Regret

What a horrible thing regret is, absolutely horrible.  It makes you feel so helpless, powerless and filled with despair.  Why? Because there is absolutely nothing you can do about the past and how you have behaved, what you have done or said, what you have not done or not said, etc.  How do you deal with regret?  The short answer is to acknowledge it, accept it, and move on.  Really, what else can you do?

I guess it comes with age, the whole concept of looking back at your life, analyzing it to death, dwelling over every single decision you've ever made and picking at every road you have chosen and all the ones not chosen at the crossroads of your life.  

I myself acknowledge the right decisions and feel grateful for the correct roads that I've taken, but the dwelling and obsessing is mainly over the wrong decisions and the wrong roads taken.  Why do we do that to ourselves? The regret over the bad overweighs the gratitude over the good.  Too many points are taken away for the wrong doings and not enough given for the jobs done right.   

Regret is the worst feeling because it comes with blame, blame of oneself.  That's why it eats at you and eats at you until you are drained and all that is left is self doubt and perhaps even self hate.  

Sometimes its as simple as I should have ordered the hamburger instead of the pizza or  I should not have worn these shoes to this event or why did I just waste my time on this shit movie.  Sometimes its a bit heavier like I should not have let her treat me that way or why didn't I speak up when I should have or I wish I hadn't taken that time for granted.  Then it becomes heavier and heavier like I should have been a better daughter or I should have choses a different career or I should have should have should have should have.  Should have, could have, would have, the past is gone, that chance is gone, all that's left is regret.

You may not get a chance now to speak up when you should have many years back or go back and not take that time for granted, but on the other hand now you know to order the pizza instead of the hamburger, wear different shoes next time, or even become a better daughter if you still have a chance.  I guess what comes out of this is that perhaps regret gives way to learning and adjusting and changing where and when possible.

Perhaps most of our regrets are from early on in our life because we were inexperienced and didn't know any better (I mean how could you know? Listen to your elders? oh please!) As time goes by new regrets over big things become less and less because we have learned and adjusted and even grown.  Therefore we make less mistakes.  We end up actually making the right decisions more and more.  Yes, the daily low level regrets still exist such as I should have eased up on the botox a bit or maybe I should not have watched nine episodes of Outlander in one day (sometimes we just never learn).  But regret over major decisions and just bad behavior or which road to take become less and less.  This is due to wisdom and experience.  

So if it makes you feel any better, know that you have already made your biggest mistakes and have already gone down the wrong roads a long time ago.  It's less likely that you'd repeat it or find yourself picking the wrong roads to go down on again.  Your new mistakes will probably be too small to make you filled with regret and dwell and obsess over it later.  As for me, I plead young age and ignorance for all of my early mistakes and the regrets that come from it.  However, as for my new mistakes I can only pledge insanity because as we all know, insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

What's in a name

When I told him my name I didn't see any reaction in his face, not one which I was used to anyway.  No look of confusion or struggle or annoyance.  His reaction was of a matter of fact as he had heard my name a thousand times before.  He simply and happily repeated my name with ease and did so exactly how it was meant to sound.  The feeling that those ten seconds of interaction gave me was so overwhelming that it brought tears to my eyes and warmth to my heart, which later gave way to sadness and longing.  He was just an old jeweler at a small store taking my name down for an order I was putting in.  He wrote down my name without asking me how to spell it, without a hint of trouble, he just knew.  What a pleasant feeling I had at that moment, what a sense of comfort, a sense of... belonging.  I had said my name to him and he did not ask me any questions about it.  He knew it, he knew where it was from, he knew how to say it, he knew it's meaning, he knew how to spell it.  And I did not have to explain any of that to him, other than what my name was! I felt so connected to him at that moment that I forgot he was a stranger to me and I a stranger to him.  

Ever since I was twelve years old I dreaded the moment when someone asked me what my name was.  From teachers who found it a nuisance to have to pronounce it to office receptionists to sales clerks to baristas who butchered it without caring.  The back and forth that followed, how I had to repeat it a few times, say it slowly and not exactly how it was meant to sound, how I had to spell it slowly and multiple times.  How I had to answer a series of questions about it to the curious ones.  Where was it from? What did it mean? And the one that I hated the most, Do I have a nickname that they could use instead? or even worse, can they give me a nickname? Some people would just not even bother and call me by my last name instead, and without even a prefix in front of it.

