A house which remains empty for a while often becomes a haunted place for the ghosts to live. Perhaps that has happened to me too, but the worst thing to imagine is am I becoming habitual of living with these ghosts ? these ghosts, these intangible invisible beings living in the deep corridors of my mind, jumping infront of me all of a sudden, from this smell door or that feeling window, or popping out of the drawer or even inside the fridge whenever i move from one freezing thought to another….. reminding me of their silent presence in most creative ways possible.Sometimes they show up in large numbers, dancing…

Yesterday 21st december I celebrated the Yalda night with my newly found persian friend and his mother in Dar-es-Salaam. Shab-e-Yalda is the longest night in the year , and for some reason i enjoyed the persian optimism, of the longest night being over and now the days will start growing, the morning will be coming earlier second by second, day by day, everyday…………We started with the dry fruits fresh from persia, followed by water melon and pomegranates, with the Hafiz recitation of peotry singing at the back. And then our friend played with his first love Santoor, filling the room with the persian musical notes . These persian people, they…

Right in the middle of a lovely hilly city of Kigali in a land locked African country, lies the white building, built to remember the killing of millions. It was my second trip to this country which is also called a country of thousand hills, and i always felt good about the tranquility of the place, but after visiting this white building i was silent and this silence was not a satisfying one. It was the silence asking all of us on to what level of madness we humans can go. The building starts with the pictures and history about the divisions of hutu and tutsi tribe by the Belgians;…

Playing black jack is like passing a complete life in a fast forward…. each card presenting us with options… each hand representing chances and choices… each deal showing how the people around us are reacting to decisions of there lives, enjoying, celebrating the fruits of mere luck or being concerned of loosing what is already there…. and the dealer like a god in real life, in his own humble way, keeps on inciting people to play though having a conviction of wining in the end all what is laid on the table. Is it not so similar to what life is all about, just a bit more slower in passing…

I want to write something so desperately today….. But the words are running far away from me, and like an old lion I am running aimlessly for them… I tried getting hold of this word desire but to no use… she was so close for a while and so far suddenly now….i looked for the word life and no success either….she is keeping a distance like the two rail tracks, always a step ahead…… a last try I did catching happiness but like an inexperienced jockey, the happiness horse easily got rid of me, wounding me seriously….. I finally am giving up the idea of hope now…. Sitting for a…

I laughed after a very long time, and laughed like hell.. there is this laugh which is unstoppable, you try your best but you simply can’t and you just laugh ,and that laugh happened to me..Even Ertyaas was looking at me with a surprising smiling look. Sitting at the main center square of Amsterdam’s red light area, where the smell of hash is making all of us high, we discussed on the same question of what to answer if our child asks the reason of creating her…. and she insisted on me being afraid of the responsibility and i told her i want to adopt a child instead of having…

It is not all laughter, all the time.Who can laugh when the roof leaksAnd the walls give way to floods?Laughter is the seasoning of salt, andSalt is not food, but a seasoning for food.They have their sorrows, these men of the landPoverty stalks them by the hourAnd the Kente is a flesh in their lives: (Kente is a ghanian traditional cloth)Handed down through the rungs of the yearsFrom uncle to nephew through mother’s streamTimes disintegrating fingers, have by stealth,Loosened the threadsWhere the weaver of bonfire had joined the stripsThe dyes in the colors, red, blue , gold and greenSapped by the devilry of age,Have paled to where they can fade…

” I think we modern people have forgotten the taste of real happiness” i said to ertyass, and she frowned at me as if not understanding what i really meant. I was sitting with a kind girl who invited me on a local Ghanaian music concert, the ambiance was quite bohemian, with people who were still trying to live the hippie dream and the university students who were still forming their dreams……. the musicians started playing instruments i never seen in my life, instruments you may laugh at seeing them but all having such raw but mellow and pure sounds that you become entranced as if some old voodoo spell…

For the past few days now I am listening to some europian music, I think it is french and italian and somehow enjoying it a lot although not understanding a word of it…..Made me think today of this music I am listening to… these words possibly having totally different meanings tied to it, possibly talking about some tangible things and I thinking them otherwise, taking them for some ode of old love…….like this song “La Mer” which I now know is about the sea…though somehow it is tied to old love hanging always around us like the sea……. Made me think of do we all create our own realities to…

I found my self on a transit lounge again, in a different land and in a different time. This time being in AddisAbaba(Ethiopia) and with a different person, a young man to pass the next 5 hours.Transit lounges sometimes become so symbolical and majestic to me, as if depicting the whole world in a small place. Allot of people from distant worlds and different times, trying to make their way from one gate to another, all these people acting like ships, floating in the sea of time, carrying loads of memories and experiences and a desire to keep the ship moving. The standing aero planes becoming the vessels of “desires”,…

Freedom…. One of the things I am enjoying in africa is getting a lot of time to read and think which keeps me busy most of the time. I recently finished two very long and great books. “The road to freedom” by Nelson Mendela and “Shantaram” by Gregory Roberts. Both were autobiographies, the first one about a freedom fighter fighting for his countrymens’ freedom from his own countrymen, the second about a freedom fighter fighting for his own freedom from his own countrymen…….. Nelson spending his 27 years in prison in the persuit of freedom for his people and Gregory breaking the prison and living for years on run for…