Welcome to Book Readers Heaven! Find Books, Reviews, Short Stories, Authors, Publicity, a little poetry, music to complement...and other stuff including politics, about life... "Books, Cats: Life is Sweet..."
Went out to park at the reservoir. The wind was chopping up the waves. But the birds didn't seem to mind.
I sat in the car for awhile. Just staring out. Feeling something deep in my soul I needed to get out. I walked up to the water and put down some tobacco. And I bowed my head to Grandfather.
Thank you for this day. Thank you for the food and water. Thank you for my health. Thank you for letting me see things in your light. Thank you for the patience you show me when I am downcast and tired of everything. Thank you for the help you send in my need through the ones who come to my aid. Thank you for this long time of solitude that I might find myself and separating me from the world of evil doers. Thank you for my struggles and this poverty, that have forged my faith. Thank you for watching over my family and friends. Thank you for sending me a good friend for years, Homie my cat friend. I thank you for everything.
As the sun began to sink behind the distant hills, I drove away and came back to this trailer. Still pretty hot inside. Homie cried to me that he was hungry. So I fed him and after he went outside.
I hope you have a peaceful evening.
A'ho
I've been having a hard time, and anxiety and depression bring me down
I have battled against both since I was a boy, and haven't let that take me out. Being at this age is harder to snap out of it.
I accomplished what has taken decades of struggle to do, and that is I completed my memoir. But it doesn't take away the daily struggles to survive and take care of myself. I haven't been able to enjoy a little, life and its goodness.
I have another book that I've been working on for some time, and I hope to complete it soon.
I am into my thirtieth year free of firewater. And lately with all the stresses, I live one day at a time to continue with that.
The hospital stay and illness took something away from me.
Anyway, I would be grateful if I can get buyers to order The Elder. Every little bit helps. I don't live beyond my means. Just simple as I can.
When my book is finally published it will mean a lot to me. If you have never written a book you have no idea the time and difficulty and heartaches it takes to write about your life story.
With six books completed I still have a hard time convincing people to help in what they can so I can at least get by monthly.
I pray you have a blessed day
It's How It Is
Poem from My Book Santa Nella Blues
On a cold December
Winter solstice night
I kickback
Sip on coffee
Turn on the burners
Of the stove
and spin my wheels
Santa Claus and Baby Jesus
Blinking colored lights
Joy to the world vibes
Are not here tonight
I look in the rearview mirror
At all those wonderful years
We gathered like family
At grandparents' homes
Bellies bulging with tamales
celebrating Baby Jesus' birthday
With Santa Claus on the way
There was always music playing
Holiday and Mexican classics
There was always the laughter of generations
With no end in sight
Our grandpas and grandmas
Looking on with delight
The ones who
Brought the family
Together
The elders
But they're all gone
We don't do that anymore
~~~
Yaqui Warrior Oath
"There will be no more daylight nor night for you.
There will be no more death for you
There will be no more pain for you.
There will be no more heat, thirst or hunger
for you, or rain, air, illness, or family
Nothing can intimidate you.
Everything has ended for you, except for one thing
The fulfillment of your duty.
You will keep the position you were assigned for the
defense of your nation, of your people, of your race, of
your customs, of your religion."
And then the warriors were asked:
"Do you swear to obey the divine commandment."
(Santa Nella Blues was dedicated in memory to many indigenous friends.)
*******
Tu'i bijpaam
I was a boy about to enter my teens on a hot summer's day. Grandpa was standing in the distance, smoking his cigar and walked up to me. He said, I'm going to teach you to drive a car. Get in your mom's car. It was a 54 Ford parked in the weeds. He stood holding the open door to guide me and told me to start the car, and put it in drive and hit the pedal soft and slow. Ok, Grandpa. As I started to drive I pushed the pedal too hard and the old Ford spun out and grandpa was yelling for me to put my foot on the brake. I panicked and nearly crushed grandpa into a little tree. Well, that was the only time grandpa tried to teach me to drive. I learned to on my own over time. Ever since then I've felt that I had let grandpa down and that's why he gave up on me. But tonight, it came into my thoughts. He didn't give up on me. He taught me the basics on how to drive a car. But he let me learn, by practice, on my own. I learned.
That hot summer's day came back this hot summer's night. And released me from a lifetime of guilt and shame of that.
Thank you Grandfather.
A'h
The past couple of weeks I have had a rough time trying to sleep early. I have been staying awake until the early morning hours and sleeping past noon. These stresses have worked into depression and this solitude has beaten me down.
