Listen to me
Me the dreamer of peace Tell them about me To your clan, to your friends Tell them about this hopeful dreamer. Tell them to listen Listen to my desires They’re not delusions Nor are they nightmarish fantasies Tell them of my hopes and Yes, that I am afraid Afraid of failure. It may not be much Optimism of an old man But that’s all I have and I’ll shout it to all who’ll hear, or not It’s my dream, my desire, my hope If I cry, if I laugh, if I live or if I die My dream will not change, not vanish Will not be drawn by other voices. For a world without peace cannot exist Nor can I live such, I don’t know how I want us all to be loved By us, by them, by our elders and our children Only then can we smile at life At ourselves and each other So, if I am furious and shouting Listen to me and my words There is only one world It’s yours, it’s mine, it’s ours It needs harmony, it needs peace, Only then will it be loved by all. Reza Ghadimi July 2024
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Last Tuesday (July 9th) was the birthday of the Queen of Romance: Barbara Cartland (1901). She wrote more than 700 novels and sold a billion books. She said: "My stories are always the same, because the girl is pure, and the man is not. The man will go to bed with any woman, but my heroine not until page two hundred, when she has a wedding ring on her finger. I tried writing modern books, but I found it very difficult to create convincing virgins in modern dress, so my stories are always set between approximately 1790 and 1890."
It is interesting that I have the same sentiment about today’s world leaders and politicians. As I find it very difficult to locate a peacemaker among them. The NATO Alliance is meeting in Washington this week, to celebrate its 75th anniversary. And not a one of them is talking about peace. Rather, they all boast about strengthening their military and preparing for more wars. The irony is that many of these so-called leaders either served or were present in the wars of the not so distance past. Just last month, many of the same ones met in France to remember D-Day, eighty years ago. Are we really forgetting our history? I don’t think that there has ever been a more appropriate time in history for a peacemaker. For this world is so in need of a Mahatma Gandhi or Martin Luther King right now. Reza Ghadimi As we celebrate in this time of uncertainties, ponder
A beautiful gift of life is experience. Experience gives us understanding. Understanding gives us knowledge. Knowledge gives us know-how. Know-how gives us satisfaction. Such wisdom gives us contentment. To be content, choose wisely. Reza Ghadimi I had an absurd idea of “what if”
I had come fifty years into the future From the nineteen seventies? How would I compare my today To fifty years ago? And I find myself Witnessing a terrible future. If I was to return to fifty years ago, Knowing the consequences of Fifty years’ happening, what Would I change? Could I change? A brother died of cancer long ago. Though he was younger, he never knew Cell phones, computers, or the internet. “I hope that you find a cure for cancer And make the future a healthier place.” He said to me once. Scientific advances raised my hopes For such an upcoming, but now Finding myself in the future of that era I am lost as to where we went astray. For despite all the advances And all the cures we could have had We are feeding the greed of a few. Fighting unwinnable wars Invading and killing neighbors Polluting and destroying that Which our very existence depends on. Still, I see the solutions in our hands. We just need the wherewithal to use it. Perhaps the younger generation Oh, the younger generation How I pray for the younger generation. Maybe the next fifty years! Reza Ghadimi My memory’s foggy at times - perhaps the old age
But I recall many instances of Practice around the world. Happy encounters on tropical islands Sad ones of losing a young patient to gang violence Horrified days, treating wounded soldiers. At times, I scream. Give me back my life Without painful remembrances. But I can’t change what has been. The sun rises, and the sun sets. On a life that has been full. In looking back, it is the smiles And giggles of children, Relieved faces of mothers And satisfaction one feels of An accomplished day that Reminds me of all the good days And the not so good ones too. The nights, I slept well, and The tossing and turning ones of Maybe I should’ve done that or Not should’ve the other. It’s been a full life and I can take solace in that over Half a century of practice as A Medicine Man, I always tried my Best, and treated the ones under my care With compassion. My memory is not as sharp as it used to be. But in remembering the life lived, I smile! Reza Ghadimi It rained this morning
The early morning thunder awoke all, startled An oddity in this desert world Dawn’s early light strained through the overcast Occasional flashes of sunlight reflected from fields of raindrops Otherwise, there is no change Not in the way the birds announce the day Nor in the ennui of drops from the eaves. The forest, though, seems happy Her showered scent of freshness Feels almost erotic Rustle of a breeze, spray the drops off the leaves And slide them down the branches, Caressing stock and body, joyfully One can almost hear the vegetation Sigh with pleasure. A light mist hides the mountain tops The fog hugs the canyon walls sensually Sliding within and through crevasses, cleave and folds Deep in the loins of the earth, the moisture Loosens rock and root to the pleasure of the land Nature is ecstatic and euphoric. We breathe the rhapsodic morning air and Delight in all its glory. It is a sensuous spring morning and all are glad to be a part! Reza Ghadimi When I was a little boy
