Walking Among The Dead

It was a Saturday morning and I was having breakfast, muffin and cold coffee, at a franchised coffee shop. I sat there reading a newspaper and saw out through the glass wall, a local cemetery. I always felt strange about cemeteries. They are spooky at once, all the dead people buried there for ages among other dead people. But somehow they had an allure for me with the all the grand tombstones, located in the serenity of the woods. They always felt out of the world, and out of the world the buried people are, but the area itself is kind of isolated from the hustle and bustle of the urban world, kind of serene.

I decided to take a drive through, may be take a stroll as I had some time to kill. At the entrance read "All seasonal decorations need to be removed by March 31st". They might as well make it July 4th. I will tell you why later. The speed limit was set to 10mph which is understandable. There were few cars here and there and handful of people walking or jogging there while I was driving slowly. It was a nice day and calm. I bought down the windows of my car and could hear the birds chirping and cool breeze. It’s been a while since I took some time off with nature though I live in a region very close to several beautiful valleys and parks.

After a few minutes of driving I decided to take a walk. I parked my car to the side of the driveway and started walking in the woods. Since it was a cemetery, the ground was lined with tombstones with the name, date/year of Birth and Death of the person buried underneath. It felt kind of strange and creepy, but as time passed I felt some strange peace take over me. It was calm, cool breezy day. My thoughts quickly wandered to the people I had personally lost during my lifetime. I remembered my maternal grandfather who was grace personified. He was a farmer and strongly believed in hard work. Then there was my paternal grand mother who had a personal presence like no one I have known. I can still remember the look in her eye that had shades of strength and sorrow from her life experiences. She had lost her one eye when she was young in an accident while painting her house in the village when my dad was in school. My grand mom died on Indian Independence Day(Aug 15th) when I was a kid, whereas my grand father died about 5 years ago from old age. They both had a huge impact in my life. There were other relatives and friends that passed away, whose memories were both good and sad at the same time. Some of them struggled in their last days like my father-in-law who died of complications from CKD. I regret not being able to spend more time with him.

I continued my walk and tried to lose my thoughts by observing the various kinds of burial descriptions and decorations. I began to observe what people had placed on the burial grounds of their loved ones. It was clear that there was a social hierarchy among the dead as well. The richer among the dead, I think, had bigger almost cathedral like structures. While most were regular folks with regular stones. There was one shaped like a pyramid, probably representing free masonry. May be the dead guy was a mason. There were some gothic roman styled structures. Some even had gates in the front with dome shaped roof like a pagan temple. I am sure the dead cared less about social structure and hierarchy. It is the alive, loved ones of the dead that wanted to show their social status by throwing in money. It could even be an innocent gesture of love by constructing a unique structure and uniqueness can sometimes be shown by making the home bigger. Either way, every burial had a story to tell about the dead person and about the people related to the dead person.

The other observation I had was the decorations on the ground. If the dead person was really young, they had toys like Angels and Easter bunnies on the ground, while some older person's had weird stuff like golf balls. Some had flowers mostly plastic, but some had natural flowers and flower pots placed on the ground. The most popular adornment was surprisingly the American flag. Nationalism and patriotism did not escape the dead. The sign at the entrance could as well be read July4th or removed entirely as there can be no end to a season for patriotism. Some stones had the picture of the dead person's face on the stone. The oldest person I saw was born in 1811.

While I was making these silly observations, I got a call from my wife and I decided to head back to my car to go home. While I was going back, I saw an old white woman adjust some flags and decorations on the burial grounds of someone she probably was related to. The dead could have been a soldier. She gave me a distrustful stare. I smiled and said an audible “Hello"! She continued staring at me without a reply. I did not want to bother her anymore and continued walking towards my car.

My car was parked about half a mile away from where I was and the road I was walking was narrow with tall trees on the side with grass lawn. A few yards from where I was on the road, I had to take a right to go to my car and I saw the old lady, I saw earlier, driving a white van taking a left towards me. She was still staring at me and I came out of my philosophical self to being myself - regular pragmatic cynic. I can see why she had a distrustful look. There she was the lightest white old woman taking care of the ground under which her loved one was laid and here I was the darkest brown guy who could not have anyone buried there related to me to the sixth degree. I quickly took two steps to the right onto the grass and slipped behind a tree to let her pass by me. I did not want to be buried there from an accident caused by an angry old woman. I wanted to live another day. I saw her pass by me, with her continued mistrustful stare that truly caused me discomfort. I continued my walk to my car and I was greeted by another old lady who was jogging there. I regained my composure, went to my car and drove home slowly to have lunch with my wife.

Golha in Phila; Full Court Press for Public Libraries

On March 17th, 2010, I attended the Closing Event celebrating the One Book, One Philadelphia project conducted at the Free Library of Philadelphia. Per the handout given at the event 'One Book, One Philadelphia is a joint project of the Mayor's Office and the Free Library of Philadelphia. The mission of the program is to promote reading, literacy, library usage, and community building thoughout greater Philadelphia.'

The closing event was celebrated by the recreation of a Persian radio programme called Golha. Golha was introduced in 1956 by the Iranian government owned radio and ran through 1979 before being shut down by the Iranian Islamic Revolution in 1979. Being lazy, I reproduce what the closing event handout says about Golha -'Each week, the foremost Iranian musicians, vocalists, literary critics, poets, and radio announcerswere invited to perform a selection of the best modern and classical music and poems.'