This memoir has taken years to work on, a hundred drafts and going over it more times than I can count. So many times I've swore to stop. Give up. It's as if an unseen force or forces come at me to discourage and hinder me from completing it. The help I need to see this book completed, trickles in now and then. I hate asking but I have no other way to get by as it is. Finding work when I can is usually manual labor to clean properties and physically at my age harms me. It frustrates me to no end.
I could use some encouragement and help and prayers. Thank you.
During the last few days I've been helping an immigrant from Iran with his memoir as well. My understanding of Manny's wish to update and expand his memoir is totally understandable to me and I've helped as I am able... I add to his last plea to honor and confirm that I have been helping Manny by sharing his books here as well as by financial support.
For these men, and many others especially at this time under this administration in the United States, I found that what has been done to both, historically affected their very lives so deeply that they want and, really, need to have some type of confirmative response from others who understand just how much damage, that rich white men, have done, often through the manipulation of religion and outright lies about what God wants for His children...
Many many people are writing about what has happened in the United States. While millions/billions are being made, the middle and lower people in financial income brackets are, often, to the point of starving, without any hope offered from the government. Indeed, they are the ones that are causing the financial problems, while lying, and millions of little/major changes are being made in which rights of our citizens have been totally removed...
Let me be frank, the millions of dollars that is spent for politics is ridiculous in my opinion and others have began to question exactly why so much is felt to be required... for merely doing a job... I gave during the 2020 election, only to discover the fickleness of many who look to the government for everything. It really shouldn't work that way, right? Bottom line, if politics has become so bad that citizens are expected to pay extra just to be allowed to vote for our own choices, something has gone very wrong... and it is clear by the increase to the deficit now occurring, that this particular administration has worked to destroy what had already been accomplished on behalf of residents of the nation. If I have a little extra, I provide for "the least of these..." as asked by God Himself... It has worked for me inasmuch as now I'm being told which individuals to give priority for my support in time and, if possible, funds...
If his words, at all, made you concerned about Manny, my adopted in spirit brother, while reading this article, I hope you will open your hearts and figure out just how you can help those who are being targeted by the white supremacists who are daily taking more and more from people all other the country who cannot even afford to provide food on their tables...
Who could have guessed when a land we now call the United States was discovered and people came to find their "freedom..." that some, in turn, immediately used force, lies, and tricks to manipulate the tribes of indigenous people who were already living here... Just because of the color of their skin... How else could this type of prejudice have continued for hundreds of years... And, now, coming to a point where the United States is merely another country such as Russia, Germany, England, and so many others who feel that they could use force/violence to steal to make themselves richer... No wonder this group of republicans are striving to delete their own dirty history... of repeating exactly the type of oppression which caused their ancestors to relocate...to a new land...
God Bless Manny and all those who are embarrassingly forced to beg under this administration...
Gabby
Please watch for a post tomorrow on my sister blog. I found a video when I was looking for the last song which I've loved and sang for many years... You all need to see it as an attachment of today's and many other posts on my two blogs...
I didn’t know where to start. I thought it’s better to begin from childhood, which is the golden era of life. Because the personality of each person is formed in this period and there is no better alternative for that.
Like other children, my childhood was full of sadness and joy. I was born into a large family. We were nine siblings and were born almost one to two years after each other. I was the third child and the eldest son in the family. One year after my birth, my younger brother, Mohammad, was born into our family. Mohammad and my two older sisters, Fatima and Zahra were my playmates. We played together and made mischief, but I was the one often punished by my parents!
My parents were from two completely different worlds in terms of personal characteristics. My father was a tall, handsome man with a thick mustache and shaved beard. He had colored penetrating eyes and with stereotypes of Western movie actors. He had an extroverted and easygoing personality. He always wore marked jeans and sneakers, but never liked to wear an undershirt. My father’s literacy was poor because he had left the school after Grade Six and helped with his family business--cattle breeding--as a teenager. He was interested in hunting. When he was eighteen years old, he left for Tehran to serve in the military. He had purchased a double-rifle shotgun with its accessories after completing the military service and two years later he married my mother. My mother was a simple housewife. In contrast to my father’s looks, she was short and had a round face. She was a modest and traditional religious woman and always wore a scarf even at home. She had an introverted and thoughtful personality, and always a sadness rippling in her eyes. She was a patient wife and was in charge of all the housework. Unfortunately, though, my mother was illiterate and never went to school. Because of the prevalence of patriarchal culture in traditional families at the time, many families did not see the school environment as suitable for girls and would ban girls from going to school.
