peaks.

Good People

Suddenly there are a few good people in my life. Some long-ago friends, some briefly-met acquaintances, some professionals, some service providers, some innovators, some pure helpers no strings attached. I came home fully satisfied with my daily interactions, alhamdolellah! World is still full of good people!

15

The picture is fading; I was watching it yesterday. There are fading colors on the edges and tiny eroded spots on the wood it was printed on. It has moved several times after all, from home to home, from country to country, cities and towns, year after year.  It has weathered.

And so have we.

Fifteen years ago.  First kiss. First dance.  All new and fresh.

Fifteen years after. Several kisses after. Several dances after.  All so familiar and second nature now.  Easy to forget.  Easy to get used to.

Yet we didn't get used to it.

We lived. Life was beyond moments to be watched passing. Life was to be experienced. Refreshed. Renewed. Even in the most dull moments, even when our hearts grew distant, even when life got us too occupied.  We continued refreshing, experiencing, walking closer rather than apart. We spoke and we heard rather than becoming silent sufferers of a contract.  We mended and attended.  We paused and assessed.  We preserved.  So we renewed to "us".

I'm proud of us and the fading picture too. Hope to watch it weather for ever!

Happy 15th Anniversary my M!

Lemme

"Now if I can't be your hotdog lemme be your little weiner

Baby if I can't be your regular man lemme be your in betweener

And if I can't be your human torch lemme be your submariner

Well hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'

Yeah If I can't be your Abercrombie bitch lemme be your five and tener

If I can't be your all-the-time lemme be your now-and-thenner

And if I can't be your now-and-thenner lemme be your you-tell-me-whenner

Mmm hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'

And if I can't be your datenut bread lemme be your soda cracker

And if I can't be your boom-a-dee boom lemme be your clickity clacker

And if I can't be your seven-course meal lemme be your midnight snacker

Yeah baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'

Yeah if I can't be your lovey-dovey lemme be your flirty-flirty

And if I can't be your orchestra lemme be your little hurdy gurdy

And if I can't be your Mr Clean lemme be your Mr Dirty

Oh hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somthin'

Hey if I can't be your Sunday man lemme be your Monday action

Yeah well if I can't be your big big show lemme be your coming attraction

And if I can't be your coming attraction lemme be your momentary satisfaction

Yeah well hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'

And if I can't be your bombardier let me be your tail gunner

If I can't be your serious love lemme be your just-for-funner

And if I can't be your big collision lemme be your hit-and-runner

Yeah well hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'"

Read more: Shel Silverstein - Lemme Be Somethin' Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Chocolat. Again.

The North Wind blew but this time she decided to stay.  The gipsy chocolatier stayed to use her knack for people's favorites. "What do you see" as she span the magical plate and I wonder what I would see, what she would guess for me, what my favorite would be.

First time I watched the movie in Toronto in a cinema I found the Chocolat in Santa Cruz. Surprisingly this time, watching it by myself at home in Los Gatos, I have a feeling that it's going to reveal itself to me in another place, this favorite adventure of mine, the Chocolat.

http://m.imdb.com/title/tt0241303/

Curious Case of A Friendship

Once upon a time there was a friendship that ended unexpectedly, abruptly, unfairly. I told the story of the last rendezvous that never happened to another friend recently. She concluded immediately that it was a one way relationship, that I was the one holding on, that I was the only party keeping the candle of our friendship light.

Now in this sunny day in Indiana driving among the flat terrains and farmlands, I'm pondering on my relationships, of my friends near and far. Of those who are always there for me; and wondering if there is one that I'm the only one who is holding on. The one committed, always there. That I have been pulling along single handedly... Wondering that if I stopped pulling then would we find the connection nonexisting?

Indeed. No single relationship is perfect. Not all friendships are real. And indeed, it would be a shame to make a mistake twice.

Pumas in Rain

Got back to my hotel room soaking wet.

