Hunting the hunters

Edle, Uk

There is something rather unique about capturing photographers in action. For me the vague sense of hesitation that usually accompanies photographing people fades away when the subject has a camera.

عکاسی از عکاسان در حال شکار سوژه یک چیز دیگه است

It made me smile :)

In our garden

http://www.schmap.com/guidewidgets/p=63013860N00/c=SG31162922

I was delighted to see one of my photos of St Ann's church selected for inclusion in the second edition of the Schmap England Guide. See the photo here.

برای دیدن یکی ازعکسهای انتخاب شده من از کلیسایی در منچستر اینجا کلیک کنید

The Lying Shepherd with a modern twist

Inside the car was hot and humid. Despite it being early evening and all four windows wound down there was no breeze. The car was standing still as the traffic had been brought to a complete halt by an accident in the motorway. He was furious and kept on imagining himself being chocked by his tie even though he took it off some time ago. For him, in that moment, there was nothing more agonizing than being strapped into the seat of his car which was condemned to stand motionless despite its engine running. Time lingered; his blood boiled over and over. His eyes were constantly scanning in all directions for a sign of movement as if life itself depended on that.

He decided to phone Sara and let her know that he could not meet her in the restaurant at 8:00, as planed. He reached out for his jacket which was on the back seat of the car and took his mobile phone out of its packet. The battery was exhausted. He recalled the annoying interment beeping sound of the mobile as he set off earlier. At the time, he wished that he could turn it off. Of course, that idea was soon abundant, as reaching out for his jacket whilst driving was silly. Instead he turned the radio on to mask the irritating beep of his mobile; but exactly when the warning sound stopped he could not remember.

His mind started to wonder; how would Sara react to him being late again. Would she forgive him on hearing about the state of the road? He had no control over the situation and Sara was a reasonable girl; but the memories of last night’s argument made him doubtful. Today’s meeting was meant to be his final chance to prove that he was not as unreliable as Sara said.

He felt unsure and angry. In his mind he started searching for a solid reason for Sara's low opinion of him. He might have told a few little lies, but Sara calling him a deceiver was taking things a bit too far. "Women!" he said to himself "irrational!". He recalled someone telling him that in the original version of Cinderella, "the ugly sisters" cut their toes and heal off to fit into the Cinderella’s shoe. "Irrational" he said to himself again. He could not let go of his prejudice and his degrading view. . Women wear shoes that even looking at them makes your feet ache, he thought, wearing those does not fall too short of chopping your toes off! At least in the Cinderella story females were making sacrifices in order to get the prince and live "happily ever after". The efforts made by some women today seem so aimless, though. They just want to live up to certain expectations which are dictated by some and followed rather sheepishly by others. He was still busy thinking when he realized that the road was gradually getting unblocked as the cars started to move. "Thank God!" he said loudly. 

Eventually he got to the restaurant; but he was over half an hour late. He parked his car somewhere near the restaurant, on a double yellow line, and rushed into the restaurant. Sara was not there. He tried phoning her from the public phone, but there was no answer. He went back home thinking that he would ring her later to explain as she might still be driving back. On arriving home he was exhausted and fed up, the first thing that he did was to check his messages on the answer phone; there was none. He put his mobile to charge; he noticed a text message from Sara “we are finished”, the message read.

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یک پیغام کوتاه

بعضی اوقات پیغام دادن هم خیلی سخته، طفلک قاصدکها که همه عمرپیغام رد و بدل میکنند

I couldn't write what I wanted you to know! But the dance of fluffy white seeds of dandelions will be the courier of my message to you.

نامه سرگشاده به سنگ صبور

 عکس: شهیره
 کتاب: برگزیده اشعار نادر نادرپور

باز امروز دلم از نا آشنایی ها گرفته
از رفاقت و صحبت با بیگانه ها گرفته

با وجود توفانی خموش درچشمانم
بغضی سنگین هنوز راه نفس را گرفته

حس دوری او که نزدیک پنداشتمش
هیجان زندگانی را از لحظه هایم گرفته

بی اعتنا یاری که حتی آشنا نیست
بلایی است که امروز ما را دامان گرفته

(3oth April 2008)

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13 bedar

The 13th day after the arrival of the Persian New Year (13 bedar) marks the end of the New Year festivity for people who celebrate Nuroz (see the link below). In preparation for the Persian New Year seven symbolic items (they start with the letter “س”, one of the Persian alphabets) are normally gathered. “Sabzeh” is one of them. It is the collection of seeds grown into a green mass (to symbolise life and regeneration).

'13 bedar' is the day of nature, when people spend time outdoor. 'Sabzeh' is also returned to the nature in this day. It is customary to tie the green stems of the 'Sabzeh' together for good luck, happiness and success (in particular in finding the right man!). 'Sabzeh' is then thrown away in the water, wishing that bad luck would go away with it, too.

This year we spent our '13 bedar' in Tatton Park (Cheshire, UK). The spirits were high despite the fact that this year's '13 bedar' was a wet one!

For more informationon Nuroz:

http://sharp-pencils.blogspot.com/2008/02/spring-is-upon-us.html

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Good, evil and my soul!

بدون شرح

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آرزوی تحقق یافته

سبزه امسال

دیشب شب چهارشنیه سوری رو به طریقه معمول جشن گرفتیم، یک شب خوب و پرخاطره بود. مثل خیلی از ایرانیها ازایام عید خاطرات زیادی دارم، یکیش درچهارشنیه سوری چند سال پیش اتفاق افتاد.
اون روزها هنوز دانشجو بودم و سخت درگیرنوشتن نتیجه آزمایشی که باید روز بعد تحویل استاد میدادم. تا نزدیکای سحر سرم به کار بند بود. تا سرانجام حدود ساعت سه صبح "ن" پایان نوشته شد. خسته و گرسنه، ناراحت از اینکه مراسم چهارشنیه سوری رو ازدست دادم رفتم سر یخچال که چیزی بخورم. چشمم افتاد به شیشه سس گوجه فرنگی. یه فکر بکر زد به سرم ، ازاین بهتر نمیشد! شیشه سس رو کف زمین گذاشتم، چند بارازروش پریدم وگفتم، "سرخی تو ازمن، زردی من ازتو". صد التبه که لطف پرش از روی آتش چیز دیگه ای هستش ولی یه جورایی احساس می کردم که حداقل پیش اجدادم روسیاه نسیتم و رسوم ایرانی را به جا آوردم!
روز بعد از خواب بیدار شدم، حس کردم یه چیزی رو صورتم سنگینی می کند. توی آینه نگاه کردم. یک جوش قرمز روی گونه ی چپم زده بود، به قرمزی سس گوجه فرنگی

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