I guess I could have changed my name or given myself that highly demanded nickname everyone was desperately asking for and make everyone's life easier.  Sure, I gave in and became "Sherri" or "Jackie" at times but that was mostly when I was interacting with someone who I'd never see again like when picking up my coffee or ordering Chinese food.  Neither myself or the busy delivery guy had time for the dull and annoying name dance.  But when I met someone who would be using my name more than once to address me I tortured them with the real one.  Why did I always refuse to make the change? Was is pride? Stubbornness? Was it to keep the only connection I had to my origins? Maybe it was because my name was who I was.  It was what my mom and dad called me from day one of my life, it was what my first friends called me.  It was one of the first things I learned how to write which I wrote on top of every drawing I did as a little girl and every assignment I completed in elementary school.  It was on all my hard earned degrees! Calling myself anything else would have made me an imposter.  I guess I preferred to deal with the struggles of keeping it rather than changing it to a something else which would make me a stranger to myself. 

The struggle with my name became a norm to me.  It wasn't until I was in my native land for a visit and came across people who I had never met that could pronounce my name perfectly and had no questions about it.  I was surprised at myself by the way I reacted to it with such intense emotions.  It was then that I thought about how even those who had known me for years and called me by my name never really said it right, never said it with ease.  I was faced with some questions of my own,  could I ever feel close, really close, to someone who can't say my name right, the way it was meant to be said? That's not fair to those who try so hard to understand and pronounce it.  Do I really feel closer to this man in the jewelry store taking my name down for an order than to a colleague of many years who I've shared so much with just because he knows of my name and pronounces it right? Could this be the reason why all the people who I have chosen to be friends with are native to my name?  Would this be why I never even imagined marrying a man who was not native to my name?  To think, being married to someone who doesn't say your name exactly the way your parents intended for it to be said! 

This could be called "the diary of an immigrant"as I'm sure it isn't specific to just me.  It's an identity crisis, the feeling of loss and longing and belonging.  The struggle of fighting to keep a shred of who you are.  The man in the jewelry store could say my name perfectly and beautifully.  He knew what it meant and it didn't make him think twice about the kind of person I was.  It wasn't odd or exotic to him, it didn't bother him nor did it have him make assumptions about me.  He made me feel at home, yet not a home that I had known for decades, not a home which would ever really be home to me.

The Survey

The graduate school professors would distribute two performance surveys per class, one in the middle of the course and another at the end.  The questionnaires' purpose was to determine the professors' performance and the students' take on the quality of the class.  The common practice was for the professors to take the surveys and review it on their own and with their superiors, taking praise or adjusting their work accordingly.

As I took the survey, I poured all of my frustrations on paper, stating that the professor takes her shoes off in class, exposing her Timberland socks, and puts her feet on the desk as she lectures.  I wrote that she eats, be it her lunch or a snack, while she is speaking during class.  I stated that she treats the classroom like her own private and personal living room and that she has no respect for the teaching environment.  I wrote that her behavior is distracting and unprofessional and disrespectful.  It felt good to be able to release all of the frustrations that had been building up in my chest throughout the duration of this particular class.  I was happy that finally someone will tell this professor to be professional and stand up in front of class and talk instead of almost laying down on her back and talking like we are at a slumber party.

I so desperately wanted to suggest for her to get a new haircut, point out the dire need for her to dye her gray hair and to update her wardrobe from 1965.  Even though these issues were distracting and frankly disturbing for me personally, I had to remind myself that this is not a fashion survey.  I figured that not only it could not be argued that these fashion disasters affected her teaching or the class, but also it was very unlikely that the extremely liberal graduate school in Psychology in Washington State would give a hoot about these things, most likely finding them not only insignificant but insulting.  And I surely did not want to be insulting!  

The next day in class I learned that this particular teacher's procedure is to read all of the surveys out loud in class and discuss the feedback with the students.  As she was reading my comments with a smirk, her tone was mocking.  All of the other students in class mimicked her response with a high and mighty air.  They all defended the teacher and every single person in the classroom knew who the writer of those comments was.  As I sat there quietly and wishing for a giant hole in the ground to suck me down, I was in disbelief and utter shock that I was the only person there who was bothered by this professor's style.

I finished that class in misery.