My parents didn’t have a romantic relationship. In their life together, they never expressed their love for each other in public. I never saw my parents hold each other’s hands and kiss or hug each other. At that time, masculinity was more prevalent in social life and there were few people who expressed their feelings in public. For years, I have always wondered how my parents got married with these obvious differences. I later found out that they were married in order to strengthen the connection between the two tribes. My parents were both born and raised in traditional religious families in Kelardasht. Kelardasht is a mountainous region surrounded by highland covered with forest and pine trees in the north of Iran. My mother belongs to the Gilak tribe, the main tribe of the northern part of Iran but my father belonged to a native Iranian Kurdish tribe known as Khajeh-Vand, which has a tendency to Yarsan or Ahl al-Haqq.
Followers of Yarsan believe in the principles of purity, honesty, humility and chivalry. Having a mustache is important for men who follow the Yarsan religion and it is tied to their beliefs. Their religious ceremonies are accompanied by playing the tambourine. There is no such thing as death in the Yarsan religion, as adherents believe in the reincarnation of the soul. My paternal ancestors were originally from the western part of Iran. During the wars of history, many Kurdish tribes from western Iran were gradually moved to the borders and northern areas of the country to protect the area and to prevent local uprisings, and the Khajeh-Vand tribe was settled in Kelardasht. The men of our tribe were tall and stocky. They often had guns and were fond of hunting and horse riding. People of our tribe were engaged in agriculture and animal husbandry and had a nomadic life. Due to geographical and climatic requirements, they rode horses and mules and moved through foothills among the Forest Mountains from Kelardasht to the plain areas for grazing livestock and agriculture.
According to my parents, marriage between the Khajeh-Vand and Gilak tribes in Kelardasht was taboo for many years after the Khajeh-Vand tribe moved to Kelardasht. Later, the families of two tribes intermarried in order to make ties between two tribes firm and lasting. My parents’ wedding took place in a very traditional way. Shortly after my father married my mother, my uncle (my mother’s brother) married my aunt (my father’s sister) in order to make their lives stable and permanent!
Unfortunately, though, my father was addicted to heroin and sometimes abused alcohol. As a result, he didn’t pay much attention to us. It was as if we were from another family and not sired by my father. I don’t remember my father caressing me. Sometimes I wondered if my father knew I was his child! He gave very little money to my mother. However, my mother was satisfied and pleased with whatever she received. With this little amount of money, she turned the wheel of the house, as the saying goes. All my father’s love could be summed up in smoking, hunting and his Honda 750CC motorcycle. My father bought the motorcycle and a liquor shop in the city from the sale of the lands that he had inherited from my grandfather. The shop was located in the main square of the city and he had obtained a license to sell beverages. It was the only liquor store in the town. At that time, the motorcycle was a precious commodity. My father liked to say that when he bought his motorcycle, it was more expensive than the Iran national car, Paykan, which had just entered the market.
My grandfather was a tall man with a small beard and a thick mustache. He was the steward of the Khalatbari family in the district. The Khalatbari family was the feudal lords of Tonekabon district in the northern province of Iran. By order of Mohammad Reza Shah, the Land Reform Law was approved by the parliament in 1960. According to this law, agricultural lands were liberated from feudal lords and large landowners and divided among farmers. My grandfather, as one of the official farmers in the district, obtained the ownership documents for his occupied lands. My grandfather was a tidy man. He wore a long coat and a velvet hat. He had poor eyesight and wore glasses. He was born and married to my grandmother in Kelardasht. My grandparents had seven children and worked all their livelihood to prosperity of their life and upbringing of their children. I never saw my grandmother because she had died before I was born. My father used to say that she was a woman of sacrifice and was opposed to the sale of land by grandfather. One day when she found out that grandfather had sold a part of the land to a local businessman, she was angry and left for her father’s house in Kelardasht until my grandfather was forced to reclaim the land, and then my grandmother came back home. Grandfather was a kind and
disciplined man. He loved me more than his other grandchildren and took me with him everywhere. He always would say, “Get up early in the morning so that the world becomes yours!” My grandfather was one of the prominent people in the city and was respected by the townspeople. He was a traditional religious man and adhered to his beliefs. If anyone had a vow, he would come to my grandfather and he would pray. He used to advise me to become a “mullah” when I grew up! But I did not want to be a mullah. In my opinion, mullahs1 were obese and ugly!
