It was a very short trip, as I didn't get very far. Just to San Francisco Airport and back. I don't want to talk about what went wrong because it puts me in a really bad mood again and makes me want to do unloving things to my travel agent, United Airlines, and British Airways. So I give you my trip report as follows.
This is a picture of Daly City BART Station in San Francisco, where I had to unboard one train and wait to board another for the airport.
This is the closest I got to airplanes today. I saw a few of them outside the window of the train station on my way back.
My suitcases, bulging with presents for my friends and their families, looking sad and suddenly very heavy. I felt very Iranian again, lugging several heavy suitcases around the airport today.
This is the cab driver who took me home from the train station. He asked me in English if I was Iranian as we got to my house. I said I was. I asked him if he was an Iranian. He said "I am from Afghanistan. My name is Hafiz." I introduced myself and shook hands with him, telling him that I think our nations are so close to one another, they could be called the same, as they were in older times. He agreed. Mr. Hafiz said he had been to Iran before the revolution. He said he is a retired civil engineer who works past his retirement, six days a week, to support his family. He has a son and a daughter who have graduated from good California universities and his youngest son is getting ready to attend college this year. He said an education is the most valuable thing an individual can have in life, and this is what he has worked hard to give his children. I asked Mr. Hafiz for his phone number, so that I may call him later to chat, when I am in a better mood. I think he and I can have many interesting chats, but not today. End of trip and end of trip report.
This is a picture of Daly City BART Station in San Francisco, where I had to unboard one train and wait to board another for the airport. 
This is the closest I got to airplanes today. I saw a few of them outside the window of the train station on my way back.
My suitcases, bulging with presents for my friends and their families, looking sad and suddenly very heavy. I felt very Iranian again, lugging several heavy suitcases around the airport today.
This is the cab driver who took me home from the train station. He asked me in English if I was Iranian as we got to my house. I said I was. I asked him if he was an Iranian. He said "I am from Afghanistan. My name is Hafiz." I introduced myself and shook hands with him, telling him that I think our nations are so close to one another, they could be called the same, as they were in older times. He agreed. Mr. Hafiz said he had been to Iran before the revolution. He said he is a retired civil engineer who works past his retirement, six days a week, to support his family. He has a son and a daughter who have graduated from good California universities and his youngest son is getting ready to attend college this year. He said an education is the most valuable thing an individual can have in life, and this is what he has worked hard to give his children. I asked Mr. Hafiz for his phone number, so that I may call him later to chat, when I am in a better mood. I think he and I can have many interesting chats, but not today. End of trip and end of trip report.
19 comments:
Nazy Joonam!
Oh My God! I cannot believe it. I hope everything else is well with you. I will be back in Berkeley tomorrow afternoon. I think Jeerjeerak will be in SF on Friday.
Rest well!
Love,
Tameshk
I'm so sorry to hear this Nazy joonam. It feels terrible when your plans blow out all of a sudden...
I quote my grandma who used to say "hatman ye kheiri toosh boode madar". it often made me feel somehow better.
لبانت
به ظرافت شعر
شهوانی ترین بوسه ها را به شرمی چنان مبدل می کند
که جاندار غار نشین از آن سود می جوید
تا به صورت انسان دراید
و گونه هایت
با دو شیار مّورب
که غرور ترا هدایت می کنند و
سرنوشت مرا
که شب را تحمل کرده ام
بی آن که به انتظار صبح
مسلح بوده باشم،
و بکارتی سر بلند را
از رو سبیخانه های داد و ستد
سر به مهر باز آورده م
هرگز کسی این گونه فجیع به کشتن خود برنخاست
که من به زندگی نشستم!