An immigrant in first grade

When I was seven years old, my parents decided that my mom and I would go to America and visit my sister and brother who where living there.  The three of us could not visit America together because an entire family would not be granted a visa due to risk of never returning home.  This way we would surely return since we could not leave my dad behind for good.  So we went on our trip which ended up lasting one year!
As I was school aged, I was enrolled in first grade in America.  Even though I had gone through first grade in Iran, my family decided that it was best for me to start fresh in America (a decision that set me back one year in my life).  I did not speak any English, I had no background in the American school culture.  At that time in America, immigration and children who did not speak English were not common so schools did not have any programs such as ESL.  Also, teachers were not trained in working with such kids if any came across their classes.  I was enrolled and attended school just like any other American child with no special assistance or consideration for my situation.  I went through the motions in school every day not understanding the lessons, the instructions, the homework and basically what anybody was saying.
I remember my classroom, I remember my cubby, the stationary that I was given such as brand new shiny number two pencils.  I remember the outside grass area and the playground, the bars that I did gymnastic moves on.  I remember having no friends.  But there are two things that I remember most vividly.
First of the two vivid memories is of two girls, friends who were always together, a blond with straight hair and a brunette with wavy hair.  Every so often the two of them would approach me, the blond would stand inches away facing me, looking down into my eyes (she was a few inches taller than me) and aggressively moving her index finger in and out of my face, intensely saying things loudly.  I did not understand what she was saying but I knew that they were mean words.  The brunette would stand behind or next to her friend and watch.
Second of the two vivid memories is of a day that I had not completed an assignment that the teacher had given.  One day I came to school in the morning that noticed that each student had brought in a large house made of cardboard.  Apparently this was an assignment that I had missed because I did not speak the language that the teacher was speaking.  There was a lot of excitement between the kids regarding their houses and the prize they were going to receive for completing it.  My feelings however were shame and fear for not completing the assignment.  Each student who made a cardboard house (all of the students in class) received a large red gummy cinnamon candy shaped like a bear.  Naturally I did not receive one.  Later in the day I saw one of those candies lying on the ground and thought about picking it up, but pride stopped me from doing it.

By the end of that year I understood and spoke English fluently as if I had been raised in America.  When we went back to Iran I was enrolled in and attended second grade.  My second grade teacher in Iran asked for a meeting with my parents in which she asked them to stop speaking to me in English at home (for practice), because my Farsi had developed an accent and she was afraid that the other children may make fun of me.

Golden Age Thinking

Have you seen Woody Allen's movie called "Midnight in Paris"? Well if you have, then you know me well, because I am Gil… Gil is me.  Just like Gil, I also want to live in the past, I too do not like the present and wish that I was born at a different time.  At a time in the past, long long ago, before cell phones, before computers, maybe even before airplanes and cars.  I wish that I lived during simpler times when life was easier and well perhaps happier.  A time when things moved slower, much much slower… slower and simpler.  My logic is complicated.

I always considered myself a progressive and independent woman, one who broke glass ceilings.  I seeked and completed a higher education, have independently made bold decisions, have held high and low level jobs, have traveled to many countries, have educated myself on multiple topics such as history, politics, sociology, etc.  And finally, in my life, I have confidently and without regret broken many of my culture's expectations and rules for women.

After years of being a woman of today, for reasons unknown to myself I have come to a place in my life where I crave simplicity, tradition and culture.  I slowly came to wish that I lived in a time when people's roles were pre determined and choices were limited. I wish that I did not know better and my knowledge was limited.  The simple time when women were expected to get married young, be protected by their men and have a family.  The time when women were not involved in the worlds of politics, finances and employment.  I realize that this confession will rise fierce anger and judgment against me from the feminists and progressive friends, but all I ask is to be heard and not judged.

I feel that if I did not know about politics, I would not be so angry.  If I did not know about art and culture and cinema, I did not feel the urgency to see and learn it all.  If I did not have the option for a career, I would not be judged for not having one.  I feel that life would be simple, no decisions to make, no glass ceiling to break.  I feel that if my world and my mind consisted of housework and child rearing, my life would be simple and slow, no decisions to make, no choices to ponder, no ambition to be concerned about … and yet more content?