I remember when I was little, my grandfather took all of us on a trip to Mashhad, the only long trip I took during my childhood. It was a pilgrimage to visit the shrine of Imam Reza. At that time, because vehicles were not so available, people traveled less and their travels were limited to pilgrimages, even for honeymoon! I, my mother, siblings, and some relatives traveled to Mashhad in a minibus rented by my grandfather. When I traveled with my grandfather, he always chose the front seat next to the driver and hugged me until the destination. It is about a thousand kilometers to Mashhad, a trip of about a day and a night. My grandfather rented a house near to the shrine. Next day, early in the morning, he took me to the pilgrimage. There was a large crowd of pilgrims around the shrine, who stretched out their hands and tried to touch and kiss it. Grandfather first approached the shrine himself and then held me high, guiding me above the heads of pilgrims to the shrine. In those years, I learned the concept of life amongst our relatives primarily through my grandfather’s behavior and personality. Although he was in his eighties, he continued working and paid close attention to his family. There is only one old photo of my grandparents which had been taken during a pilgrimage trip to the holy city of Mashhad. In the photos, my grandparents are seen with two of their grandchildren, and behind them is a view of the shrine of Imam Reza, the eighth Imam of the Shiites.
Strangely enough, the exact day of my birth is unknown. According to my mother, I was born in February 1975 in Motel Qu. Motel Qu, or Motel Swan in English, is a coastal city on the shores of the Caspian Sea in the northernmost part of Iran. My birth certificate shows my date of birth in August 1974 in Kelardasht. Because my family moved to Kelardasht in the summer and my mother wanted to send me to school earlier, she issued my birth certificate for August in Kelardasht. Both Kelardasht, and Motel Qu are a part of Mazandaran province, the northern province of Iran, which is covered with forested mountains, fertile plains and agricultural lands.
In the northern part of Iran, the sense of life and the aroma of living is tied to the green color of paddy and the golden clusters of rice. Men and women work side by side in farms. The people of northern Iran are known to have strong, hardworking personalities and to be invincible in wrestling. My parents named me Seyed Mehdi. Seyed, or lord in English, is an Arabic title of respect used for the descendants of Fatima, daughter of the prophet Mohammad, and Mehdi is a name derived from the last Shiite Imam. Calling children by the name of Seyed Mehdi is a religious fashion in Iran.2
At the time of my birth, Motel Qu was a modern and newly established city. It was established by Jamshid Javanshir, a young capitalist in love with the sea and forest. Jamshid and his wife, Parimarz Firouzgar, who were from families affiliated with the king’s court, established the city. My father used to say that before the establishment of Motel Qu, there were only a few far-flung rural houses in the district. At that time only our tribe and a few other families lived in the area. During the daytime, only one or two trucks were driven through the old dust road near the beach which was the only way between Tonekabon and Chalus cities.
According to my father, Jamshid, simple and unadulterated and with bare feet, walked on the beaches and ruined forests full of alder and maple, and thorny trees of locust and pomegranates. The thorns of the Caspian locust reach 12 centimeters. My father used to say that one day a locust’s thorn hurt Jamshid’s leg, and he came to my grandfather and said, “What trees are these in your region?!”
For the first few years, Motel Qu was known as Saghi Kelayeh, which derived from the name of Jamshid’s daughter, but later was changed to Motel Qu because of the family’s love of the swan. Jamshid’s wife was also the first female mayor in the country. At the time of my birth in 1974, Motel Qu was a modern city with large buildings, beautiful commercial and recreational complexes, and broad streets with clean alleyways. Everywhere you could see villas with extensive cars. There was a large parking lot with the symbol of Persepolis, as well as a cinema, amusement park, seaside beach, traditional wrestling square, sports club, telephone and post office. Many army members and high-ranking people in the imperial system had flourishing gardens and prosperous villas in the area. Many travelers and tourists, financiers and investors came to this city, and very soon Motel Qu became distinguished from the other nearby cities. The charm of this small town was such that many people referred to it as the bride of the northern cities!
I do not remember much from that time, but my parents used to say that people had an easy life. The city was full of joy and vitality. People could freely drink alcohol in public and women went to the beach in bikinis and swimsuits. Almost all artists and singers came to the Motel on weekends to perform concerts and TV shows. My father said, “When Fereydoun Farrokhzad, an Iranian singer and TV showman, came to Motel Qu, I would ride him on my motorcycle and take him to other cities to perform his programs. Sometimes we came to KhanMorad’s house to get opium!”
KhanMorad, a longtime employee of my grandfather’s, had received an acre of my grandfather’s land in appreciation of his efforts. This period of happiness did not last long, however. I was about five years old when the 1979 revolution happened in Iran. The main slogan of the revolution was “Independence, Freedom and the Islamic Republic”. The people made revolution with the aim of freeing political prisoners, and obtaining freedom of expression, justice and the elimination of discrimination. In a referendum held that year, more than 98 percent of the people voted in favor of establishing the government of the Islamic Republic.
