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Jul
14
Yasmin Rahmani
7 comments

A letter to my grandfather

Baba-Fazlollah-joon, More than anything, I wanted your recognition. I wanted to catch the twinkle of pride in your eyes (like we used to catch fireflies, remember?). You always had such high expectations. Mom never liked it, but I did.  Your limitless ambition flows in my blood, flooding dreams of daring scope that never run dry. I was busy growing up waiting for the day to make you proud. But you started fading...
Mar
21
Yasmin Rahmani
2 comments

Norooz, Spanish Style

I miss Iran.  My memories are dated some 15-odd years, but they always manage to creep up on me.   Each has its own hidden trigger, buried deep within the dusty archives of my mind.  I never know when or what will set it off. Burning kerosene lamps.  Mona Lisa’s smile.  The black of asphalt.  Salty, burnt corn.  Water running in dirty streams. Meaningless to you, but these are the momentary sparks. ...
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