Dark Love


Dark Love
by Shazde Asdola Mirza

On the sugar-white beach of Mozambique’s Bazaruto, her perfect figure was lying, like a dark-chocolate doll on the bed of coconut shavings. Cape breeze had brushed aside the Indian Ocean’s humidity, and the brilliant sun was burning on all engines, just to keep up with that cool Antarctic messenger.  

She half opened her eyes and calmly asked, “Aren’t you past the Frisbee age?” Apologetic and admiring, I had to excuse for the splashing of sands … it all was the dog’s fault! Her eyes and smile blossomed wide for Keri – the irresistible Golden Lab, with a 4.0 batting average.  

She charmingly forgave us and accepted a peace-offering. The chilled glass of “Dawa” cured her irritation – such ultimate treat for every ill. Must love those Swahili words with their playful roots tangled through so many Arabic delights!  

Inevitably, the “where are you from” arrived to cruelly remind me of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Took a moment gulping my medicine – ice, sugar, lime and all – to come up with, “This week, or in general”? My irritation was forgiven, as with the sound of her charming laughter, she patted my wrist to counter, “Let’s start with this week”.  

This week, we were trekking up the coast, all the way from Durban. Her gaze locked on my sorrowful eyes as she explored, “and before that”? There was no before that! I was abducted by the aliens who had wiped out my entire memory and abandoned me in S. Africa … after so much prodding and probing, of course!  

She could forgive my elusiveness, my faults – like people do, when forged to meet in an unforgiving world. Besides, she was happy to witness my love of seafood … she couldn’t trust a man who didn’t like raw oysters. Her lips were round and inviting scallops, glistened with a subtle hint of olive oil. Her braided hair could catch a sea of fish. Her bright eyes could light the ocean night, from horizon to horizon.

I sat there under the gazebo, listening to her every story, complain and thought. She was basking in my admiration, and her dark face was burning like a never-ending lump of coal. All my jokes were funny. Her kind pats turned into holdings. We pranced to dancing and were thrilled by a kiss.


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Shazde Asdola Mirza


by Shazde Asdola Mirza on

Will try to make the next one funnier.

کلاه مخملی


کلاه مخملی

شما چرا بیشتر فارسی نمی نویسی برادر ... :)

من یادم می یاد اون خاطرات دوران دانش اموزیت تو امریکا ...  خیلی با حال بود ... ادامش بده ... :)



Flying Solo

Oh love

by Flying Solo on

Shazde Jan,

Love only has one meaning - A finite moment, stolen in life, when the whole of one's attention is focussed on the whole of another. From ice cream to African Queen, it's all good. :)

Here is something for your brush with the beauty.



Why does this story remind me of this silly tune?

by Aryana-Vaeja on


Love is in the air

by divaneh on

Lovely story Shazde Jaan. You are too romantic and that quality can only be cherished. Just let me know where you bought your Frisbee.

Multiple Personality Disorder


by Multiple Personality Disorder on

I'd imagine they went deep under.

13th Legion

The Spice must flow…;)

by 13th Legion on

Shazdeh jaan it looks like we have some things in common, my main hobbies are mixing and compiling music, photo collage and reading, and I also wrote a few short stories a few years back that were inspired by some personal experiences and dreams. I have to admit that reading some of your writing has inspired me to perhaps post some of the old stories and perhaps write new ones ;)

Your dark beauty experience took me back to a time when I was dating a beautiful Creole girl with olive skin and green eyes all though our relationship lasted for less than a year she had given me a kitten for my birthday that also had green eyes and ended up by my side for 18 years and passed away last march.

With no doubt, it is such unexpected romantic experiences that gives life some color and spice and brings us back to truly FEELING ALIVE, all through I am currently stuck in the rut of this horrible economy I am dreaming and planning for a two week trip to Thailand, an exotic tropical destination, sea food, olive skin beauties and a chance to play Marc Anthony or Cesar for a few weeks.

I hope you have exchanged numbers with the African queen, I’m assuming she may have had an English accent to add to the thrill ;)

Cheers Shazdeh jaan, we must keep the joy and spice of life a flow ;)

Shazde Asdola Mirza

پرنده تنها

Shazde Asdola Mirza

Thanks for the name suggestion, maybe after it runs its course on the front page.