At the end of Allen's movie, Gil realizes that he has been wrong about living in the past because the past does not have Novocain or Antibiotics and he realizes that life in the past would eventually become difficult and dull for him just as the present.  And as for me, I think what if I did live in the past but did not have the ignorance that I wish for? What if I am in the past with the current knowledge and thirst to learn and experience and explore? In the past, with no freedom and independence for women, an active and bright mind would live a hellish life in prison.

Who knows?…

A magical night in Venice

It had been a full day of exploring the sights, eating calzones, taking photographs of picturesque corners, taking a boat ride through the Grand Canal and buying classic masquerade masks.  I was tired and my feet hurt and my face was no longer fit to be in photographs after being in the warm sun for so long.  We were at a fairly quiet street corner where I found some steps to sit on and take a moment to rest.  As I got up to continue my walk through this fabulously gorgeous town, I came across a modest church.  It's small door was open and there sat a small table outside which held flayers for a show tonight, it was an Opera.  This was unexpected! The two young people sitting at the table spoke English and were able to answer my questions: Is this a formal event? No.  Are there seats left? Of course! Price? Inexpensive! When does it start? In about half a hour.  Wow! I never thought going to an Opera in Venice, Italy could be this simple!  Two tickets please!

As we entered the church, I noticed a difference between this church and the other ones that I and all the other travelers toured and took pictures of.  This church did not have elaborate golden altars or sculptures made by Michelangelo or seven story ceilings.  This church was a simple one, it felt cozy and comfortable and friendly with plain walls and wide stair cases.  It did not show off any collectibles or fancy memorabilia.  We casually made a line inside the entrance to wait for the hall doors to open, there were no seat numbers, this Opera show seemed to be very low key.  I could see through the doors that the sun was slowly setting and the day was turning in to dusk.  The doors opened and we entered a large simple hall.  It had a high ceiling with large old wooden windows and painted glass.  The walls were white and bare and the wood floors creaked.  There was no platform or stage for the performance; folding chairs were set up facing the front of the hall, wedding style.  I'm not sure if it was the causal air of the arena or the type of people who chose to go to this event, but whatever it was, it had made the audience highly friendly and kind to one another.  There was a very heavy civilized, smiley, courteous air all around and everyone was happy with the seats they received.  

The Opera was performed on the floor, at the same level of the audience in the front of the hall and at times in the middle of the row between audiences.  The actors/singers were in full costume but minimal make up, it was mostly singing and less acting.  It felt like we were a very large family having an entertaining evening together.  Although I could not understand the Italian language, I could feel all the different emotions portrayed by the performers; maybe it was their close proximity to me, or their great talent but it truly was one of the most enjoyable Operas I have ever been to.

The large wooden windows were open and the fresh night air made it's way into the building, as well as the sound of the narrow street outside and a few passerbys; this made the show even more alluring and romantic.  This casual and down to earth show was shocking to my expectation of a fancy, elaborate and dressed up Italian Operas! 

Then something amazing happened: it started raining! It was one of, if not the first rain fall of the beginning of autumn.  The wonderful smell of earth was raised from the cobble stone streets by the falling rain drops and made it's way into the church hall and into our little show.  The beautiful sound of falling rain was mixed in with the wonderful sound of the music, making it seem like it was coming from heaven.  The smell, the sounds and the feelings at that very moment in time, in that very spot, in that old simple church, amongst those friendly strangers was pure Magic! 

When the Opera ended and we left the church, the rain had stopped and we were left with the fresh smell of fall's first rain and the sparkle of Venice's narrow alleys.  It was back to being a beautiful moonlit night.

That night, unexpectedly, I had a little taste of magic at a small Opera performance in a simple old church in Venice.

My guide for the first time traveler to Paris

So you have decided to go to Paris! Good for you :) 

Here is a list of some things you need to know 

Pre-Planning 

Make sure you have a valid and current passport (it could take up to 6 months to get one).

Make sure to do diligent research on when it is the best time to go. You do not want to hit any holidays where things are closed or it is too crowded. Also check to see how the weather is because that is important. I like to travel in September because school is open so there are less tourists (less lines) and the weather is usually perfect. 

Do as much research as possible before going or making any reservations (sights to see, weather, money, language, etc.). Good sites are lonelyplanet.com, Travelocity.com. I always buy travel books (i.e. Rick Steves, Lonely Planet, etc.) and read before I go and take them with me. They have good information.

