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Meh being so far away from my gf in Bangalore was sad enough, and he won't let me go clubbing tonight, she was on the phone for hours... so anyways i actually had to spend valentine's day with these misrible bunch in the office...
Tip, don't travel to India, if you do, only goto Mumbai or Goa only, stay well away from the rest. Coming here, you'll realise why all indians in europe and america are so shy!
anyways i've now booked myself a trip to mysore and goa, will let you know if it's any better there..Last edited by csite; 02-14-2009, 03:25 PM.Leave a comment:
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when in this day and age a 13 year old boy has a child, i think being 7 isn't too bad!Originally posted by DokhtarIrooni View Post
baba abadani chera behesh rastesho nemigi? he's not interested in you hun, he just wants to get to know your bf bit more, which is why he's antagonising you. I think the technical term for it is pessar baaz
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guys im not kidding, stop writing this crap its not funny. you're acting like 7 year oldsLeave a comment:
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luckily im in bangalore, not expected to buy a gift + i save too!!! ..... my glorious sperm..
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I hate this dayyyyyy cuz u gotta give a gift
but I love it to cuz u get a gift
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That is the greatest day in the world...I was born in that day..lolLeave a comment:
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Manijeh broke down crying, and told Rostam how at nights, she slept by the rock, slipping a hand under its cruel weight so the tips of her fingers could caress Bijan. How she fought his despair by painting in words the color of the sunset, and the racing of the moon through the ragged clouds. How, as she begged for food to keep him alive, she also collected sights and sounds, and sensations. A flower here, a song there, a quarrel in the marketplace, a comic face. So that at nights when Bijan threw his body against the pit in a cursing rage, calling out Gorgin’s name and vowing bitter revenge, Manijeh could calm him with the sweetness of the world.
She told Rostam how never, even during seizures of wrath, did Bijan blame her for what she had done. Rather he would imagine he was free, and dream up pretend lives with her. Every night they grew old together in a different way.
When Rostam heard all this, he praised the lovers’ dedication. Then, at night, Rostam and Manijeh rode out to the rock. As they neared their destination, Rostam felt a familiar apprehension. Twice he had tangled with Akvan the deev and had felt the spirit of Akvan’s master, the Evil Mind, Ahriman. The sensation of evil present told Rostam that Akvan’s rock was bracing for the battle.
When Rostam and Manijeh arrived, Bijan was still celebrating with a voice full of hope. Rostam reassured the young man and passed on the greetings of Geev, the emperor, and all the rest of the court. Then he told Bijan of his visit with Gorgin. On the mere mention of Gorgin’s name, Bijan suddenly went into a rage, pummeled the walls of the pit, roaring crude oaths of vengeance. Rostam said, “Bijan, Gorgin regrets what he has done. The burden of guilt on his conscience is heavier than this rock.”
Bijan laughed bitterly and said, “Don’t intervene for that traitor, Rostam. If only the power of my anger were in my arms, I could lift this rock by myself. Now free me as your king has commanded you.”
Then Rostam said, “I can’t Bijan. The evil in this rock dilutes my strength with doubt. I must take time to ponder.”
All day, the Supreme Champion sat meditating on his dilemma. His strength, a gift from Hormoz, was a sacred trust, and wouldn’t let itself be used to serve the Evil Mind . If he let Bijan out, Gorgin’s blood would be shed. But the Evil Mind would be served just as well if Bijan died in this tomb. When the board is all black and white, Hormoz is the grand master of the game. It’s when the squares merge into a murky gray that the Evil Mind cries, “checkmate.”
At night Rostam sat helplessly by the fire. Manijeh had torn off a piece of roast from the spit and was feeding Bijan. Her love defied the brutal impenetrability of the rock. What strength, Rostam thought, and recognized this as a sign from Hormoz.
He got up and spoke to Bijan, “If I am to free you, we will need to combine our strengths.”
Bijan said, “I still have much left in me. Tell me what I must do?”
“This will take a lot of courage.”
“I am ready for any challenge, Rostam. As long as it gets me out of here.”
“This will be a far greater challenge that you have faced in your young life,” Rostam said.
“Just tell me what I must do?’
“You must forgive Gorgin.”
There was silence.
Then Manijeh knelt down and through the crack Bijan saw the torment and sorrow in her sunburnt face. She was in pain and love would not let that stand.
“What I have suffered to this day,” Bijan said, “has guided me to this place in my heart. And now that I have arrived, I am thankful to Gorgin.”
Suddenly Rostam felt the power of Hormoz surge through his body. With a cry he raised his fists, each heavier that an anvil, and brought them crashing down upon the rock. The blow started a shock wave that rippled across the plain bouncing boulders in its path. Having stunned the rock thus, Rostam lifted its mighty mass way over his head, and tossed it up into the night sky, where it thundered and glowed all the way back to China.
