Nostalgia In A Hotel Room

Autumn in Qom Province, Iran.
I am in a hotel room, exhausted from a very long day of driving to an intensive training class and "team building" with several colleagues from work. Unpacking, I realized I had forgotten to pack the book I was reading. Without a book, I will have a hard time falling asleep tonight. I searched the room and found nothing to read. I then turned on the television, hoping it would help. I laughed, as I couldn't remember the last time I had mindlessly turned on the TV! I switched the channels, feeling smug to have the remote control all to myself, absent my kids who usually hoard the device and the appliance! Switching from station to station, I found there was nothing I wanted to watch. I have simply grown out of the habit of television, it seems, and I don't mind it at all.
My room overlooks a man-made lake on which colored lights and fountains are creating beautiful sites and sounds in the dark. A thought grips me again, as it does everytime I find a moment to sit down quietly. What is happening in Tehran right now? It's early morning hours of a Tuesday there now. What are my friends doing right now? Who is driving through the streets that once used to be my neighborhood? Are the shops open now? Soon, the Haji Agha that runs the small produce market on the corner would set up the tray which holds heaps of large red beets, laboo, to be cooked and ready for sale by noon, clouds of steam rising from it, and the delicious and unparalleled smell of it filling that corner of the neighborhood on a cold November day. I am dead tired and my mind is filled with memories, sights, and smells of Tehran. I miss it again tonight.


Marzieh said...

عزیزم چقدر زیبا احساست رو بیان میکنی
امیدوارم که به زودی موفق به دیدار یار و دیار بشی...

بانوي جشنواره زمستان said...

و آرامش خالصي در اين عکس وجود داره
... اينجايي نازي جان
در ايران
کنار همه لحظه ها ، خاطره ها و انسان هايي که دوستشان داري و دوستت دارند

mehran said...

Nazy joon, just thinking you arenot in bay area make me feel, oh my friend is far and I miss her

SERENDIP said...

Response to your article in Iranian.com:

Nazy jan: You have reached self-actualization at an early age where most people are not lucky enough to find it ever in their life time. Self-awarness is the greatest gift that God bestows upon only a chosen few. You're blessed to have such a refined mind and generous spirit to examine your life and your fears in a public forum in hopes of contributing to heal humanity as a whole. Your survival as a single mother in and of itself is victory.

The meaning of success is what you've overcome and continue to overcome in your life not what some social and cultural norms tell you what it should be. Your compassion for humanity sets you apart far beyond your years from the rest of us and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Regarding men: Iranain men are not mature enough to deserve you and frankly they have nothing to offer you that you already don't have...hahaha


mehran said...

what is wrong with you??!!! post ur comment for the article in iranian.com, there not here, if the writer wants ur comment about that article here she would post it here. did u get that or you want me to explain it agian for u!

nima said...

قيلوله‌ی ناگزير
در تاق‌تاقي‌ حوض‌ْخانه،

تا سال‌ها بعد

آبي را

مفهومي از وطن دهد.

اميرزاده‌يي تنها
با تکرار ِ چشم‌های بادام ِ تلخ‌اش
در هزار آينه‌ی شش‌گوش ِ کاشي.

لالای نجواوار ِ فوّاره‌يي خُرد

که بر وقفه‌ی خواب‌آلوده‌ی اطلسي‌ها


تا سال‌ها بعد

آبي را



از وطن دهد.

اميرزاده‌يي تنها
با تکرار ِ چشم‌های بادام ِ تلخ‌اش
در هزار آينه‌ی شش‌گوش ِ کاشي.


بر نوک ِ پنجه مي‌گذشت

از نيزه‌های سوزان ِ نقره

به کج‌ترين سايه،

تا سال‌ها بعد

تکرّر ِ آبي را


مفهومي از وطن دهد تاق‌تاقي‌های قيلوله
و نجوای خواب‌آلوده‌ی فوّاره‌يي مردّد
بر سکوت ِ اطلسي‌های ِ تشنه
و تکرار ِ ناباور ِ هزاران بادام ِ تلخ
در هزار آينه‌ی شش‌گوش ِ کاشي
سال‌ها بعد

سال‌ها بعد

به نيم‌روزی گرم


خاطره‌ی دوردست ِ حوض‌ْخانه.

آه اميرزاده‌ی کاشي‌ها
با اشک‌های آبي‌ات!

nimshab said...

How nicely you wrote your mind. I almost feel every thing you were thinking about too.

Nazy said...

Salam Marzieh Jan:

Thank you, my friend! I know you share in the feelings of nostalgia for Shiraz and Iran. Here, take a look at these photos. They might cheer you up! Be good azizam.


Nazy said...

Salam Neda Jan: Thank you for your sweet message. You are so right, I am there.

Nazy said...

Salam Mehran Jan:

I have missed you. Where exactly have you been? You are so sweet! I am back, khialet rahat! I have to prepare for a dinner party for 20, remember?! Be good Your Majesty!

Nazy said...

Salam Bar Serendip. Boy, I have missed you! I hope you are enjoying yourself, and that you are enduring the cold European winter in the warmth of your family's love. Thank you for your kind comment. I will write you an email soon. Take care and be good doostam.

Nazy said...

Nima Jan:

I love this Shamloo poem! It is simply beautiful! Thank you so very much for leaving it here, making this space feel so much better. Be good my young and extraordinary friend.

Nazy said...

Salam Nimeh Shab Jan:

You are so kind to take the trouble and the time out of your busy schedule to come and read me and leave a comment. I am honored and delighted everytime you come. I hope the upcoming holiday brings you and your family a chance to rest and relax and enjoy each other. Be good azizam.