I recommend 5 days for Paris, which includes going to the Palace of Versaille (which is out of town).

Flight 

Check tickets on the cheap sights (i.e. cheaptickets.com, expedia.com, etc.), but go and compare prices with the actual airline site. If it is the same, buy from the airline. Try not to have any stops (they are a pain), but if there is a layover, make sure that you have enough time between flights. I usually get my tickets from Expedia.com and I prefer to arrive at my destination in the morning. 

Hotel

I have had great experiences booking my hotels through expedia.com. First, chose your area, how many stars you want the hotel to have and price range, then search. Read all the reviews from other people, they are usually right on! I usually chose 4 star hotels (Europe’s standards are a bit lower than the US) and the area is my most important category. Rooms will be very small so do not be shocked. They are very simple hotels, but clean and nice. I recommend staying in the area around the Louvre museum, it is very centralized and walking distance to a lot of sights.

Before you go 

Call your credit card company and bank and let them know where you are going and when you will be there. They will make a note of it and when they see you spending $ there, they will not put a hold on anything due to suspicious activity. I recommend taking your debit card and one credit card. The money exchange stations are usually a rip off. I recommend taking cash out of cash machines when you get there. Use credit card when possible because the rates are usually the best.

Call your cell phone company and let them know you will be traveling. If you’d like to use your cell phone there, then ask them about the different international packages they have. If you do not want to use your phone, I recommend not shutting everything off and still having it with you in case of emergency. But I usually tell them to shut off the ability to receive or send text (it is very expensive and you can’t control other people texting you) as well as data.

You do not want to have any concerns about your comfort when you are sightseeing. So take comfortable shoes and comfortable clothes (you will need layers for September in Paris). Take a comfortable and light bag or back pack (I like small ones that go across the shoulder) for everyday use. Take one or two nice outfits for a couple night outs too ;). Do not over pack.

Take a good camera for pictures. Paris is the most beautiful city in the world so you will want to capture many moments. Make sure that you have extra batteries, chargers, room in the memory card, etc. The last thing you want is problems with your camera while you are faced with a breathtaking image. I care about the quality of my pictures so I lug around a large and heavy camera, but if you’d like to stay comfortable, take a light small one.

Take an electric converter (you can buy them at Best Buy) with you in order to be able to use the European outlets to charge your electronics (and use your flat iron!). If you do not have one, they may have some extra ones at your hotel, ask the front desk.

Make sure you have the address for your hotel printed with you to give to the cab driver at the airport.

When you get there 

Jet lag is a big bummer. Adjust your time to the local time as soon as you get on the plane. For example, if it is night time in Paris at the time, sleep on the plane or if it is day time in Paris, stay up on the plane. What works for me is a couple hours of nap in the afternoon on the first day (sometimes for the first couple days). Make sure you get enough sleep at nights to have energy to sight see during the days.

Make friends with your hotel concierge (you will have a good one if you have a 4 star hotel), they can be a very useful resource to have. You can ask them for maps, suggestions, ideas, information, etc. They can even book tickets for you.

Take little snacks (i.e. bars) with you when you go sightseeing. You do not want any annoying distractions such as hunger to dampen your time.

Some Sights 

I recommend using the Double Decker Hop on Hop off Tour bus for sightseeing. It takes you to all the major sights and they tell you interesting information about what you are seeing (either a live guide person or through headphones). The bus stops at each site where you can hop off, go see the sight for as long as you want and come back to the stop and catch another bus which goes through the same rout. Usually a bus comes through every 20 minutes. Even though they may be different buses, but the rout and the explanations are exactly the same. Buy tickets (you can buy them at the hotel) for two or three days so you don’t feel rushed and can hop off at any stop you want any time. My husband likes to sit in the bus for the entire rout once and see all the sights first and then decide which one we’d hop off next time. Usually an entire rout is about 2 hours.

The Louvre is very large, you could spend days in there if you want to see everything. Study the guide before and decide which parts you want to see and go straight to those, depending on how much time (or energy) you have. Note: If you are there on a Sunday, know that most things are closed except for the Louvre.

The Eiffel Tower is located next to a grassy field where you can lounge around and take in the sight. If you like to go to the top, be prepared for a long line and wind. I prefer to see the city from above from the Basilica of Sacre-Coeur where it is prettier and free and no lines.

