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I thought perhaps, just maybe,if perhaps I could perchancepropel myself away from earth,accelerate the rate Iβd surf, acrossthe waves of space in time, imagine pleasethis hope of mine, move faster, faster,faster still, until?Until.Until Iβm light, a weightless sprite, flungfar to space till to this place, I come in timein 40 years β still 39. A…
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Note: This piece has been shelved in my private stash of prose for quite a while. I sort of hate this piece because itβs very imprecise (even for me), lacks nuance, and reflects only a narrow slice of how I view the world – though that could be said of any monologue. I make no…
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I fly to Prince Albert with the sun on my shoulders,into darkness I go as the light chases me. The east was my home, yet still I press westward,How I long to return to the sun and the sea. Through the rugged prairies north of Saskatoon I drive to Prince Albert, gateway to the north. Thick…
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An impressive sight, I must admit,Manitobaβs museum for human rights.A twirling tower of cladding and glassReaching up and into the idealismof equity and justice for all, atwisting mound of metalmeant to be a cloud,proudly boasts into the skythe hypocrisy it hides.βCause if you tilt your head a bit andlook hard and, well, you canβt unseea…
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Yesterday marked 100 days since the murder of Jina “Mahsa” Amini. For one hundred days, from 9,500 km away, I’ve been following, sharing, posting, liking, and amplifying stories from Iran that managed to circumvent state-imposed internet restrictions. I know what I’m doing is inadequate. Toilet bowl activism, at best. Still, something compels me (maybe guilt)…
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This post was written by a first-generation refugee born in Sri Lanka to Iranian parents. I landed in Canada in 1983, just before my first birthday. I acknowledge the many biases inherent to my circumstance. What is written below is an honest account of my feelings on the ongoing protests in Iran from my, admittedly,…
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The last few posts got me into an introspective mood, so I just want to share a few thoughts before getting into my Early School years (age 6 to 9). During childhood, I probably experienced most music as enthralling noise. Regular exposure to certain songs would create familiarity, dictating (to some degree) future preferences. I…
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I went about this all wrong. After publishing the last post, I noticed that I had not set any clear parameters to distinguish between childhood and subsequent developmental periods. I wasnβt thinking about the music in terms of specific ages, just that I listened to Raffi when I was a βchildβ or that MJ was…
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According to RPM magazine, in 1983, when my family first stepped foot on Canadian soil, the best performing singles topping radio charts included four songs by Michael Jackson: βBillie Jeanβ, βBeat Itβ, βWanna be Startinβ Somethinβ,β and βSay Say Say,β which he performed with Beatles legend, Paul McCartney. I was eight months old that year,…
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βI canβt explain it,β he said as he let his head sink deeper into his pillow, βI just feel sad.β I paused for a moment, resisting the temptation to lead, and waited for him to find his voice. βI tried to think about it and to find a reason, but there is no reason. I…
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A Working Draft by E. E. Talisman 