Haiku

Just stupid

I was waiting for Jay in the mall. We were supposed to meet at 5:00 and it was half past and he hadn't showed up yet. Obviously this being two days before Christmas, streets and malls were overcrowded and through his every 5 minute reports on the phone, I knew that he was stock in the traffic somewhere. I had been wandering around in the mall and was getting tired , so I looked for a place to sit till Jay arrives.
I spotted a seat near the Santa stop where kids were standing in a line to take a picture with Santa and tell him what they wish to receive for the Christmas. As I was walking towards the seat, I was wondering if any of these kids' parents would go and talk to the Santa later to figure out what their kids have wished for. Or maybe they've already bought the gifts knowing what they want?!
This year , it seemed, they had added a new feature to the Santa stop! There was a closed area where parents could leave their children with two young women in red suits and go shopping for half an hour without dragging the kids along and in the meanwhile the kids could engage in a competition of making a LEGO model and winning prizes from Santa himself!
My seat was close to a group of kids who were getting really excited over the competition. While I was thinking how beautiful all this is, an annoyed and draggy voice behind me said : "This is just stupid!" Oh, I know this kind of tone very well. It belongs to a spoiled, rotten kid whose parents have not taught him how to behave , I thought to myself. And once more I was reminded of one of many reasons why I DON'T like children! The kid looked like a hopeless case. Apparently he couldn't figure out how to put the pieces together and instead of trying harder - this was what other kids where doing- he was just nagging. One of the girls in the red suit went to him with a smile and tried to show him how to put things together but the kid was already fed up with the game and wanted his prize from Santa! "We all get our prizes from Santa once we're done making the models. Do you want Santa to show you how to do it?", asked the girl in a very kind and enthusiastic tone.
I lost track of what they did and what the kid replied when Jay called me again to tell me that he'd be at the mall in 15 minutes. Once I looked back the kid was making another model with a very cute girl who seemed to know how to deal with Lego models pretty well since she was doing it so fast and was just telling the boy which pieces they needed next. By this time most of the parents had come back - apparently they could leave their children there for up to half an hour, maybe just enough time for them and the kids to take a break- and were waiting for their children to finish the competition. I noticed a lady with two Gucci and Armani shopping bags (they are very noticeable bags!) who was looking around. She saw her son and called him. "Colin" was the boy I was observing all this time. "Mom! I'm not done yet." he replied as he turned back to grab one of the pieces. "Daddy is waiting for us outside, you've played enough! Daddy would be upset if you're late.", she said in a firm voice. The boy looked at his mom and in a pleading voice asked for just 5 more minutes but she did not let him stay. When they were leaving the boy was at the verge of crying and while looking behind he said: " I didn't finish the game, what about my prize?" and as she held his hand she said: "It's just a stupid game!"
When Jay showed up, I didn't tell him about the boy. It would have made me even more upset to tell him the story.

خواب

لبه ی پشت بامی نشسته ام. خیابان زیر پایم هنوز آسفالت نشده و خاکی است. می دانم که می توانم پرواز کنم. کافی است کمی قدم هایم را تند کنم و در فاصله ی بین تند راه رفتن و دویدن ، کمی به پاشنه های پایم فشار بیاورم. قالیچه ای را که تازه بافته ام از لبه ی دیوار آویزان کرده اند تا خشک شود. انگار که بعد از بافتن ، مریم رویش نقاشی کشیده بود و هنوز رنگ خیس بود. قدم هایم را تند کردم و از پنجره پریدم توی خانه. هیچ کس خانه نیست و حس تنهایی بدی دارم. قرار است مهمان ها برسند و من نمی دانم تنهایی چه کاری از من بر می آید. صدای گریه ی یک بچه می آید. مهمان ها دارند از راه می رسند. دارم چایی به مردم تعارف می کنم و هیچ کسی به من نگاه نمی کند. همه سیاه پوشیده اند. کسی در می زند و قبل از این که در را باز کنم از خواب بیدار می شوم. اشک در چشم هایم حلقه زده و تنها چیزی که به ذهنم می رسد این قطعه از شعر سهراب است که این اواخر زیاد گوشه و کنار هر کاغذی می نویسمش ، وقت هایی که بیکارم:

پشت هیچستان، چتر خواهش باز است:
تا نسیم عطشی در بن برگی بدود،
زنگ باران به صدا می آید.
آدم اینجا تنهاست
و در این تنهایی، سایه ی نارونی تا ابدیت جاری است.

دزدیدن یا ندزدیدن، مسئله این است

چند وقت پیش کتاب "هیچ کس بیش از تو متعلق به اینجا نیست" اثر "میراندا جولای" رو خوندم. کتاب واقعا محشره. مجموعه ای از داستان های کوتاهی که نویسنده در طی سالیان نوشته. اونقدر کتاب رو دوست داشتم که تصمیم گرفتم ترجمه اش کنم و حتی شاید یه زیر شاخه براش توی وبلاگ درست کنم. به اولین چیزی که فکر کردم این بود که از اونجایی که من واقعا از کتاب لذت بردم و دلم می خواد که تمامی حقوق نویسنده رو به خاطر اثر زیباش حفظ کنم، بهتره که از نویسنده اجازه بگیرم. اولین کاری که کردم این بود که به ناشر کتاب یه ایمیل زدم و پرسیدم که از کجا می تونم در مورد مسایل مربوط به حق چاپ بپرسم. برام یه آدرس پستی فرستادن تا نامه ام رو به همراه سوالم براشون بفرستم. بله ، حق چاپ اثر خانم جولای به کلی به ناشر تعلق داره و من باید برای ترجمه و انتشار هر داستان از مجموعه ، بهایی بپردازم. برای اطلاعات دقیق تر و ... میتونم باهاشون تماس بگیرم.
حالا من اینجا نشستم، ترجمه ی نیمی از یکی از داستان ها جلوی منه و وبلاگ فارسی من رو کسی غیر از دوستانم نمی خونه. در مورد وضعیت مالیم هم ترجیح میدم چیزی نگم و با وجود این که مدتی بیش از 3 سال توی کشوری زندگی کردم که تمامی حقوق انتشار به سختی رعایت میشه، هنوز اصلیتم رو فراموش نکردم و هنوز میدونم که سی دی فوتوشاپ رو فقط یه آدم نادون به قیمت اصلیش میخره! پس به یاد شعر مولانا جلال الدین بلخی، به روزگار اصل خویش برمیگردم و ادامه ی ترجمه رو شروع میکنم. به زودی ، وقتی ناصر ترجمه رو بازخوانی کرد و زحمت ویراستاری رو کشید، مطلب رو همین جا میتونید بخونید.