On Marjan Kamali's book "The stationary shop of Tehran ...

The last thing I had expected was to be so emotionally "touched" as I was reading Marjan Kamali's "The stationary shop of Tehran". I am known to  enjoy reading love stories but there was something quite different about this enduring and thwarted love and loss novel though, which inevitably shook me. 

 

 

Being quite familiar with the history of Iran, Rumi's poetry, Iranians' attitude towards life, as well as Iranian cuisine, all of which play an important role throughout the whole story, made it all too intimate for me to be able to distance myself and as the story progressed I felt such a strong bond with some of the many interesting characters that populated it that when fate struck I couldn't help feeling the pain of those directly and indirectly affected by it. Marjan Kamali structured the novel in such a way that as a reader I craved to turn the page and see what was going to happen next.

 

"Set in a country poised for democracy but destroyed by political upheaval, Marjan Kamali's beautiful novel explores issues that have never been more timely, of immigration and cultural assimilation, of the quirks of fate." - Booktopia







 

The latest book I have read ...

Back in 2014 I had read two books by Iranian author Kader Abdolah, both of which I had been impressed by. It wasn't until recently that his name surfaced again as I came across "The King". Apart from the themes of his previous books, it was also his writting style I was touched by.


There's something of a magic-like subtlety similar to the 1001 nights narrator's that inevitably draws you in until you realise you've been reading for endless hours almost non-stop and were it not for the tiredness you'd like to continue doing so.

 

Said to be closely based on the life of Naser al-Din Shah Qajar, who ruled Persia from 1848 to 1896 the King though fictional is  like a sequence of life events insterspersed by intrigues, moments of reflection and even power struggles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"A strong and colourful story illuminating the complex forces that have shaped contemporary Iran." - Metro

 

 

 

 

 

"The King is utterly fabulous in both senses of the word: a sly, witty, knowing fable, full of charm and humour. Deceptively simple in its storytelling, it reads like one of Angela Carter's fairy tales transposed into the nineteenth century Qajar Persian court. Kader Abdolah is a masterful and completely addictive storyteller." - William Dalrymple

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Making children happy ...

Making children happy, whether it is temporarily or not does not seem to be too difficult and irrespective of which continent they are from their reactions don't seem to be too different either.

 

 

Some children are more exhuberant than others in their exteriorization of joy but even when shyness surfaces one can always see the way they feel inside.

 

 

I must have approached hundreds of children during my trips and by looking at some of the photos I took or someone else did in those encounters, I do remember details that I felt I might not have retained.

 

 

Organizing group birthday parties for African children who had no idea what a birthday was, was a challenging adventure, particularly when it came to selecting what they were to eat, once most of them had never tasted sweet things but it has given me one of the most satisfying feelings ever.

 

Atitlan Lake, Guatemala

Each child I came across during these trips was unique in his or her own way but some of them especially touched me, like the Northern India siblings who were out working in a field and whom I felt I had to approach cautiously. They didn't know what a lollipop was, it was soon made clear but looking at their bright shining eyes as they licked them almost made me cry.

Peruvian children

Uzbekistan

Armenia

Sri Lanka

Southern India

Myanmar

Vietnam

Panama

I loved all my Iranian little friends, particularly the two boys who followed me everywhere up in the mountain, as if I was not supposed to wander about on my own. Our silent conversations were powerful and I still miss them to this day,

together with the proud look of the little Azeri boy I met near Se-o Se Pol who sat close to me and started talking as if I could understand what he was saying and refused to accept that I didn't even when I told him " Farsi balad nistam" (meaning I do not speak Farsi) ...

Isfahan