Rostam then raised Bijan from the pit and the three sped to Iran on the swift back of Rostam’s horse. On their arrival Geev, with tears of joy running down his eyes, rocked his son in his embrace. Then Gorgin came forward and he and Bijan apologized to each other, putting the past behind them. During the banquet in their honor, Emperor KeiKhosro was chatting with the magnificent Manijeh. Seeing how the Evil Mind had tried to use her love to inflict sorrow on the world, he marveled at the way this pampered Princess had held off disaster until help arrived. Then the King of Kings commanded the crowd to silence, declared Manijeh to be his own daughter, and ordered Bijan to marry her.
Love and forgiveness brought a happy ending to the story of Bijan and Manijeh. And perhaps it was this story that led Sultan Mahmood to forgive Ferdowsi’s insolence, and send the old poet the gold along with an apology. But the Sultan’s repentance came too late for a happy ending. As the bags of gold entered through the Eastern gate on the backs of camels, Ferdowsi’s coffin was being carried out of the Western gate on its way to the cemetery.
We really needn’t feel bad, for Ferdowsi, though. If you visit his tomb in Khorasan you will see that he is buried on his own property, and not in a cemetery as the anecdote would have us believe This suggests that he came from a family of wealthy landowners and didn’t need the Sultan’s money to finish his book. In fact some people say Ferdowsi started the Shahnameh 19 years before Sultan Mahmood even came to power, and Ferdowsi’s famous diatribe against the Sultan is likely a forgery. The confrontation between Sultan Mahmood and Ferdowsi is a patriotic myth, which serves to encourage Iranians to define themselves more by their ancient culture, and less by Islam. Otherwise the poet and the sultan may never have even met.
And now that we have caught myth in the act of bringing together two strangers out of history, we wonder whether the real Bijan and Manijeh ever met. All we know for sure is that some courageous act of love and forgiveness thousands of years ago brought them together into the same story today, so that they could be remembered together, happily ever after.Leave a comment:
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“You have heard of me?” Bijan said.
“Heard of you? All of Armenia is talking about how you rid them of the vicious boars. There is no one in Iran, or Tooran that has not heard your praise.”
“Really?” Something didn’t seem quite right, but the clever Garsivaz knew that in this moment of high crisis, the young man would be prone to denial.
“Come,” said Garsivaz. “Let me intervene for you with my brother. I’ll counsel him not to let this embarrassing affair become public. We’ll sweep it under the rug somehow and arrange a marriage.”
Hearing happy words like that, Bijan let his guard down. The moment he did, Garsivaz’s men jumped him and threw him in chains.
After they beat and tortured Bijan, they dragged him to Afrasiab, and threw him on his knees in front of king.
“So,” said Afrasiab. “That cowardly Emperor KeiKhosrow has sent an assassin after me. Has he now stooped to the enchanting of women?” Apparently Afrasiab thought of Bijan as a James Bond type character who had used his sexual charms to get into the palace grounds.
But Bijan’s only concern at this point was how to shift the blame away from Manijeh and direct it towards himself, because by now he was madly in love with her. Manijeh had acted rashly, of course, but then he had been careless of her feelings. So he said to Afrasiab, “Emperor KeiKhosrow knows nothing of my presence here, and your daughter is innocent. On my boar hunt in Armania I captured a demon and made him fly me past Manijeh’s guards into her chambers. There the demon put a spell on her, to keep her from revealing my presence.” Bijan’s first truly noble act was telling a lie, which for an Iranian warrior is the most ignoble thing you can do. Just one of the paradoxes of love.
Afrasiab turned to Garsivaz, “I have heard of such demons. Could this be true?” It was Afrasiab’s turn for denial, but this time the liar Garsivaz was staunchly on the side of truth.
“There are such demons, my Lord,” he said “but from the level of partying that was going on in the harem I would rule out that possibility.”
“Then prepare the gallows,” Afrasiab ordered.
“Yes, my Lord,” said Garsivaz holding his dagger against his heart as a gesture of obedience, “Gallows for two.”
“Gallows for one,” Afrasiab quickly clarifed. And he came up with this excuse to save his daughter: “Manijeh will live so she can watch him die. Strip of her royal garments and throw her out to fend for herself.”
“Sire,” said Garsivaz. “ If you show mercy, your vassals will dare plot against you.”
“Is that a threat Garsivaz?” Afrasiab roared.
“No sire,” Garsivaz squeaked and slithered out of the room.
As the gallows were being prepared, General Piran, high commander of the Tooranian army, was riding by on his way to a meeting with the king. When he saw the gallows, he asked the passersby who was being hanged. When he found out it was Bijan, son of Geev, General Piran was gravely concerned. Unlike the twisted Garsivaz, General Piran was a man of peace. Throughout the Shahnameh , Piran takes every opportunity to rescue what he can from the disasters of war. It’s noteworthy that the most spiritually enlightened character in the whole of Shahnameh belongs to the enemy camp.