Ayatollah Khomeini, the Supreme leader of the revolution, was a mullah. Almost all members of our family loved him and spoke of him with a certain enthusiasm. I still remember that at the beginning of the revolution, people quoted the Ayatollah’s promises to each other from his first speech in Iran after the Islamic Revolution, from material prosperity to the attainment of an exalted humanity. People were looking at the moon, seeing the Ayatollah in it and showing the photo to each other. I was upset that I couldn’t see his image on the moon! After the revolution, everything suddenly changed and gradually things happened that today almost everyone regrets. After the revolution and during the period of the interim government, Iran faced a series of rampages at the hand of extremist revolutionaries. During these nationwide rampages, any construction depicting or citing the name of the deposed Shah and his family was destroyed. At the time, our town underwent many changes. Perhaps no city in Iran was as devastated as the Motel Qu. The Cinema was completely destroyed and unusable; the entrance to the Motel Qu was removed and the parking lot in the form of Persepolis was demolished; the Neptune Hotel, along with its pier, casinos, and clubs was completely destroyed; the property of public centers and military camps was looted. They didn’t even spare the amusement park! And the extremists destroyed it with everything in it. Finally, the city was renamed from Motel Qu to SalmanShahr! Interestingly no news of these events was published anywhere.
One day as I was walking down the main road, I saw people gathered around the town square. I went forward and saw a person lying on a bench and whipped. I looked a little closer and saw that he is one of the youths in our city. I knew him pretty well. He was one of the nice young men who lived in our neighborhood. He had been arrested for having a romantic relationship with a girl. I was very upset to see him. His back was bruised and injured. After the Islamic Revolution, religious minorities also watched the process of changes with concern. With the establishment of the Islamic government, pressure on religious minorities became apparent. The followers of the religions of Yarsan were also concerned about the changes. From the early days after the Islamic Revolution, there were rumors that the government was going to launch attacks on the followers of Yarsan. In the constitution of the Islamic Republic of Iran, the Yarsan are not recognized as a religious minority. It was said from the start that the new government would not allow them to perform religious ceremonies and shave their mustaches. One day, prison officials shaved the mustache of a Yarsan prisoner to humiliate him. It was easier to do these things in the 1980s when the Internet and information systems were not available. Several people set themselves on fire in protest of the insulting acts. Even nowadays, revealing ideas to Yarsan followers will cause problems. They have to keep their religion and beliefs hidden even in employment forms and university entrance exams. As a result, thousands of Yarsan followers have emigrated from Iran and are left to hope that one day they will be able to return and live freely in Iran. I have only a black and white photo of my childhood which shows me sitting in a wooden highchair. In this photo I am one year old and I look at the camera with an angry state.
~~~~~~
With this first discussion about my thoughts on this book, I decided I'd include more of the front of the book and how this author began. I was pleased when I kept coming up with parallels between Seyed's family, environment and the role of those mentioned in the book. First just a little tidbit that I've never mentioned... I love swans as well. In fact I have many pictures which are placed in my home, as well as other items... I also have a small collection of females from various countries in the far east--China, India... I had seen performances while I was working at WVU, and was fascinated with the retention of the cultural backgrounds that are continued by many... The difference in music styles from around the world has also always been captivating for multiple reasons, which I won't go into at this time.
In other words, I found I was reading this book of a man who was actually living in my lifetime AND who was now involved in his way regarding the war with our country... And what I was reading was important to supporting my present thoughts of what is happening.
I found I could not, or, rather, that I did not want to ignore discussion of today's war as part of my interaction with Seyed.
Although the level of education was totally different for what Seyed was moving toward, there was little difference in what he was facing with administrators, as I did prior to going into Job Burnout. As part of the changes introduced in 1979, and in relation to those who had financial support versus those who did not, was another similarity I found which was intriguing... Could it be that all over the world rich people were purposely working to undermine those without funds, in order to give preference to those who actually could pay? One of the most horrendous changes was that everything was so tightly centralized and controlled by the leaders that each attempt by Seyed and other students had become a monumental hurtle that took time and money to resolve, if it ever did get resolved, that is. Again, I could not help but see that, the Iranians had already achieved a strong control of the powerful while our president was just attempting to move in that direction--as if on a movie set! The difference was not only quite recognizable and, thus, more sobering to consider in relation to today's war...
Please reread what happened when Ayatollah Khomeini first was appointed. There was a time period when people felt there would be good changes, hope restored...and more...
