Monday, November 28, 2005
Bahar
Her name means "Spring." It's a Farsi word, coming from the deserts of Afghanistan, a barefoot word that covers its head before entering the Mosque. It has hope, just like the young men who fought with warlords against the Taliban for years.
Sure their hope may have been twisted by greed and ambition, but all inspiration and passion has some truth at its core.
Five years after 9-11, and not much has changed in the world. After a brief year or two of political unity, the country polarized again. The intense emotions of that time have faded. The Taliban fell with relative ease. The cave searches for Osama bin Laden seem a distant memory. Osama bin Laden himself an even more distant memory.
Like any national tragedy, the fall of the twin towers has become an icon. The image of clouds pluming from the two buildings have joined our national memory alongside exploding space shuttles, a naked Vietnamese girl on a dirt road, and John F. Kennedy riding through Dallas in a convertible.
Sure their hope may have been twisted by greed and ambition, but all inspiration and passion has some truth at its core.
Five years after 9-11, and not much has changed in the world. After a brief year or two of political unity, the country polarized again. The intense emotions of that time have faded. The Taliban fell with relative ease. The cave searches for Osama bin Laden seem a distant memory. Osama bin Laden himself an even more distant memory.
Like any national tragedy, the fall of the twin towers has become an icon. The image of clouds pluming from the two buildings have joined our national memory alongside exploding space shuttles, a naked Vietnamese girl on a dirt road, and John F. Kennedy riding through Dallas in a convertible.