The general rode to the palace, and persuaded Afrasiab to let his anger cool before he made any irreversible decisions. The death of Bijan would surely unleash a new and expensive war against Iran. Perhaps Emperor KeiKhosro would trade an advantage for Bijan’s release. After much persuasion, Afrasiab ordered Garsivaz to tear down the gallows and imprison Bijan instead.
Garsivaz followed the King’s orders to the letter and imprisoned Bijan, but he did this in his own perverse way. There was a big rock that Akvan the deev had tossed to into China from the bottom of the sea. This magical rock was so heavy that no prisoner trapped underneath it could ever hope for rescue. So, for special occasions, Garsivaz had had the rock chained to a hundred elephants and pulled all the way to Tooran from China. As Manijeh watched, a pit was dug, and the hapless Bijan was thrown into it. Then a hundred elephants harnessed to chains dragged the rock over the pit, burying Bijan alive. Gloating from the top of the rock, Garsivaz then gave Bijan the devastating revelation that it was his own companion in arms, Gorgin, that had plotted this fate.
Meanwhile in Iran, Gorgin returned to the Emperor’s palace without Bijan. He bowed and placed the head of the leader of the wild boar in front of the throne. Geev, standing beside Emperor KeiKhosro asked, “Where’s my son, Gorgin?”
“Sorry, Geev,” said Gorgin. “We defeated the boar army, and we were on our way back, when Bijan spotted a wild *** and went and after it. I saw right away that it was luring Bijan into following it, and I told him this may be a deev who has transformed itself into an animal. But Bijan didn’t listen, and followed it into the forest. I searched for days, but I fear, Geev, that your son has been taken by the deev.
Geev fell to his knees and sobbed in grief.
Emperor KeiKhosro was also stricken with sorrow, but he kept his wits. “Gorgin,” he said. “It must have been a hard fight against the boar.”
“Yes my Lord, it was a savage fight. The boars knocked me off my horse and I fought them with daggers. I slew the boar leader myself.”
“Then how is it, Gorgin, that there is not even a scratch on your armor?”
A few “elementary my dear Watson”s later and Gorgin confessed the truth. He was shackled and thrown in the dungeon.
Then Emperor KeiKhosro told Geev. Don’t worry old friend. I will look into my magic cup to find your son.
This was the cup that the god Hormoz had gifted to the Emperor. Once a year on the first day of spring, its royal owner could look into the cup and see everything in this world, however hidden. Emperor KeiKhosro had been using it to find out who was plotting against him. Where was the concentration of enemy troops? A kind of magic CIA. But this year the king was using the cup to correct a mistake. He should have anticipated Gorgin and Bijan’s resentment of each other. Elementary, really.
Staring into the divine cup, KeiKhosro saw a beggar woman shoving scraps of food under a big rock. Then he saw Bijan trapped in a pit underneath.
The king emerged from the sacred chamber and immediately summoned his supreme champion Rostam. Rostam who had twice battled Akvan the Deev and lived, asked KeiKhosro to give him a treasure of gold, silk and spices so that he could enter Tooran posing as a merchant. Then, after paying a visit to Gorgin in the king’s dungeons, he set out for Tooran.
Arriving in the capital city of Tooran, Rostam set up shop as trader and began keeping an ear out for Bijan’s whereabouts. One day, as he was having a luncheon of roast chickens, a beggar woman crept in and hoarsely whispered, “Is it true you are from Iran sir?”
“Yes,” said Rostam.
“Then I have an urgent message for you to deliver to your emperor when you return” she said. “Tell Emperor KeiKhosro that Bijan, son of Geev is still alive and waiting to be rescued?”
Now Rostam was a careful spy, so he said, “Look, woman I’m not here to cause trouble. Find someone else to deliver your message.”
But the beggar woman lashed out at Rostam, “Then don’t pretend you are Bijan’s countryman, you coward.”
The flash of anger in her eyes brought Rostam to attention. Who was this beggar whose voice compelled obedience? Then he bothered to take a closer look. Starvation and exposure to the harsh elements made her look gaunt. But beyond a cursory glance, she was stunningly beautiful.
Rostam said. “Look, the most I can do is offer Bijan my hospitality. Here, take this roast chicken to him with my compliments. And as he handed her the chicken, Rostam secretly slipped his signature ring into its belly.
The next day, the woman came back, this time radiant with hope. “Oh Supreme Champion Rostam, when Bijan saw your ring he danced with joy like a madman. And now that I know who you are, let me tell you that I am Princess Manijeh the disowned daughter of king Afrasiab.Leave a comment:
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