Mullah(s) had been involved in their work for hundreds of years, and were fully prepared to take control at the time it did initiate the upheaval for the Iranian government and people.
But that wasn't the first time, this type of takeover had been attempted, earlier, for the riches of oil...
Let's just say that, Iran had already faced many attempts to use corrupt bribes, violence and more, to maintain their own sovereignty.
Just how many times must people within a country with rich resources on their lands, become "reasons" for somebody else begin to figure out how to manipulate to gain control?
So, today, we now have in the United State, merely another set of characters, but with exactly the same plot. Some minority wants to gain somebody else's richness...just...because...they...want power, no matter what damage...
One thing is clear if you take the time to explore history and learn enough to see that this was not going to be an easy takeover by the U.S. president and financial backers. Immediately we knew something had happened without anybody's approval! It also reveals that not only were they unprepared for action, but were also bombing without any coordination with allies, as routine.... But the majority of people living here have learned that, unfortunately, in the U.S. that this president doesn't read...even to help learn enough to change his mind and NOT attack the country, especially when no evidence was ever provided that there was even a reason for the attack in the first place...
While, it has become abundantly clear that this president did not have the experience nor knowledge to actually implement what he, and others, wanted to do... To obtain power over all things possible... that means that for Iranian citizens, just one more attempt was being made by the use of violence, first...
Perhaps one of these days, people will begin to talk to each other again and communication and possible cooperation between countries will be viewed as necessary for the ongoing improvement of the planet on which we have lived for thousands of years...
Is there a reason to hope?
For Seyed Nourashrafeddin, he determined that his country had become an enemy to his personal and professional freedom...
He started looking outside of Iran to proceed working to achieve his goals...
Will Seyed continue to face dealing with extremists who place power over the needs of those who are citizens but now without freedom?
If the author's time permits, I hope to explore specific issues from his book in discussion format... Please feel free to leave any comments as to whether you'd like to learn more about those who live in countries who has been targeted by others, purely for financial gain...
Just like we all are watching the devastation in our own land...
***
Is this last video fiction, hypothesis, or a potential of a continued method by which we evade working toward a time when we work together? Some in the world do share knowledge rather than choosing hatred or power and, often, violence. In making decisions for ourselves can we ever learn to include planning for all of humanity...???
I felt called to recount my experience as a member of Iran’s so-called “Burnt Generation.” In Iran, the Burnt Generation (Persian: Nasl-e Sukhteh) is the generation born between 1966 and 1990. They have experienced the 1979 revolution, Iran–Iraq War, and political or social consequences of these as children and young adults. I thought by doing so I could possibly help and motivate others who face similar challenges.
In Iran
As of Now in the US, NO LEGAL ACTION HAS OCCURRED!
My heart and mind was greatly touched by this book.
It is a personal memoir of one Iranian Man
It reads like a thriller, a fiction that is so unbelievable even as I knew it was Real...
Simply because it was merely sharing the reality of one man under an authoritarian regime
And I have been corresponding with this young man...
I find that words come to mind that are not yet about the book, but, rather, was brought to mind by this book. A book that I consider a must-read for all those who live in fear, anger, or just plain frustration of the state of the world as of now... For the first time in my life, I am seeing exactly what is happening in the United States... As has been occurring in older authoritarian countries throughout history??? At least that is what it seems to me as I learn new insights daily...
The author said I surprised him with yesterday's post. I can understand that. He had no reference of who I became in 2016 when I also first met a man through his words... BTW, This is a newly revealed video/discussion that I've never seen in toto... This was when The Young Turks first were talking online... It is not an easy video to watch. Especially for women. That's why I feel it is important to reveal the present leader of the U.S.
As I read, the question in the back of my mind, was what can be done to stop this type of madness... A madness that is based on intimidation, lies, criminal actions and the fact that this president initiated a war with the powerful world of Iran and, now, has no idea how to clear up the mess made, including the loss of Iranian children on the very first day of bombing--just as the U.S. is continually confronted with school shootings by guns that a political party refuses to control--and so much more...
"Let There Be Peace on Earth" is a song written by Jill Jackson-Miller and Sy Miller in 1955 calling for world peace and understanding, and inspired by "...the life-saving joy of God's peace and unconditional love" (quote from Jill Jackson-Miller).
The song is performed worldwide throughout the year, and particularly during the Christmas season, which has led to it being considered a Christmas song. It is included in the hymnals of a variety of Christian denominations (including Catholic hymnals) and is used in worship services even by a number of Christian denominations that do not include it in their hymnals.
The song received the George Washington Honor Medal from the Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge for “Outstanding achievement in helping to bring about a better understanding of the American Way of Life.” The National Conference of Christians and Jews has also honored the composers with the Brotherhood Award.
