Fiction

Christmas Eve

“Go talk to your professors, do something. The entire summer you worked for the university and they paid you nothing,” she wiped her tears.

“I owe them tuitions for the last two semesters.”

“Talk to the Foreign Students Advisor. Tell her we’ve two small kids.”

“I already did. She said that’s the university policy. If there is a balance, they garnish my income.”

“They do what to your income?” >>>

عطر خوش بختی

به فروشگاه عطرهای چینی سر زدم تا شاید عطر خوش بختی را پیدا کنم .جیمز فروشنده جوان فروشگاه هر چه گشت عطری را که با نام صدایش کرده بودم پیدا نکرد .دیگر خسته از جستجوی چند ماهه شده بودم. ساعت کهنه ی دیواری پنج بار نواخت و جیمز خودش را برای بستن مغازه آماده کرد. وقتی عقربه ی ساعت شصت ثانیه را گذراند در تارو پود کنار پنچره عطر را پیدا کردم. خودش بود. با همان نام و با همان مشخصات! دو بسته ی گلبرگ گل سرخ هم خریدم تا وقتی بیایی روی سرت از بالای تخت بریزم. خودت بهتر از هر کسی می دانی چقدر گل سرخ دوست دارم. بویش همیشه مستم می کند. مادر قبل از اینکه به خانه ی آقای خدا برود گل های تازه در باغچه ی خانه کاشته بود! >>>

Cold Rain

Didn’t I stroll under its refreshing mist a thousand times? Didn’t it make me wet on the way to school? Didn’t it ruin my homework times and again? Didn’t the young palms of my hands endure the sting of punishment every time? Didn’t it give me the cold, the congested nose and the cough and the horrible taste of cough syrup afterward? Didn’t I drop the vitamin C tablet in a glass of water, dazzled with the fizzle and down it with a frown? Wasn’t it all because of rain?>>>

George Willoughby

My friendship with Mr. Willoughby started after the tasting of one of my creations which had proven to be especially scrumptious. This clearly was the cue he required to offer a gracious compliment. After the pleasantries he approached the delicate subject of asking me for a date. “Lady Solo, I was wondering the other day, to myself, whether, by any stroke of luck, you may be interested in an outing of sorts. I say, might I have the pleasure of your company on Sunday next? I should very much like to take you for a drive through the country to a delightful little tea room which my late wife and I used to frequent. It would be awfully good of you to join me.” Well, I was flattered, surprised and pleased at the same time>>>

پول سیگار

ما بچه ها تقریبا همه بختیاری بودیم. صنعت نفت که راه افتاد و کار که فراوان شد خیلی ها ماندنی شدند و ییلاق گرمسیر ورافتاد. صبحها نان تیری را با یک استکان چای شیرین میخوردیم و راه می افتادیم طرف مدرسه. فارسی و املا و حساب. خیلی وقتا دقیقه شماری میکردیم تا زنگ تفریح را بزنند که برویم بیرون و با هم لری(بختیاری) حرف بزنیم. ناظم مدرسه بارها سر صف روز شنبه که ناخنهای دستها را بازدید میکرد و بلندی و کوتاهی موی ماشین شده سرمان را، تذکر می داد که اگر میخواهیم ترقی و پیشرفت کنیم بایستی از همین حالا فارسی حرف بزنیم. البته ما نمی دانستیم ترقی و پیشرفت یعنی چه. از اون گذشته، خجالت می کشیدیم فارسی حرف بزنیم. چون قاتی می کردیم و بعدش بچه ها برایمان دست میگرفتند. >>>

Swimming with a Mollah

He got to the house, crossing the crunching graveled drive in front, and made his way up to the landing, after seeing the large wooden open doors. It looked as if the house was eager to invite a stranger in for a visit, once again. The house was empty. As he walked inside he noticed broken windows and stained chalky walls. Dirt dried after a rain once had flooded the inside, covering chipped tile and a rough marble floor. He made his way through the old house, and came into what was most likely the sitting room. The large square room had a balcony at the far end, and as he came closer to it, he could see more of this morning's mountains and scenery through the broken doors and windows. He stepped onto the balcony and noticed that the garden was surprisingly well kept and quite lovely.>>>

Cock Fighters

"The ranks that you wear on your uniforms represent the chain of command. The soldiers with the higher ranks will give you orders. You must obey orders. This system is a hierarchy. The tradition and history of the ranks is as follows: each mark on your rank represents a penis! A private has one penis, a corporal has two, and a sergeant has three." One of my Basic Military Qualifications instructors mentioned these words with a grin on his face. I was becoming a young soldier in the Canadian Forces and I did not at the time appreciate what these words represented. In the instructor's example, the symbolism of domination and patriarchy were clear. In fact, these words in a way defined the five years of my experience as a soldier.>>>

سرخوشی های ساده

آدم ِ روز بود. هر ساعتِ شب که می خوابید، پنج وُ نیم، شش صبح بیدار میشد. حتی روزهای تعطیل. انگار در سرش ساعت کار گذاشته بودند. با این همه هرشب، ساعت اتوماتیک ِ رادیو- ضبط را روی شش صبح تنظیم می کرد تا مبادا روزی از خستگی خواب بماند. مثل امروز که بیدار خوابی دیشب و خوردن اندکی شراب، باعث شد تا با صدای گوینده فارسی زبان موج بامدادی، بیدار شود. در جایش غلطید. بدنش را کِش و قوس داد. یک آن شد گربه سیاه و پشمالوی همسایه در زیر آفتاب. به سمت چپ چرخید. بر جای خالی پیکر فرهاد دست سایید. به ملافه چنگ زد و بالش او را که هنوز رایحه اُدکلن اش را در خود داشت، در بغل گرفت. شادی، مثل موجی خنک زیر پوستش دوید. از این که فرهاد سحرخیزتر از خودش بود و چنان با ملاحظه، که حتی وقت رفتن، بیدارش نکرده بود، بیشتر از او خوشش آمد. >>>

شکار!

