What a wanderer could wonder about...

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Hush...


...

Hush, lay down your troubled mind
The day has vanished and left us behind
And the wind, whispering soft lullabies
Will soothe, so close your weary eyes

Let your arms enfold us
Through the dark of night
Will your angels hold us
Till we see the light

Sleep, angels will watch over you
And soon beautiful dreams will come true
Can you feel spirits embracing your soul
So dream while secrets of darkness unfold
...
-- Prayer (Secret Garden)

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Daddy what if...

Son: Daddy what if the sun stop shinin' what would happen then

Daddy:
If the sun stopped shinin' you'd be so surprised
You'd stare at the heavens with wide open eyes
And the wind would carry your light to the skies
And the sun would start shinin' again

Son: Daddy what if the wind stopped blowin' what would happen then

Daddy:
If the wind stopped blowin' then the land would be dry
And your boat wouldn't sail son and your kite wouldn't fly
And the grass would see your troubles and she'd tell the wind
And the wind would start blowin' again

Son: But daddy what if the grass stopped growin' what would happen then

Daddy:
If the grass stopped growin' why you'd probably cry
And the ground would be watered by the tears from your eyes
And like your love for me the grass would grow so high
Yes the grass would start growin' again

Son: But daddy what if I stopped lovin' you what would happen then

Daddy:
If you stopped lovin' me then the grass would stop growin'
The sun would stop shinin' and the wind would stop blowin'
So you see if you wanna keep this old world a goin'
You better start lovin' me again again you better start lovin' me again
You hear me Bobby you better start lovin' me again
You love me Bobby you better start lovin' me again

- Shel Silverstein (A nice clip of this poem)

Friday, September 28, 2007

Hier ist immer etwas los!

I like Zurich and ETH very much, you can hardly find the time to attend all the interesting events and Colloquia. So far I've been to a natural history exhibition at Uni Zurich, the Alles ist Spiel exhibition at ETH library, which was fabulous (an exhibition of different games and how they have attracted mathematicians, in a historic perspective), and unfortunately I missed a very good Colloquium called "Joy of Programming".

And tonight I'm off to Nacht der Forschung or Researchers Night 2007 in Zurich, at the Lake of Zurich! It should be very interesting! I'll let you know! :)

Monday, September 24, 2007

Comrade

"To fall in love is easy, even to remain in it is not difficult; our human loneliness is cause enough. But it is a hard quest worth making to find a comrade through whose steady presence one becomes steadily the person one desires to be."
- Anna Louise Strong

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Flower of stone

Flower of stone, flower of stone
That's what I am, left here alone.
Shadows so dark, makes me feel cold
Nothing but emptiness here has grown.

From a performance by Monika Jalili.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Quo Vadis?

Zurich, an alpine city with fantastic sceneries, classy transportations, strangest German dialect, and fantastic chocolates and cheese!

I was going back to my dorm a few nights ago, it was exactly midnight and for the first time since I had arrived in Zurich, I looked up at the night's sky. The W, or Cassiopeia, was right above my head. I remembered the first time I looked at Stockholm's night sky, and how shocked I was for noticing that most everything was not at the place it always used to be; there Ursa Minor was almost above my head and I could see constellations that were not supposed to be seen in the sky at the same time (not supposed to be seen at my hometown's night sky that is).

When you move around, many things change in your environment, the look and feel of the place, the buildings, the signs, the plants, the way people dress and most obvious of all, the language. But for me, none of all those has ever had an effect as powerful as noticing the changes in the sky. It is like the final verdict, that proves that I have moved, and I am in a new place now!

It is just the contrary of a saying we have in Persian, "Where ever you go, the color of sky would be the same!". It is definitely not so, in the outside at least. But perhaps in the inside, skies stay the same. My internal sky has stayed the same for a long time now, it is gray, with a touch of pink!

= = =

Vienna, good old Vienna. It was a weird feeling, walking by the consuming silence of Donna (Danube) again, remembering the meditating nights I had, gazing at the dancing lights of the bridges over the calm flow of the water. The water looked so calm, but it surely carried the huge burden of what it had seen on its way since it had left the springs, the falls it had passed, the floods it had caused..., but it still had a long way to go; and so did I, and so did I.

= = =

Tehran, the hot city of dry eyes and lost cries.... The capital of my country, whose state and affairs hurt me, just like most other things I love do.

The stay in Tehran this time was just a simple one day transit stay, perhaps not that simple though. Our flight from Mashhad to Tehran was scheduled to be at 7:45pm, and we got home in Tehran at 5am next day. Mashhad's airport was just like a war zone that night, I have traveled quite a lot with plane, but I had never experienced such a havoc. The result of it for me was three broken nails (finger and thumb) and a twisted wrist!

= = =

Mashhad, home. It is already three weeks since I left it again, but it looks like a year. I don't know how on earth I survived the last days, I just have a vague recollection of trying to stay sane, keep my face straight, and handle what I had to handle. And also of reciting these verses from a poem by Saadi (here is the song):


ای ساربان آهسته رو کآرام جانم می​رود
وان دل که با خود داشتم با دلستانم می​رود

من مانده​ام مهجور از او بیچاره و رنجور از او
گویی که نیشی دور از او در استخوانم می​رود
...
او می​رود دامن کشان من زهر تنهایی چشان
دیگر مپرس از من نشان کز دل نشانم می​رود
...
در رفتن جان از بدن گویند هر نوعی سخن
من خود به چشم خویشتن دیدم که جانم می​رود