Basilica de Sacre-Coeur is a beautiful gothic style church sitting on top of a hill in Paris. You climb up on stairs and you get to the basilica and turn around and you will see the city of Paris before you. The basilica is located in the Montmarte area in Paris which is the area of the artists. You will find lots of little shops and cafes and many many tourists in that area. Go behind the church and take a walk around the old neighborhood, less tourists find their way there and you will feel like you are in an old French movie.

The Opera house in Paris is beautiful. If you are a fan of Opera or even “Phantom of the Opera” it is worth checking it out (there really was a body of water under the building!). September is off season for Opera but you can always get a tour of the historic building and see the famous chandelier!

If you are interested to see where the French kings were crowned or if you have read the book “Hunch back of Notre Dame”, then you can go see the Notre Dame. It is a beautiful gothic style church.

I definitely recommend spending one evening at the Moulon Rouge! You can make reservations and buy tickets through your concierge. It is a two hour fantastic dance show accompanied by dinner (one of the best dinners I have ever had in my life!). Don’t be taken back by the topless dancers, that is how it has been done for years, it’s art :)  The place gets packed so you will be sharing your table with strangers. Be friendly and make friends :)

Palace of Versaille is a must see. It is located just outside of town and there are some tours that will charge you a bundle to take you there. But you can also take the public train on your own, it’s super easy, just ask your concierge. I recommend scheduling at least ½ a day for it. I also recommend reading up on the history of the place before going, it makes it more enjoyable.

Recommended walk 

Start from the grand arch outside of the Louvre and go through the beautiful and romantic Jardin de Tuileries park all the way until it ends (stop and marvel at the sculptures throughout the park). You will then be at the most magnificent and historic intersection (consult your travel guide to know about the history). Continue down on Chaps-Elisees Boulevard through the famous shops and restaurants. At the end of the boulevard you will come to Arc de Triomph. Stand under the arch and not only will you be in the center of the largest roundabout in the world, but you will be on top of a hill with a gorgeous view of the city around you.

Food 

Paris has some of the best food in the world. Make sure to ask your concierge or use your guidebook to find good restaurants to eat at. I recommend having a good breakfast (in Paris it is always French bread with butter and jam, croissant, orange juice and coffee). Have a light lunch at a casual café or the street food stands between sightseeing and then have a great dinner at a nice restaurant at night. I usually like to come back to my hotel room after sightseeing, shower and change and go out to dinner. Remember that eating is a process for the French, they sit and enjoy many courses for hours while drinking and smoking and talking and laughing. Try to get out of your rush rush American mentality and join the relaxed Parisians in this experience.

Try snails, they are not that bad!

The French drink Cafes, which is like espresso.  If you would like a latte, then you have to ask for a café latte. If you just say Latte, they will bring you milk.

French Onion Soup is just called “Onion Soup” in France! :)

Other hints 

Customer service is very different everywhere outside of America, so bring down your expectations. The waiters will not be checking on you every 5 minutes with a fake smile on their face. Call them over to your table if you need them.

Consult your guide book about tipping in restaurants and cabs.

Most people in the service business speak fluent English and all menus and guides have English translations. So you probably will not need a dictionary to be able to communicate with others, but take a small one if it makes you feel safer :)

American tourists are known to be loud and obnoxious. Let’s help end that stereotype!

The Euro’s value is much higher than the Dollar so shopping will be expensive, but I recommend buying at least one nice thing to keep as a momentum of Paris. High end designer items will be less expensive in Europe than in the US because you do not pay taxes. Also it is good to know that they are from the latest collection and have not made it to the US yet!

Final thought

Lastly but definitely not least (and my favorite part of Paris), the best sight in Paris is her streets, buildings, cafes, people, etc. Just walk around the city through her narrow coble stone alleys and you never know what will come your way (a small antique shop, a cute boutique, a local bakery, etc.). Just look up and enjoy the elegant balconies on all the buildings and the lamps in the streets. Sit at a café and people watch! The people of Paris are cool and elegant and you can watch them for hours. Just accept that there will be cigarette smoke everywhere you go, so don’t let it bother you. Maybe even join in and have a cigarette with your wine or café! Why not? You are in Paris!

 I hope that this guide is helpful to you. Enjoy your time in the city of lights! ~ Shabnam ~