The recreation of Golha at Philadelhia was conducted by Jeri Lynne Johnson, Music Director of Black Pearl Chamber Orachestra. The event included recitation of poems by Ursula Rucker, Homa Tavangar and Jahan Tavangar. I am not a big fan of poetry, often times I dont understand them. But one poem by a legendary Persian Poet Rumi impressed me. You can find the transalted version of a Poem by Rumi here . This Poem titled 'Not Ever Sea Has Pearls' is translated by Jahan Tavangar. I found a shorter version of the same peom online and here it is.

My heart, sit only with those who know and understand you.
Sit only under a tree that is full of blossoms.
In the bazaar of herbs and potions don't wander aimlessly
find the shop with a potion that is sweet
If you don't have a measure people will rob you in no time.
You will take counterfeit coins thinking they are real.
Don't fill your bowl with food from every boiling pot you see.
Not every joke is humorous, so don't search for meaning where there isn't one.
Not every eye can see, not every sea is full of pearls.
My hart, sing the song of longing like nightingale.
The sound of your voice casts a spell on every stone, on every thorn.
First, lay down your head then one by one let go of all distractions.
Embrace the light and let it guide you beyond the winds of desire.
There you will find a spring and nourished by its see waters
like a tree you will bear fruit forever.

--from the website http://www.rumi.org.uk/divan.htm
Rumi: The Hidden Music
by Maryam Mafi & Azima Melita Kolin

The program also had a intrumental music recitation by Cello artist Udi Bar-David, Santur artist Kazem Davoudian and Negin Moshtagh on Daf. I was familiar with the know what Santur is from watching famous Shuv Kumar Sharma as a kid. Daf is Dapli in Hindi. I enjoyed the classical music as I was somewhat familiar that was played live at the event. As they say, music and art are beyond boundaries and there is something about live music - It is as if classical music comes to life when heard live.

The recreated Golha at the Free Library of Philadelphia is one of the several such events conducted by the public libraries across the country. The public libraries serve several important roles in the society, not just places to get free books on loan and restooms for the homeless. They are a wealth of knowledge, great places to find information for research. But those are expected roles on the outset. Libraries also play other key roles, that of community gathering, policy dissemination by the local, state and federal government, cultural exchange, author events, book reading, writing and art workshops for the kids and adults, free access to internet, resume critique and job search workshops, free advise to small business people and several more. Most of these services are provided for free of cost to all. In the absense of the public libraries, the underprivileged have to pay up which they cannot afford.

In the last couple of years, the city of Philadelphia as part of its budget deficit trimming efforts have begun plans to sadly shutdown some public libraries in the Philadelphia region. This seems not just a Philadelphia event, rather a state wide and possibly nation wide course of action to trim budgets. It makes me cringe when any city/town targets the libraries whenever there is a discussion of fat trimming. Libraries as a fat of the city budget is a very wrong notion. In an increasing divisive society where the difference between the rich and poor is growing, libraries are one of the prime resources for the poor and underprivileged to know what is happening in the society, what policies are available to them to improve their lives and ofcourse free books for knowledge and entertainment.

Research has shown that the education gap between the rich and poor kids can be explained by the number of books(thereby greater reading oppurtunities) and words(vocabulary) the kids are exposed to in their environments(home, school, friends etc). Libraries help in supplementing this deficieny by providing books to read, events to participate and interact with other people.

This in earnest is the gist of my rant; the next time you see a library, get yourself and your family member a membership card, make use of the library, participate and/or volunteer in the events conducted by the library. Be a part of your library community and that simple act can save the library from closing. Your town administration is definitely looking at the number of people using the library. You will be helping the underprivileged indirectly by keeping the libraries open. Also if you find out that your local library is closing, call or write to your local administration and express your support for keeping the library open. I did that along with thousands of other libraries in my local community. Hopefully the powers that be are listening.

Links of interest:
http://www.radiogolha.com/
http://www.nalbeki.com/RADIO/golha.htm
http://radiotime.com/station/s_81726/Radio_Golha.aspx
http://www.javad-maroufi.com/pageid=7.htm
http://www.khamush.com/works.htm
http://www.rumi.org.uk/divan.htm
http://freelibrary.org

Not Every Sea Has Pearls

Not Every Sea Has Pearls

O my heart, sit with someone who is enlightened with the matters of the heart.
Sit in the shade of a tree that is alive with the blossoms of spring.

Don't go around aimlessly in the market, like those who are lost.
If you are after sugar, go to the one who sells sugar.

If you don't possess a scale to weigh the merchandise, the shopkeeper will cheat you.
Someone will produce a fake piece and you will mistake it for gold.

You sit by the front of the house, waiting for one who goes inside and cleverly tell you to wait there.
Don't sit there waiting for him. This house has another door, and he is already gone.

Don't take your bowl and sit by every pot that's boiling with some brew.
Every pot is cooking something different. Know what's inside.

Not every cane contains sugar, not every down has an up.
Not every eye has vision, not every sea has pearls.

Cry out, O soulful nightingale,
For prayers said in the wilderness of suffering are answered.

Your enlightened hear is like a lamp; protect it under your robe.
Pass through these storms, for the winds are blowing hard.

When you pass through these storms, you will discover a spring of living waters.
You will find a companion who is enlightened.

When your heart becomes enlightened, you will be like a verdant tree,
whose branches continually bear fruits, and you reflect the light of the universe.

--Rumi, Translated by Jahan Tavangar.
Recited by Jahan Tavangar at One Book, One Philadelphia concluding event on March 17th, 2010 conducted by Free Library of Philadelphia.