Recorded live by the Sunday 7pm Choir at St. Francis De Sales Church in Ajax, Ontario Canada. Thanks for listening and hope to see you at Mass one Sunday evening soon!
Song Title: Let There Be Peace On Earth
This song received an award... in 1955. I've used different versions often in the last 20 years here at BRH... Seyed's book was my first book read from a citizen of a known authoritarian nation... Leaders of each country demands hatred of the other...claiming the entire country is evil.... Now we see that the older nation is stronger. Perhaps because there has been more years of hatred? Yet, what I now know personally and want to emphasize even more, is that the PEOPLE of each country are the same as you and me. That is saying that those who read and continue to learn and strive for more in their futures could be our brothers and sisters across the world.
We've seen the willingness of certain nations, the US now included, who go to war just for some type of need for more and more power and riches... while ignoring their actual citizens of their home country... as well as those they murder in other countries--Ukraine, Gaza, Iraq, Iran, Germany, North Korea... just a few of those who have leaders who have attempted, and sometimes succeeded, in mandating specific actions that places a man/men as a gawd to be supposedly allowed control of all for their personal pleasure...
At the same time, reading Seyed's story clarifies for me even more deeply what we have been watching as the Ukrainians have fought back as a country. And, now, that one man can also fight within such a nation where humans have become "less" than others in many different ways.
Consider Maria, a fictional character, who lived during still another war where a country was being targeted by another country... Yet, how many times have we had creators provide evidence of what can happen when people of all nations, working together, create! JOY!
I for one miss that Joy that could occur when I left home and walked down by the river, or into an area where I could sit on a large rock and just listen, think, and enjoy the sounds of nature. (Now, just going out alone is a possible unsafe situation with ICE or other criminals freely working among us...) Then! Only to find an introverted friend, Seyed, who tells me that's exactly what he did in his youth... What did each of us gain from those moment alone in God's world? Perhaps he and I will share it in upcoming posts... Plan to visit often... Find the joy that awaits from all that we can be...
Human beings are members of a whole
In creation of one essence and soul
If one member is afflicted with pain
Other members uneasy will remain
If you have no sympathy for human pain
The name of human you cannot retain
A poem by Persian Poet, Sa’adi Shirazi
--In Search of Rain, Opening Pages, by Seyed Nourashrafeddin
As you can see, Seyed's book incited, in a good way, thoughts of brotherhood of man... May you also open your heart and mind to words such as these... More on this book soon...
How long have I been referring to God Incidents here on my blogs? Years, of course, but I hope you all have noticed that God has become a Living Character as Well...
How else could an Iranian Author have approached an American reader of Books and it becomes more than just a review of a new book for sale...
In Search of Rain from Motel Qu to Pittsburgh is a powerful and deeply human memoir chronicling Seyed Nourashrafeddin’s extraordinary journey from the shadows of war and poverty in Iran to academic triumph in the United States. Raised in a small Iranian town during the turbulence of the Islamic Revolution and the Iran-Iraq War, Seyed’s childhood was marked by hardship: a father battling addiction, the burden of supporting his family from a young age, and the struggle to find purpose amidst chaos. Against all odds, and through moments of despair, grit, and unexpected inspiration, he rises from academic failure to become a respected scholar in molecular medicine.
In Search of Rain not only deals with Seyed’s gradual evolution as a member of so-called the “burnt generation” after the Islamic Republic of Iran, but also points out various cultural and socio-political aspects of his country and even lifestyle, traveling, and immigration.
From the dusty streets of Motel Qu to the labs of Pittsburgh, In Search of Rain is a story of resilience, transformation, and hope. The “rain” in the title symbolizes more than a change in location, it speaks to a yearning for opportunity, peace, and renewal. Seyed’s story speaks to anyone who has faced overwhelming adversity, dared to dream beyond their circumstances, or fought for a better future. His life is a testament to the human spirit’s ability to endure and rise.
Besides studying, I was interested in politics, but I was never a political person. Once upon time, I wanted to get into the parliament as a representative of the people of my city and serve my beloved people. But later I realized that representing the parliament is not compatible with my spirit and achieving dreams is not always achieved with effort. Sometimes you need to be like a group that you have no harmony with! I was disappointed with the conditions of my country and the fate of its people. Everything in the world of politics was mixed with hypocrisy and stank, and in this black night, I was looking for a thread and a needle to patch my torn socks. We couldn’t do anything except regretting and fruitless protests. It was as if we were standing in front of the mirror and cursing ourselves. The world of politics was too dirty for us to do anything about. Iran was in the hands of the Mullahs. All of them were deceiving people and betraying them. Some of them said that you deserve whatever trouble happens to you! You shouldn’t have made a revolution! It was the era of the Mullahs. The Supreme Mullah considered himself the vicegerent of God on earth and was not answerable to anyone. He considered himself the owner of the lives and property of the people. He tried to choose the officials of the country’s executive powers and government organizations from among the Mullahs so that they would not impeach him.