یکی از کافی شاپ های شهر، با نور کافی، مبلمان راحت، وسعت فضا، و از همه مهمتراینکه هر قدر می نشستی، اخمی را از گردانندگان آن نمی دیدی، پاتق قرار هایم بود. با پاره ای از دوستان گاه ساعت ها آنجا می نشستیم و از هر دری صحبت می کردیم. با اینکه جای خیلی مناسبی برای خواندن تکه های ادبی نبود، گاه این کار را می کردیم. آنچه داستان شکار را شکل داد بر خورد اتفاقی ام با " اکبر " بود که همراه یکی از دوستان به این مکان آمده بود. تازه مهاجرت کرده بود. طی چند نشست با انبرک کنجکاوی اسکلت آنچه را که می خوانید از زوایای ذهن اش بیرون کشیدم. در حقیقت داستان شکار یک داستان واقعی است با تغییر اسامی. و نشانگر یکی دیگر از مصائب جنگی است که می توانست رخ ندهد.>>>

The Good Old Days

The first few dates are fine, but somewhere around the fourth or fifth date, there'll be a couch and a T.V. - this will be in her apartment, not mine, since I have only a couch - and I know how nice a couch is and I know how nice sitting close together and touching is, and I know how much we deserve to sit and rest and let someone else do the living for a little bit, and I know how much it feels like living when we can talk about what we are watching, in a way that we couldn't talk about a book or a song on the radio, and it is like everything is laid out nice and easy, the two of us on the couch together and all that life on the television screen, everything is laid out nice and easy except for the world, except for just that one thing that asks you to be small at first>>>

Becoming

Betty was my best friend. We were both obsessed with Orhan Pamuk. I have to confess that this obsession didn’t come to our mind naturally. It was like an inspiration by God or at least from one of his angels. At first it was a simple love. Like loving a pet, or a second cousin. But it changed on the day I noticed the subtle sarcasm on Pamuk’s lips, in a picture taken during the Nobel ceremony. Before going farther to confuse you – my dear reader – I have to tell you about myself and how everything started in the mind of your humble servant, a man with limited knowledge about the world>>>

King’s Cross

After the tunnel of darkness, there was finally light as the train pulled into the station. A sudden jolt thrust the passengers forward and inertia pulled them back once the carriage came to a complete stop. I was convinced we were lost. I had explained to him on the way how we were headed in the wrong direction. Now that the train had stopped I was not so sure. There were too many different color tracks meeting at this very stop. I was confused. So I said we needed to disembark and reset the course. He nodded. I took the gesture as assent. The doors slid open. A rush of bodies spilled out of the carriage and with it so did I. Terra Firma. I expected to find him right behind me. I looked over my shoulder, to the left and then to my right. I turned around and was aghast to find that he had remained behind on the train>>>

The Widow’s Tale

I felt an upheaval in the universe. Not a single atom shifted position or changed state, but the world flipped, as though it had been a perceptual illusion. The cube that turns inside out, the chalice that becomes two faces. But when the cube turning inside out is the whole universe, the sensation is no longer one of amusement. It is the utmost terror. The jinn kept his imploring stare on me. My instinct was to run out of the cemetery. But the walls receded explosively in all directions, enlarging the graveyard faster than I could hope to run. All around me was nothing but an expanding ocean of Koranic verses interspersed with dates of birth and dates of death. This is it! I thought to myself>>>

داستانی نه تازه

مرد راه داشت که از کنار آن دو تا دختر که نزدیک به در، روبروی هم ایستاده بودند رد شود اما نمی دانم چرا آمد درست ازمیان آن دو گذشت و کیف سیاه پلاستیکی اش اصابت کرد به دست دختری که هم داشت حرف می زد و هم روغنی به لبهای خود می مالید. دخترگفت "هوی!" مرد نشنید یا نشنیده گرفت؟ و سرانجام چیزی را که می خواست ازتوی جیب بغل درآورد، یک بلیط اتوبوس بود، آمد کنارمن ایستاد که کمی آنسوتر چسبیده به شیشه ایستاده بودم وسعی می کردم بی آنکه دخترها متوجه شوند نگاهشان کنم، و مرد حالا داشت دنبال کسی می گشت که بلیط خود را به او بدهد، انگار نمی دانست در اینجور اتوبوسها تو فقط باید بلیط خود را در جیب داشته باشی که اگرماموران مربوطه وارد شدند بلیطت را به آنان نشان بدهی.دخترگفت "با کیف لعنتی ش داشت من را کورمی کرد.">>>

Pulse

At the office Christmas party, my boss told me about a new gym that recently opened in the area. On the way back home one day I drove past the plaza and looked up to see a big neon sign announcing the arrival of ‘Pulse’ to my neighborhood. I fell in love with the name. So I punched a reminder in my Blackberry to take my personal pulse to the one down the road sometime soon. We had been out the night before and hadn’t got home till late – the last of the holiday parties eke out every ounce of joy and goodwill. So when the alarm goes off at 7 a.m. on the first Sunday of January, I am none too thrilled to remember my New Year resolution. His leg plops over mine – his code for “how about a little”. >>>