It was a warm cloudy evening. My manager and I had planned to meet in the lobby at 7pm and decide about dinner. I had about four hours till then. I called home, then took a short nap, worked on a couple reports and finally left the hotel around 5:30 to buy a new pair of light compact neutral sneakers for business trips. I first selected a pair of socks and then tried a few sneakers. Was hoping to buy Reebocks. They were my favorites in high school but there was only one pair available and I not appealing to my liking. At last picked my first pair of Pumas. Light, compact, neutral color. Got back in time to leave them in my room and meet my boss in the lobby just two minutes before 7. He was always always before time. In his very polite manner he "suggested" "shall we try hotel restaurant?" I agreed with a smile relieved from duty of yelping a good dinner place close by. After dinner which was heirloom tomato saad with salmon I declared that I needed to go for a walk. He declined so we said good nights and I headed to the parking lot. Four wide rows of parking. I headed toward the main road but when I heard footsteps behind me I immediately changed my mind and decided to stay within the hotel area, walking between the parking rows for 30 minutes. At 28th minute it started raining dampening my face and arms with pleasantly warm drops. What a fresh sense for a water deprived Californian!  Got my Pumas inside before they got soaking wet.

I think I have a decision.

Why don't I Quit

?

Night

Here is the night that is better than a thousand nights. The night that the Angels decend from the heavens and hear our every whisper of longing and desires and prayers. Here is the night that we are forgiven and provided a fresh opportunity to build our selves and our being.

Here is the night and I'm traveling the skies, literary, heading to yet another conference for work. I read the prayers for the night first, all by myself, from a book a friend had gifted me 15 years ago, written in Arabic with Persian translation. The ladies beside me never asked what it was I was reading. Then I wrote in my notebook and summed my prayers even though I knew God knew them all. Then took out my new Leadership Challenge book. Read a couple chapters, highlighted several lines, and jot down a few thoughts. Finally, I took out the Greek Salad I had taken on board with me and ate it while reading my book, the Wild, on my iPhone. The worlds of each of these books enormously apart and infinitely close.

Here comes the midnight. The dawn of a new day. The hopes of a new beginning. And the deep deep desire of being united with my loved ones. Far but close.

Yaa Noor

Departure

One more time, time to say goodbyes. Alas, despite several practices already, it doesn't get easier but harder.

Too tired and sarrowful to write more. Just that I don't feel ready to leave yet. I didn't get to see them long enough. And this time I feel nothing awaits me upon return except for the usual: loneliness, work, and missing. 

And So It Has Been

I can absolutely live here. Happily too.

I'm glad I got to experience life in different parts of this land. I believe that is the very reason I appreciate life here, in Iran, with my families.

It's not easy. It's not hard either. There are hardships like the dust, and I'm grateful the smog is negligible now thanks to better gasoline available now. There is challenges like the traffic and I'm grateful for the thoughtful ads around the city re-educating the public the basics of driving laws like driving between the lines. There is tough situations like the hot weather of the summer and the mandatory covers for us women but there is a variety of choices to choose from.

Above all, I'm grateful for the love of family. Oh yes there are discussions of heated kind sometimes and there are hurtful situations. Yet, this is family after all. The closeness and love are unsurpassed anywhere in the world.

Of course M doesn't agree with me.

I think about this land from an observer from abroad. I wonder what one sees, what one perceives. I hope the beauty prevail!

My Home

At this moment in time Iran might seem closed to the world, might not be as orderly and clean as most touristic places are, and might be perceived more an unsafe place to visit than an exotic destination.

Yet I think at the grand scheme of the history, this is only a fleeting moment. I think the routed culture of kindness and hospitality and the grounded glory will prevail at last even though it might seem covered under the dust of forgetfulness. I believe that the seemorgh, the Phoenix of the wises, will reborn one more time, open her wings, and sweep this land from the dust of forgetfulness; when beauty and kindness will sprout again, everywhere.

This is my home. A standing grounded land that will forever be. God bless this land of Persia!

شايد كه در اين برحه از تاريخ، ايران كشوريست بريده از دنيا، منزوى و تنها، شايد همواره با نظم و تميز جلوه نكند، و شايد براى جهانگردان جايى نا أمن دانسته شود تا كهن و شگفت انگيز، آنچنان كه شايد. 

وليكن من فكر ميكنم اين لحظه از تاريخ در قرنها و هزاره هاى تاريخ بشر لحظه اى گذرا بيش نيست. آنچه من در بطن اين خاك ميبينم روح زيبايى، مهمان نوازى، و ايمان و شكوه واقعيست، گاهى پنهان شده در غبار فراموشى.  من فكر ميكنم روزى ميايد كه سيمرغ، اين ققنوس داناييها، دوباره از خاكستر اين خاك برخواهد خواست، بال خواهد گشود، و غبار ياس و فراموشى را از كوى و برزن اين بام خواهد زدود. آنهنگام زيبايى و مهربانى در جاى جاى وطن جوانه خواهد زد.

