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nazykaviani.blogspot.com

From Berkeley: Isfahan

http://nazykaviani.blogspot.com/2014/10/isfahan-i-ache-with-pain-of-your-women.html

I ache with the pain of your women. I dread with the fear of your girls. I cry with the burning sensation in my eyes. Only tears of devastation, not the acid. The dreamland of my childhood. The envy of the other half of the world. The utopia of clean and simple life. The city of blue mosaics and endless light in its waters. Isfahan, My Isfahan,. Keep your children safe. Remain the treasure chest of Iran. And the priceless heritage of humanity. October 22, 2014. October 23, 2014 at 1:50 AM.

nazykaviani.blogspot.com

From Berkeley: October 2014

http://nazykaviani.blogspot.com/2014_10_01_archive.html

I ache with the pain of your women. I dread with the fear of your girls. I cry with the burning sensation in my eyes. Only tears of devastation, not the acid. The dreamland of my childhood. The envy of the other half of the world. The utopia of clean and simple life. The city of blue mosaics and endless light in its waters. Isfahan, My Isfahan,. Keep your children safe. Remain the treasure chest of Iran. And the priceless heritage of humanity. October 22, 2014. The Friday Afternoon Discovery. Places I Go...

nazykaviani.blogspot.com

From Berkeley: September 2014

http://nazykaviani.blogspot.com/2014_09_01_archive.html

از روزی که یادم میاد، همیشه پدر و مادرم بهم میگفتن "تو خوش قدم بودی." خوش قدم بودن خیلی جایگاه ارزنده ای در خانواده بود! اولا که همیشه یه قصۀ خوب مثبتی دوروبر این "خوش قدم" بودن گفته میشد که خیلی خوشمزه بود، چون تو در واقع برای این نقش خوب و مثبت هیچ زحمتی نکشیده بودی، الا این که "قدم" که چه عرض کنم، با کله وارد یک معرکه‌ای شده بودی! هیشکی دیگه رو نمیخواستن اول ببینن! بعدش هم این که روز اول نوروز این من بودم که اول از همه بعد از تحویل سال باید از در میامدم تو! خوب دیگه، من "خوش قدمه" بودم دیگه! البته این...

nazykaviani.blogspot.com

From Berkeley: Joy on a hilltop

http://nazykaviani.blogspot.com/2011/05/joy-on-hilltop.html

Joy on a hilltop. As the degenerative disease claimed more and more of my mother's abilities and health, I, along with my father and my sisters, learned to throw parties on my mother's behalf, cook huge meals, and entertain, all so that my mother would not miss her happy and bustling household in which frequent parties were held. I think we did quite well. We finally made it to the bottom of the hill in one piece, totally euphoric. In response to an invitation to write. About caring for elderly parents.

nazykaviani.blogspot.com

From Berkeley: We were singing, "bye-bye, Miss American Pie."

http://nazykaviani.blogspot.com/2012/02/we-were-singing-bye-bye-miss-american.html

We were singing, "bye-bye, Miss American Pie.". Tonight I was struggling with a piece of unpleasant work, something that just wouldn't end no matter how hard I tried to finish it! Life is good tonight. I am a fortunate woman with great memories in my past and absolutely precious treasures in the side room, behind the closed door. A long, long time ago. I can still remember. How that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance. That I could make those people dance. این فید شما آپدیت نمیشه&#...

nazykaviani.blogspot.com

From Berkeley: The Friday Afternoon Discovery

http://nazykaviani.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-friday-afternoon-discovery.html

The Friday Afternoon Discovery. He was sitting next to me at the dining table. I was working, completely focused on what I was doing, and making sure that I didn't take my eyes off the monitor, no matter what I could see in my peripheral vision, and no matter who called on me. I had a deadline to meet, and I was not going to let this slip. I am overwhelmed with indescribable feelings of joy, reflection, and anticipation. My child has gray hair. October 12, 2014 at 1:28 PM. Thank you dear sweet Pardis!

nazykaviani.blogspot.com

From Berkeley: May 2011

http://nazykaviani.blogspot.com/2011_05_01_archive.html

Joy on a hilltop. As the degenerative disease claimed more and more of my mother's abilities and health, I, along with my father and my sisters, learned to throw parties on my mother's behalf, cook huge meals, and entertain, all so that my mother would not miss her happy and bustling household in which frequent parties were held. I think we did quite well. We finally made it to the bottom of the hill in one piece, totally euphoric. In response to an invitation to write. About caring for elderly parents.

nazykaviani.blogspot.com

From Berkeley: March 2010

http://nazykaviani.blogspot.com/2010_03_01_archive.html

This is my friend Parisa Vaaleh. On very short notice, she performed at an International Women's Day rally in San Jose this past Sunday. She has many beautiful songs in her two albums, but chose to sing Ostaad Shajarian's Iran, Ey Saraay-e Omid. For the occasion. She has a lovely voice and an absolutely beautiful soul. She is one of my best friends in the world, full of compassion, kindness, and generosity. This clip is an amateur video and she will probably get mad at me for posting it here!

abouzart.persianblog.ir

شاد باشی ای دوست که شادی سزای توست ... - قاصدک

http://abouzart.persianblog.ir/post/72

شبیه قاصدکی/ و ز آواز عشق لبریزم. شاد باشی ای دوست که شادی سزای توست . تقدیم به عزیزانم، احسان و سجاد:. غمت مباد ای رفیق. ما هنوز با همیم. دستها به دست هم. رقص میکنیم شاد شاد. غمت مباد ای رفیق. زندگی اگرچه گاه تلخ. پر ز رنگهای پرفریب و پردروغ. زندگی اگرچه چون مسیر بسته ای است بی فروغ. تو خودت بیا و نور باش. روی خاک قلب من بذر شور پاش. شور و هستی و ترانه باش. رو نکن به فصل زرد. خو مکن به انزوای درد. خاک می‌شوم، جوانه باش. غمت مباد ای رفیق. ما که با همیم. با خیال تخت، خنده کن. خرمن رنج خویش را درو بکن.

abouzart.persianblog.ir

آزمودم مرگ من در زندگیست ... - قاصدک

http://abouzart.persianblog.ir/post/73

شبیه قاصدکی/ و ز آواز عشق لبریزم. آزمودم مرگ من در زندگیست . کلمات هم معنای خود را می­بازند وقتی تکه تکه شوند . . . تکه های واژگون مردی است که سقوط کرد. و پژواک صدای این سقوط را هیچ گوشی نشنید. تنها دره عمیقی است که با سقوط در آن نمی‌توان به مرگ رسید. و چیزی تلخ‌تر از زنده مانی در اتمام زندگانی نیست! 1 آزمودم مرگ من در زندگیست. چون رهم زین زندگی پایندگیست. 2 خنک آن کس که از این درگاه ناامید نشود. هیچ اگر سایه پذیرد منم آن سایه هیچ! بر سر تربت ما چون گذری غربت خواه . تا ابد خاطر ما خونی و رنگین از توست .