و چشانت راز آتش است
و عشقت پیروزی آدمی ست
هنگامی که به جنگ تقدیر می شتابد
و آغوشت
اندک جائی برای زیستن
اندک جائی برای مردن
و گریز از شهر
که به هزار انگشت
به وقاحت
پکی آسمان را متهم می کند
کوه با نخستین سنگ ها آغاز می شود
و انسان با نخستین درد
در من زندانی ستمگری بود
که به آواز زنجیرش خو نمی کرد -
من با نخستین نگاه تو آغاز شدم
توفان ها
در رقص عظیم تو
به شکوهمندی
نی لبکی می نوازند،
و ترانه رگ هایت
آفتاب همیشه را طالع می کند
بگذار چنان از خواب بر ایم
که کوچه های شهر
حضور مرا دریابند
دستانت آشتی است
ودوستانی که یاری می دهند
تا دشمنی
از یاد برده شود
پیشانیت ایینه ای بلند است
تابنک و بلند،
که خواهران هفتگانه در آن می نگرند
تا به زیبایی خویش دست یابند
دو پرنده بی طاقت در سینه ات آوازمی خوانند
تابستان از کدامین راه فرا خواهد رسید
تا عطش
آب ها را گوارا تر کند؟
تا آ یینه پدیدار آئی
عمری دراز در آ نگریستم
من برکه ها ودریا ها را گریستم
ای پری وار درقالب آدمی
که پیکرت جزدر خلواره ناراستی نمی سوزد!
حضور بهشتی است
که گریز از جهنم را توجیه می کند،
دریائی که مرا در خود غرق می کند
تا از همه گناهان ودروغ
شسته شوم
وسپیده دم با دستهایت بیدارمی شود
ببخشيد که انقدر جا گرفتم، اما دوست داشتم اين شعر شاملو را برايت بنويسم
خوش باشي مهربونم
سلام
خوش آمدی و چه غمگین آمدی
نازی جان میدونی شعار من چیه ؟
من همیشه عادت دارم تو سختی میگم بخند بابا حالا چه به خودم چه به دوستان و اطرافیانم !!
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حالا بخند بابا بی خیال !
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راستی من گزیرش این پست رو تو پست قبلی نوشتم
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خوش باشی و موفق
نازی عزیزم بخاطر اینکه حالت خوب بشه قطعه ای از شعر مادر مهدی سهیلی رو برات می نویسم
این شعر در دیوان سرود قرن چاپ شده
-----------------------
من کیم؟ گنج مهر و وفایم
من کیم؟ آسمان سخایم
من کیم؟ چهره یی آشنایم
مادرم ، جلوه گاه خدایم
من کیم ؟ عاشق روی فرزند
جان من پر کشد سوی فرزند
برنخیزد دل از کوی فرزند
عاشقم ، عاشقی مبتلایم
تو که یی ؟ سرو آزاده ی من
نور چشم خدا داده ی من
چشم تو جام من ، باده ی من
تو امیدم ، توانم ، بقایم
سالها دل به مهر تو بستم
پشت خود را ز غم ها شکستم
نیمه شب ها به راهت نشستم
تا شود از تو روشن سرایم
چون روی بامدادان ز پیشم
غمزده خسته جان ، دل پریشم
بی خبر ز دل و جان خویشم
همدم غم اسیر بلایم
تا که شب سوی من باز گردی
با دل خسته همراز گردی
همدم جان ناساز گردی
بر فلک هست ، دست دعایم
من ز دنیا، تو را برگزیدم
رنج بی حد به پایت کشیدم
تا شود سبز ، باغ امیدم
جان ز تن رفت و بیرو ز پایم
زندگی بی تو شوری ندارد
بی تو جانم سروری ندارد
چشم من بی تو نوری ندارد
ای جمال تو نور و ضیایم
یادم آید یکی نیمه شب بود
در تن و جان تو سوز و تب بود
جان من زین مصیبت به لب بود
شاهدم گریه های هایم
بی خبر بودی از زاری من
غافل از رنج بیداری من
فارغ از درد و غمخواری من
وان همه ندبه و ناله هایم
بودی آن عهدها خاکبیزان
می خرامیدی افتان و خیزان
من به دنبال تو اشکریزان
تا که در پای تو سر بسایم
بود آن روزگاران شبابم
نرگسی مست تر از شرابم
سیمگون سینه ، چون ماهتابم
رفت از کف جمال و صفایم
بلبل من ! نوای تو خواهم
عمر را در هوای تو خواهم
زندگی را برای تو خواهم
تو بپایی اگر من نپایم
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نازی عزیزم اول خواستم قطعه ای از این شعر رو بنویسم چون مشغول کاری بودم ولی وقتی شروع کردم اصلا نفهمیدم چه شد که همه اش را نوشتم
این شعر واقعا بیان کننده از زحمات بی دریغ مادران نیست واقعا ولی تقدیم به همه ی مادران فداکار ، مخصوصا مادران ایرانی که واقعا در فداکاری اسوه اند و سرآمد
خدا سایه هایشان را از سر ما بچه ها کم نکند انشاالله