اينجا موطن من است. سرزمينى ايستا و ريشه كرده در تاريخ هويت بشر. من اين خاك را دوست دارم. خداوندا بر اين خاك بركت فرست! آمين!

 

The Pain in My Heart

Here comes the tornado, weak, short, and dirty.

Here comes the dust, challenging the light of the Sun, and winning it over too!

Here comes the heat, savage and scorching.

Then appears the river. Thirsty, cracked, and dried. Broken under the savage of the thief of water. 

I remember the fist rainbow I saw when I was a child. I remember the blue sky and fluffed white clouds. I remember the pressure of the water between the pillars of the bridges, heathy and reviving.

I cannot believe my eyes!

گردبادى از دور ميايد. آهسته و بيجان و كوتوله اما زشت و بدخواه.

گرد بر ميخيزد و جلوى خورشيد قد علم ميكند. چون آن مگسى كه در عرصه سيمرغ تاخت گرفته است. و عجبا كه پيروز ميشود بر فروغ خورشيد! آفتاب كم سو شد!

بعد گرما ميايد. داغ و ظالم. 

بعد رودخانه ظاهر ميشود. تشنه. خشك. ترك خورده. دلشكسته از سنگدلى دزد آب.

باورم نيست اين همه خاك را و آسمان خاكى رنگ را. يادم هست اولين رنگين كمانى كه ديدم در همين تهران بود.   آسمان آبى بود با ابرهاى پنبه اى سفيد. آبى كه خروشان بود در همين رودخانه خشك. زنده و زاينده. 

دريغ است ايران كه ويران شود

اگر ايران بجز ويرانسرا نيست

من اين ويرانسرا را دوست دارم

و قلبم در سينه فشرده ميشود ازين منظر معشوق طناز من كه زار و خسته شده، بيرمغ و نااميد!  دل بيمار شد از دست رقيبان مددى!

Take Me Home

I doubt myself. Again.

I know I identify myself by work and define my goals based on career. I know I can do it. I know I have a vision that most people I know don't and I'm helping improve lives by sharing that vision. I like what I do. I even welcome the challenges it brings.

Yet I doubt myself. 

I wonder if the price I'm paying, the toll of long distance travels, the sleepless nights, the strain on my body, the agony in my heart, the longing to feel my kids in my arms, is worth it.

I can identify myself outside of work.

I can be a stay at home mom. 

I can study and run during the day if m is at daycare, hopefully part time, and cook and bake in the afternoon.

I wonder if it would be feasible to keep the house though. I won't have the budget for my MBA. We won't be able to afford many classes for the kids.

I just want to be home. 

Conversation

I just had a very successful conversation with a 9 year old who suddenly sounded like an adult!

I was driving to the airport. It was a Sunday morning. I dreaded the trip for as long as I was assigned. I missed my little m's feel when I hold her in my arms. I missed the unwashed smell of my son's hair already. I felt bad for my M with all the pressures of being a single parent for 5 days.

I called home.

A picked up. He told me gleefully that he was searching on Amazon for his Apple Mini but the one he found within budget came with a black keyboard. I wondered if indeed there weren't any with white keyboard within budget. He said there were but they were cordless and he wanted corded types. No wonder I thought. Corded ones were older versions I assumed and hence just in black. I recommended considering cordless to which suggestion he noted "but if one thing goes wrong with your cordless keyboard your whole system would go down".  I affirmed the logic and added that I assumed because we were discussing Apple products they might have figured out how to extend the life of a cordless keyboard. I agreed that there was less risk involved with a corded type but I preferred more innovative cordless types. He acknowledged but didn't change his opinion. Then I recommended us going to Apple Store after I got back from my buisiness trip and us from the vacation that followed but he said with a two day delivery he could receive his order before our upcoming vacation. I laid a scenario how he would hardly have a day to utilize his new purchase if he ordered he next day while the other scenario would give him an excuse to go to Apple Store and hopefully get the most appropriate system for his needs and within budget. In fact he has been saving for this since Persian new year and he has done a nice job with it I must say.