"Love" can have so many meanings, which make it always confusing to my lost soul. Like, we can love ice cream, a friend, a painting, a lover, a cat, a story ...

This time, love was more like admiration towards a complete set of beauty - body, soul and presentation. Staring at a dark Mona Liza and just "loving" it. 

Shazde Asdola Mirza

13th Legion, dear

by Shazde Asdola Mirza on

You are very kind, and I truly appreciate your support. Yes, a string of facts can make a decent newscast, but is not art. You are also right, that an art empty and isolated from the truth can become distant and unattractive. It's like painting (my original hobby) where total realism gets you close to bad photography, but complete abstract forms lose their human touch and influence.  

For this story, I met an absolutely beautiful African queen yesterday. We talked a bit and shared some laughs, but I couldn’t let go. I felt a need to admire her to the world, to immortalize her body and soul. The temptation to preserve such moments and such beauty is perhaps what makes people paint with color or words. But the setting where we met was nothing special and romantic, so I decided to transport her image to one of my African trips.  

PS: thanks for the music clip, which is timely and lovely! 

Shazde Asdola Mirza

با تشکر از دوستان

Shazde Asdola Mirza

Dirty Angel: don't be alarmed - it wasn't that kind of love!

Faramarz jan: glad to see that you've been blessed too ;-)

Vildemose: Like you, I was never fond of braids, till that encounter.

MPD dear: The fun part of an unfinished story is the unlimited possibilities for the reader ... to imagine and enjoy.

Multiple Personality Disorder

Soooo, did it end with that thrilling kiss?

by Multiple Personality Disorder on

Orrrrr, did they ever swim in that beautiful sea?


Her braided hair could

by vildemose on

Her braided hair could catch a sea of fish

I can just picture in my mind's eyes. Not very romantic...lol

Flying Solo

Ebony maybe

by Flying Solo on

Shazde Jaan,

I clicked on your blog thinking that it would be about something dark and sinister (to do with love). A great fan of your dark humor, I knew I'd be in for a treat.

But what do I find? To my surprise, a little lustful story, deliciously told. Delightful. 

Why not call it Ebony Spectacle? That would have been more - how shall I say, mysterious in a multi-entendre kinda' way - your forte. :) 

13th Legion

Shazde Asdola Jaan,

by 13th Legion on

You are a gifted writer and (both in Farsi & English) indeed, for storey telling is a fine art, it’s also nice to see that despite all the madness in our times, you are still managing to keep the imagination flowing for as dear Albert quote: “Imagination is more important than knowledge” + we both know that there is a little bit of truth to every story ;) thanks for sharing a good story to go along with the Friday morning coffee.

Was also delighted that you picked such an original exotic destonation and a “Dark Beauty” instead of a Persian princes that would transform into a ferocious dragon after the first kiss ;))

Here’s an interesting music clip that was just e-mailed to me thought it may be a good compliment for some background music to your story ;)









Poor thing, must have been DESPERATE ;-)

by kazem0574 on

And then he woke up..............Oh NO.. another day in a small room and still living with the parents.


Chick Magnets

by Faramarz on

!Chocolate Lips, Firm Bodies, Heaven on Earth

Thanks Shazde. Babies and dogs are the ultimate chick magnets. I try to borrow them any chance I get


اگر آن سیاه برزنگی به دست آرد دل ما را

به خال هندویش بخشم سمرقند و بخارا را  


Dirty Angel

gene defect

by Dirty Angel on

خداوند منو عوضی‌ درست کرده.حتما چند تا جین مین یادش رفته بود سرو
هم بکنه.* همه چقدر عشقی‌ هستید، صبح اول وقت. بخصوص مردا. حساسو
رمانتیکین. من میترسم!

(بعدشم آدمو دعوا می‌کنید. خوب من آدم نیستم،  فرشتم، ولی‌ فوری بغض تو گلوم و اشک تو چشمایم جم میشن...)

"Why do you want to be happy when you could just be normal?"


چی‌ بگم؟ مسلمونه دیگه*....