In those years, the officials were constantly changing especially after the election of a new president. With the change of each presidency, a wave of managerial changes was formed in all departments and organizations. All officials appointed their family members, friends and individuals with similar ideologies to the managerial positions. It was often seen that people who came to power took personal and political revenge on previous ones. New bosses and officials destroyed the previous ones or put them in prison so that they could promote themselves. Iran was suffering from a syndrome called “extremists’ syndrome,” and a lot of energy, time and money was spent on political disputes. The main question was whether changing officials was enough to improve the situation in the country or whether the structure and rules should be changed…
This excerpt is published here courtesy of the author and should not be reprinted without permission.
John 14:2 King James Version
2 In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you...
26 But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.
Folks, I closed out this article to takes my morning meds and eat a little yogurt... I had looked at a preview of this post and noticed a large space. As I turned the computer off, I told myself to remember to put something in there. The above scripture came to mind about mansions. God's message...and my thoughts continued...each of the countries in this world has one sort of a mansion or another as created by man. It was revealed that in each country or area there is a mansion that has the door open for each individual to enter... It is not based upon where you were born or what religion you came to learn from parents or others who attempt to sway you one way or another... When I read the passage I knew that I was to read the entire chapter. The second verse was the one that received attention immediately... What I understand from this message is that, no matter where you live... No matter what religion you have chosen or which has been chosen in your home area, each of us still has the possibility of something more... This version chose to use the Comforter and then follows up with Holy Ghost, For me, ghost is too archaic to feel comfortable with. As a word evaluator with reference to today's world, I choose to say Holy Spirit versus Ghost...which has become an entity of fiction in all forms... Whereas Spirit, to me, is something that has been joined with my body as a spirit could enter us in today's languages...
No matter what, however, I believe His Message to you today is that no matter your past, no matter what you believe right now, or even if you already believe the same as I have found to be true. There is always something more to be learned... God speaks to all Peoples. This is a personal decision, not available to be created or mandated by somebody other than you, personally.
Yes, I am saying that a personal relationship already exists... If you allow Him fully in...
In the poetry which was mentioned by Seyed, Rumi was one I had previously read, and so I found the exact words from this God-inspired poet who reveals so deeply just how an American Woman and an Iranian Author can come to recognize that a brother and sister of God have met, online, now in the same U.S. State
Folks, when an introverted American Woman and an introverted Iranian Man decide to share their Truth, their thoughts about how people on earth are being treated, contrary to their God's desires, then you may want to start thinking about your own thoughts and decisions about your life... Something is happening right now in the United States which has affected the entire world in a way never seen before. No, I don't think it is even close to the end of the world, or whatever crazy words that are coming from christian nationalists supporters, the republican party, or any other individuals who do not feel we are fighting for freedom/democracy more than ever before... People across the world are crying out in desperation. Now, this has been incited by a group of power-seeking rich people who care nothing about anything but their own desires. That includes people different from them in one or more ways... We all know it and can see it, as never before, at least for me...
When freedom allows people to lie, manipulate, cheat, and even murder in the name of the law, we must assume that we are in danger. I want you to consider reading this book because of one thing. We have seen the little children hunting in the rubble of what was once their homes, dazed, sometimes with blood on their bodies, or, sadly, already gone from the use of instruments of war that should never have been created.... Yet are now part of the entire human race, in which a majority of people want peace...
Even news agencies have chosen whether to support these authoritarian seekers... While others work to seek and find Truth of What is Really Happening...
Each of us has been pulled into something that none of us planned for... having to recognize that we, too, have the same need for basic life-giving care that often we cannot afford. While at the same time, there are riches unknown secured by those who know that their money can buy anybody that is willing to bow down and surrender personal freedom.
Even God does not ask this of His Creations!
Maybe talking about it will begin to make sense for future actions? More and more that is what is needed. We who were manipulated into a certain belief or religion, or even a political party, need to discover, as I and this author has, that there is much more available through the great I Am than from any other human who ever lived or is living now...
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Choose this Day Whom You will Follow...
God Blesses Each Person Who Hears and Responds... He is Waiting...
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