شاد باشید و موفق
جمله ی آخر رو به این صورت اصلاح می کنم ببخشید به خاطر انشای بد
"این شعر واقعا بیان کننده زحمات بی دریغ مادران نیست ، ولی تقدیم به همه ی مادران فداکار ، مخصوصا مادران ایرانی که واقعا در فداکاری اسوه اند و سرآمد"
Nazy jan, I am so sorry to hear that :(.
But as "Jeerjeerak" said, "Hatman ye kheyri tush boode". Don't worry our friend and be happy.
yours,
Pardis
ey baba,,
Tameshk, Jeerjeerak, Neda, Farshad, Pardis, and Leva-ye Azizam:
Thank you all for your kind and supportive messages. It was a bummer, but I'm already over it, on to other things in life. As I have said before, even in the worst of circumstances, within a few hours or days, I develop a sense of humor even about the worst events and can laugh about them. Thanks y'all.
That is a shame. I am sorry this happened to you. I hope you are feeling better now that one day has passed. I myself have a couple of stories of trip plans gone wrong too, in case that makes you feel better. These days I usually tell it to friends and we all laugh, you see: Tragedy+Time=Comedy.
Be good Nazy Jan.
ای بابا چرا ؟ ( این چرا به معنی این نیست که منتظر جوابم. بلکه فقط صوت اعتراضه )
امیدوارم خیلی زود خاطره اش جاش رو به خاطره سفر به یادماندنی ای بده .
Ehsan Jan, FarNice Jan:
Thank you for your sympathy! I was just thinking that there must have been a very good reason for this! You know, I have been on hundreds of air trips in my lifetime. One time I left my passport at home and couldn't go on a trip, and this is the first time I missed a flight! On both occasions, I think I needed to slow down. I have been vegging out at my house for the past 48 hours! I am bummed out but really not as depressed as I had thought. Already I have started making other memories instead. Thank you.
Nazy joon. I am so sorry to hear that. reading your writing and looking at the photo made my heart to feel the pain. I am sure you are over the bad mood now, and I hope you get to go where you wanted to go pretty soon.
Thank you sweet Chakameh! As I was working on this post, my older son came in and in a very rare moment of tender love for me, decided to give me an unsolicited neck massage! He was reading the post as I was working on it, and he looked at me and said: "Mom, I really like that sarcastic way in which you wrote this post!" Hee Hee, I crack up thinking that I might still have a few surprises for my kids up my sleeves! I'm all better now and moving on. Thanks again my friend.
Ehsan Jan, I forgot to remind you that Farshad has left a response to your question about "Ashpazan" in the "What Love Tastes Like" post for you.
Thanks
I'm so sorry about your trip. I guess your children were disappointed to not have your house for themselves for a while ;) as you can guess, I remember my teen years very well.
I'm also sorry that I am so behind and it takes me too long to leave you comments. I have a lot catching up to do when it comes to your blog :)
have a nice weekend
Salam Daisy Jan! If the two of them were disppointed, they didn't show it to me! I am sure they had made plans to enjoy themselves, but they never confessed! When I was young, I, too, looked forward to my parents' short trips! Have a good weekend bookworm Daisy.
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