At this point he put me on hold and came back a few second after announcing that he gave a thought to my suggestion and thought it was a better plan providing him still with the whole summer to play with his Apple Mini.

I just had a very grown up conversation with my most favorite 9 year-young in the whole entire world and time!!

Sags Rock!

A line to remember on a rainy day: " Be your optimistic self, dear Sagittarius. It is your most lovable quality and draws others to you like moths to a flame. It's been said that the Sagittarian propensity to forecast optimistic outcomes is insane given the evidence of many dire situations where the Sagittarian always remains buoyant - it baffles the other signs - but somehow your words always become a self-fulfilling prophesy. Don't change, dear Sagittarius. You are one of a kind."

Love Song Writer

I wonder how you dress up every day; I wonder what you read; I ponder on your taste in songs.

I imagine you a man, in mid 40s perhaps.  A man who has lived, perhaps experienced diaspora.  A man who has loved.  A man who has mended a broken heart a few too many times.  A man who smokes or used to smoke and enjoys his tea black.  A man whose eau de toilette's fragrance lingers in the room after he leaved.  Who checks you out in a party, then finds you in the crowd to tell you bluntly how much he adored the coordination of the color of the flowers on your scarf and the color of your lips.

I wonder if you too find inspiration in cloudy days.

I wonder whom you write to about love.

To Keep A Word

After nine nights, having the utensils and pots and pants and staples unpacked, I could cook tonight. I decided to keep my word and made lentil rice and chicken tonight.

"Dear home-owner,

We fell in love with your house on ... and it would be dreamy even to think that we would be living there.  I believe that you, of all people, would share our sentiment knowing that you have been living there for a long time and loved it too. This is evident to us by the very well-maintained condition of the house, the fitted custom-made cabinets in the garage, and the cute kitchen.  I remember my grandmother’s stove which was just like yours except in skyblue and I remember I made my first dish on it when I was just 7 years young.  It was a lentil dish.  Under my grandmother’s supervision I made a lentil rice dish in a small pot in one of those long hot summer days; everyone enjoyed a spoonful and gave me lots of complements; a sweet memory indeed.  Now, I can picture myself making many dishes for my family and friends standing by that stove in ...., smiling, thinking of good memories and wondering how your life has been in this sweet kitchen over the past decades.  May be even supervise my kids with their first cooking experiments.

We are a family of four ... .  My son, A, was 4 years young when we moved into the general neighborhood, learned to bike in our first house (all the prior places were rentals since we started our family).  He learned to play piano there, and he learned to make a bird feeder, which he tended to every day.  A and daddy built a vegetable bed in the backyard and tended to many flowers there.  He befriended the neighbor’s son who is a fine young gentleman; the family are moving to Arizona soon.  We are concerned about A and how this move would affect him,but we think a new place for us too will make the transition easier, hopefully.

We have a 21-month-young baby girl now, m. We can imagine her exploring the nature in the backyard now, learning to bike in that beautiful cul-de-sac.  In fact we just bought her a bike; she can barely reach the pedals yet she seems to love it.  We hope that our kids can walk and bike to school as much as possible. We like all the high-scored schools that serve this home and how they are in bike-able distances and hope our kids would make many lifelong friends there.  A should be able to easily do this given how close Elementary is, and with some more supervision and safety talks, he can even walk/bike to the Middle School in a couple of years.  I can imagine m walking a 20-minute walk to elementary school along with daddy every morning when she is old enough.

The picture was taken as soon as we offloaded the bike and for memory purposes only

Otherwise the kids always wear helmets :)

 

Oh and m loves to dance.  I can picture her in front of those wall-sized mirrors in the living room dancing to the tunes of her likings while daddy and I will watch her, smiling, marveling in her little ladyship.

M and I are both engineers....  With a young family, M and I tend to work from home as often as possible.  We found the office you have made the exact place we needed.  It is bright and roomy yet opposite to the family room and all the noises in the house.

As a family we like to explore, hike, and bike.  We enjoy biking to ....

We would be so honored to live here.  I can picture us all in this house, for M and I to send our kids off to school and high school and college, to grow old here and throw homecoming parties for our kids and grandkids in this lovely neighborhood and beautiful home.  We sincerely hope that you would consider our offer!

 

Your consideration is greatly appreciated!

On behalf of all of us in D family"