Sad Goodbyes

You are leaving again...
Needn't you say a word
Since your tears bear the burdun of farewells....

Mir Hossein, A man whom a nation calls him by first name..

There is no good compromise between bad and worse, but there is still scope for damage control.

I read the mentioned sentence in NY Times today and immediately my mind dragged me to Iran and it's infamous presidential election.

Mir Hossein, in his 18th manifest, wrote:

There were some people among the green line [...] whom were saying they will choose the bad, among bad and worse and this choice had made the continuity of that line possible. The real correction and amelioration will start from this distinguishing ability and responsibility for their choice.

Majority of Iranians tried their best to do some "damage control" but their silent demonstrations was crashed by the roaring sound of bullet and mindless faithfulness.

Now its been about 160 days that he is imprisoned with his wife. And I missed him, not because he was an old politician whom called himself "the bad choice" but because he proved himself to us to be an artist whom can't break his vows to us.

Deck!

There are some occasions in our lives that we have to gamble. But not a blind one, we should find the probabilities or at least think about them.
Who can deny the joyous moment of victory, when you have the winning card and tend to play fair and wise.
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KEM Arrow Black and Gold Poker Size Standard Index Playing Cards

Hommage to In search for lost times...

Reading various types of books from variety of authors, I reckon I can safely say that I have found Marcel Proust's prose as soothing as coffee. When I started rereading it, every night I opened it and each night sip several pages from the hot meanwhile a bit bitter coffee. Unfathomable human interactions were untangled in front of my eyes by the magical power of Proust's prose. And in that very moment, I was drenched in profound thoughts. Allow me to correct myself. I was buried under the sudden avalanche of nostalgies and bitter/sweet memories. I miss reading In search for lost time.

و چنین گفت دوست من ۲

وزیر علوم: اختلاط در دانشگاه‌ها مطابق با الگوی غربی است. 

دوست من: ایشالا کی مراسم حج رو تفکیک جنسیتی می کنید تا الگوش اسلامی شه!

Helpless tears of Hope

Can I write again, without remembering the pain. Can I ignore the ignorance... I'm handcuffed to the so called root. This is not cherishing my root but that's solemnly the infectious memories of the blossom of a young brittle tree. The small branch that glittered our minds and illuminated the path in front and all of a sudden arouse a tender thunder. A pacific tempest that could not tolerate denial of its dream. The dream was all about a word. Hope...

HP COUNT DOWN!