My family owned a big bookstore In it we had lots of books For all generations and age groups. Some took us far away Others through mind's passageway Books that told a silly story And those that taught us history. There were picture books and magazines Almanacs, newspapers and quarterlies The bookstore, a first of its kind A big surprise for people to have at hand Skepticism abounded, and many asked "People are illiterate, why a bookstore?" "People are illiterate, so a bookstore!" Was the answer with a smile. At the start, they just passed us by Stretching their necks as they looked inside Then stopped and looked, curiously attracted. Finally, took a step inside, wide-eyed and fascinated Walking around the many isles Wondering eyes and questioning minds "You can read them, if you like." "I don't know how." They said back. "It's OK, hold it in your hand And with you, the book will have a chat." In their hands they held a book, Felt its weight, sense and power too. Cautiously they looked inside, Saw the words along each other's side So clean and orderly they were Page after page, book after book, shelf after shelf. With a sigh, they began to leave. "I wish I could read," said one with grief. "Oh, but you can, do not fret." "There are only 26 letters in the alphabet." "All these books are made of those letters. You can bet!" So it was that people came. Young and old, ladies and men. Teachers came and made connections. Classes started, students trained. Reading became a trend and then. No one passed the store again. The bookstore developed into a home For seekers of knowledge and wisdom. Much developed in that store As was seen in their happy stare, All because they were shown the way And kept their uncertainty at bay. In medicine, too, one can find solace, reward and happiness when treating patients as an individual, not a malady. And for their sake, not their money. Hence, gain satisfaction of being a true physician and a healer. Reza Ghadimi The sun this morning was late, waking me
My late start welcomed to a wonderland. Though it is spring, this late winter storm Blessed us with moisture In this desert and dry land. When the earth is parched and sun brutal Life hardens man, plants and beast. So, the snow on the canyon walls Trees and cactus was lovingly met. For, learned we have, to savor the little Wetness in the vaults of our body, well. To drain from the passing mist The mountains reached Into the heavens and pulled down the clouds Into the crevasses of canyons and valleys. A thick fog rolled through the dell and Up the walls. Trying to escape. The fingers of all thirsty life, though Reach deep into the heart of the mist Ensnaring the elusive moisture and drinking Its life-giving gift to heart's content. There is much hunger and thirst The world over, and man and beast Strive for a drop more and a few crumbs To live just another day. To deny them their need thus Is blasphemous. Reza Ghadimi April 2024 It was the third surgical case of that morning and the second knee arthroplasty. It was close to noon, we’d been working since 7AM and were getting hungry. I was assisting Dr. T. A very competent, mild-mannered surgeon. With us was Dr. A. a senior resident from our university orthopaedic department. The patient was in her mid-fifties, an obese and short lady. We had a little difficulty positioning her on the table for the procedure.Dr. A. who was a tall, athletic young man seemed disgusted with Dr. T’s meticulous attention to detail and, with a disdained (rude) voice, murmured something about her being too overweight and needing to lose weight.
“She can hardly walk, let alone exercise,” said Dr. T. in his usual calm and mild manner. “Why don’t we fix her knee, then she can work on losing weight.” Everyone in the room smiled and moved their heads in approval, including Dr. A. The procedure went well, and the patient moved to recovery. Above like objections and protests are familiar and, in today’s hurried and demanding environment, frequent. Sometimes we forget that we are there for the patient, not the other way. Another great surgeon and humane physician, I had the privilege of working with, used to say: In every case, I am grateful that I am not the one on the table. It makes me appreciative of being a doctor, and I’ll do everything to live up to the respect this job deserves. Such reverence makes for a happy and satisfying life. Especially in these days of for-profit practices. Spring arrived on Tuesday, March 19, 2024, at 11:06 PM Eastern and 8:06 PM Pacific time in the Northern Hemisphere, marked by the Vernal (Spring) Equinox.
Noted by many cultures as New Year for thousands of years. Nurooz, which means new day, is celebrated in many parts of the world. Zoroastrians were one of the early cultures that started their year thus. It is a time of purification and setting one’s intention for a new start. Other civilizations, such as the Mayan, also celebrated the Spring Equinox for hundreds of years before the Spanish arrived. Even the western cultures celebrated New Year in the spring till Julius Caesar changed it to January in 45 B.C. Interesting how mankind feels the need to tie everything to himself. Even unchangeable nature’s circle of existence. It is said that "as the seasons form a great circle in their changing, so does the life of a person - from childhood to childhood." Since many of our leaders are acting dangerously childish, perhaps it is time for our younger generation to step up and save our world. So "Arise and start anew, for much awaits to be done. All things evolve from the creator, and all must revolve to complete the circle of life!" It is time to complete this circle peacefully. Despite all the tragedies in our world, I wish us all a better and Happy New Year! May it be a peaceful one! Amen! |
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