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Quote by Forough Farrokhzad

“বিয়ের বেড়ি মেয়েটি হাসল আর বলল : এই সোনার আঙটির রহস্য কি, এই আঙটির রহস্য যা এমন এঁটে বসে গেছে আমার আঙুলে, এই আঙটির রহস্য যা ঝিলমিল করছে আর এতো দ্যূতিময় ? যুবক বেশ অবাক হল আর বলল : এই আঙটি সৌভাগ্যের, জীবনের আঙটি । সবাই বলল : অভিনন্দন আর ভালো থেকো ! মেয়েটি বলল : হায় আমার এখনও সন্দেহ আছে আঙটির এই মর্মার্থের । বহু বছর কেটে গেল, আর এক রাতে এক হতোদ্যম মহিলা সোনার আঙটিটা দেখল আর তার দ্যূতিময় নকশায় দেখতে পেল স্বামীর বিশ্বস্ততার আশায় নষ্ট হওয়া দিনগুলো, দিনের পর দিন একেবারে বরবাদ । মহিলাটি উত্তেজিত হয়ে কেঁদে বললেন : হায়, এই আঙটি যা এখনও ঝিলমিল করে আর দ্যূতিময় রয়েছে তা ক্রীতদাসত্বের আর বাঁধনের বেড়ি ।”

Quote by Forough Farrokhzad

Work

Bride of Acacias: Selected Poems

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Author

Forough Farrokhzad

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“Al-e Ahmad was fundamentally different from all the appropriators of his rhetoric. Even Shariati, who resembled him in many ways, never outwardly showed - and perhaps never felt - the doubts that Al-e Ahmad continually had and expressed. Ultimately these doubts prevented Al-e Ahmad from pushing any single solution as the salvation of Iran; he was the master of social and cultural critique but not of social and cultural construction. This failure was a mark of his extreme loyalty to and honesty about his own feelings.”

“Combined with this indecision was Ahmad's sense of being intellectually incomplete; he felt he had never really read enough and never studied enough to offer a firm opinion on anything. Privately he would assure his friends that they had no idea, they could not possibly imagine, how ignorant he was. In the semipublic arena of the dowreh on Islamic philosophy that he and Ali attended, when Ahmad entered the conversation he would talk brilliantly about a subject for a few minutes, then think up objections to what he had said, then think of things he should have read before he had spoken on the subject. Then, after adding several times, "What can I say? I don't really know," he would tumble into silence and, in his good-natured way, look even more deeply oppressed than he had before he talked. It was no surprise that Ahmad published so little.”

“It wasn’t until the music came to a complete halt, and out on the dance floor a couple of the waitresses came carrying a black plaque with Amir written on it and right behind a massive bottle of champagne. Everyone around the table was dancing and completely oblivious to the extravaganza taking place in front of them. One of the waiters popped the bottle open and started to pour glasses for everyone. Tara took one but she felt a little guilty. The black plaque with Amir’s name eerily reminded her of the same black plaque they carry at funerals in Iran. It reminded her of her grandfather’s passing. They carry the card to ensure all family members see you in the chaos that is the cemetery. And here, she thought to herself, how different can one world be for two groups? One group frolic around, draped in luxury to celebrate life and the other, wail in black, to mourn death.”