دُرِ سُفته: چهل و چهار – صحبتِ روشن رایی

از خدا می طلبم صحبتِ روشن رایی

حافظ-

slitbar

this returning expatriate friend handed me a gift this afternoon he picked up on his trip home. a seemingly unusual gift but one that i particularly appreciate because it is not the generic fountain-pen type gift that is thoughtless and perfunctory.

it is a large molybdenum/vanadium steel alloy kitchen knife called ’slitbar’ -sharp as a gillette razor, and a beauty to behold.

the lesser known fact (which i had discussed with this friend) is that i love cooking when i can get around to it, and do it with wasteful abandon and investment of time and care. and nothing is handier in the kitchen than a good, wholesome, heavy, large, and sharp knife.

state of scholarship

there is afghanistan the cultural-anthropological curiosity.

and then there is afghanistan the country.
(which is were so many of us lead real lives.)

and there have been many occasions when i have wished to point out this seemingly simple, self-evident truth to many a self-anointed pontificators on afghanistan.

how we see things

we don’t see things as they are,
we see them as we are.

-anaïs nin

crawling on the ceiling of my mind

i paraphrased that from the mariner’s revenge song by the decembrists, the fantastic, wholesome, agonizing, anguished 8.4 minute long ballad that leaves me satisfied and sad everytime i hear it.

*

i am back in kabul.
and what happens when i get back to kabul?
that’s right -i am swept away with the deluge of work, except that this time the onrush is more severe given that i have been a way for the longest period ever -3 weeks.

*

but on the plus side of it all, i am alive, and safe, and seemingly have survived the elections -survival in all senses. maybe. maybe in one or two senses of it. don’t know yet.

but i have decided to write a will. i read it somewhere about an afghan american couple that they packed up and left for afghanistan and took their favorite music collection along, and of course wrote their will. and for a minute i thought right, that’s something to do.

*
also, lastly, the blog has broken the 50,000 visit mark. i usually do not obsess about visitor numbers -especially on this blog, but that’s a pretty good milestone for any blog. even the least cared for ones. (actually as of this moment it’s at 50,998 visitors). so thanks to all of ya’ll for coming along for the ride.

*

kabul is calm and sunny today, with some gentle clouds gliding lazily about the sky. we need the rain -the dust and the drought is not helping things what with the flu officially in country now.

Visiting the Alma Mater

Ellis Hall, Juniata College, originally uploaded by From Afghanistan With Loveّ.

to juniata, college dear
in praise we raise our song
the place of loyal hearts and cheer
which we have loved so long
we love the pathways to and fro
the classrooms and the halls
we’ll ne’er foget tho far we go
the days within her walls.

-juniata college alma mater, 1898

*

i am visiting my college after i graduated four years ago. beautiful place nestled in a beautiful countryside in pennsylvania. so much happened here. i truly lived here, loved here, laughed and cried, succeeded and failed, and on occasion got bored too.

so many memories that are unique to having spent four undergraduate years at a small, relatively isolated liberal arts school. four incredible, unforgettable, formative years.

this afternoon as i drove into the campus again, an overwhelming mix of all that came rushing to me again.

i love this place and the people here. always a part of my life.

black coffee

i have re-discovered the infinite joys of this licit narcotic.
good coffee can be eye-watering-ly delicious.

a week of nescafe in kabul and i shall be weaned off it once again.

for those who don’t know nescafe, it is a watery liquid that tastes of a mixture of earth and compost with a suspect aftertaste and allegedly passes for coffee, though it is difficult to verify the exact contents (because that is a trade secret as well as a public health secret.)

warmer climes

florida’s weather is a sharp contrast to the week that i was in dc. the air is warm and thick and any breeze does wonders.

the roadsides here sport palm trees. i find this a bit disconcerting. in my mind, the accepted habitat of this species is far from the us.

the wailing willows, on the other hand, are wonderful. the only other time i have seen them was again in the us a few years ago when i was visiting savannah ga. wonderful creatures that seem more animate and full of character than any other plant species i have seen.

they also have waffle houses here at every stop -nice, southern cuisine rendered unto promiscous, quick food. wondrous concoctions of cheese and potatoes, perfect for any day’s carbicide.

it might have to do with the kind of place i was holed up in paris, but the size of hotel rooms shere in the us has been a welcome change. in paris i was in a room practically smaller than my college dorm room, and equally spartan. another experience in bonn a year or so ago was similarly confined.

as i wrote in an email this afternoon, it is only through distance and time that the wonderful gift and blessing that is family becomes apparent to me. this is tragic and thankless of me. it was only when i got a break this afternoon to pick something my little brother had asked me that i realized how much i missed everyone. blessing or curse of being busy?

the sunsets are more affecting than anywhere else. the sun sinks into the horizon always with a tint and ambiance and solemnity that fills your heart. something about seeing a sunset in florida will always be with me.

marmalade skies

picture yourself
in a boat
on a river
with tangerine tries
and marmalade skies.

-the beatles, lucy in the sky with diamonds, 1967.

and the waiting game continues

sideline spectators to a contact sport playing out primarily between foreign players. that’s the station of the ordinary people of afghanistan who are watching the elections saga play out before their eyes without much comprehending it. boy, must they feel insulted. who the heck are these people anyways and how do they presume to speak for the people who went, voted, and in dignity returned to wait for the results. and then of course an american and a norwegian made it into a personal power play and everyone variously took sides, and then the whole thing hit the fan. what disgrace.