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May 27, 2007

You would have liked it

Well, I didn't expected your leaving to hurt so much. But it did and still does. We had a diner for you, for your mom, sisters, family and friends. You would have liked it. There were close to seventy five people, I guess you had touched more people on your short stay than I expected. Marjan took care of all the arrangements, I wrote you a farewell letter in Farsi, and had Ali Dolatshahi write it down in NASTALIGH letters. He drew beautiful columns on its sides. I framed the original one for your mom, and made copies for every one else. yes, you would have liked it.

I asked my friends at the seminary in Cheshire to come and sing hymns for you, and one of the fathers sang Ave Maria. It was beautiful and serene, it was different. eh, it seems we went through the steps, the stages one by one, as we were expected, as I was expected, to do what was proper, a good by party you might say, although Afshin Godarzi insisted in his talk at the podium, " keep him alive amongst yourselves and your daily living, keep him present", I liked that sentiment so much, I had experienced it since you went away, getting up in the morning with you present in my mind, or going to sleep thinking about you. Talking to you while driving, walking, working. Yes I liked that sentiment so much, I thanked him for it. You would have liked his talk, or the way he played his Seh Tar for you. Ali Dolatshahi, had written a poem for you, it was soothing, and in so many ways, so optimistic.

Your cousin read from a letter and old friend of yours had written and emailed. About you deciding to make Khoreshteh Gheimeh at two in the morning, and how you went to find Lappeh for you stew. Your uncle also talked, and your mother cried while your pictures came on the screen one after another with so many faces of you, mostly comical, all smiling , the way we all remember you.

The dinner and deserts were served, and the night sped away, as life goes, in its merciless order. Many people were gracious, thanking me, like I had any choice, like I did it for you, not understanding how much I did this for me,
and maybe for the way we were, you and me.

So we go on, with you amongst us I am sure, this business of living that goes on, the way it should be. there is still the pictuer slides of you in the back of our mind, and the pictures pop up one after another, as i and many of your friends, your mother and sister watch. Happy trails my friend, where ever you are.

Posted by Idinraha at 12:20 PM | Comments (0)

May 11, 2007

Homayoun

Yesterday morning Marjan sat me down in the family room and told me you passed away. and the word AWAY stood out and somehow in my head I had a picture of you of last Saturday as you walked out of my store, walking the same way I had seen you walking in the last forty years. Forty years, yup forty years. Your body bent a bit to the left with your head slightly bending to the side. The same way you stood next to me at nine years of age on the stage of our elementary school when we sang Do Ray Me for the crowd of the parents and I still remember your Mother sitting in front poised and smiling with her eyes sweet and kind looking at you adorringly

There was silence I was looking at Marjan as she reached and held my hand. there was silence and it seemed there was a fog gathering outside our house, over the city, the town and the planet. I could not say a word. trying to find some opening, some way out, going over her statement in my head. but the words were precise and so definite in their meaning, there was no way out. I was trying to justify what had happened, and instinctively to further myself from all those jagged words that were the last reality of a Forty years friendship.

All yesterday I went about my daily work, I found your sister Zohreh's number and tried to reach them, nobody answered. Maryam sent me the Email that your friends had put out the day before announcing your sudden departure. I had not received that. It said there was a gathering at the funeral house that morning at nine, and immediate burial at the Muslim cemetery. Well if you were watching us from where ever you are now , I missed you at both occasions, and I was not sad, I needed more time to let go of you. all day yesterday you did not leave me, you were around with all those images, forty years is a long time, and we had covered so much together. From our adolescent lust for Mrs Vaziri, or arguing if Soheila Salahshore had a crush on you or me.

We never left each other alone, as we grow up, drinking Pepsi and sweet bread, and later beer and those beloved sandwiches of yours Bologna or sausage with beans and pickles, tasty as they were and how we enjoyed them.
High School separated us but we still manged to get together for movies, a game of poker, and long long walks along Pahlavi street after the movies, discussing characters, or the plot of the movie, poetry, writing, politics, just you and me. We fit well, both sensitive both curious, full of youth and its promises. You always insisted for me to walk you half way back to your house after we moved from the old neighborhood. Time passed, you moved to Shiraz, and later on, I left for America.

I found you here again. we became roommates, you were one of the main connections to my past and roots, and there was always a solid keen-ship between us that rooted in old dreams and certain melancholy of early adulthood. and then I lost you again not because of distances but life came between us, family obligations, and your eternal persistance not to accept the reality of all the changes. You lived the way you wanted, mercilessly stubborn and always walked outside the limits, I assimilated and we went in different directions.

Somehow the train left the station, I reached for you but you just stood there, a solitary figure insisting in holding his ground. Why, I don't know. There were demons for both of us , the pure melancholy that is the heritage of our Eastern upbringing which all the displaced souls like us wrestle with. I took the poison, and you did not, I took the train, you stood behind, and as train sped away as You walked off the stage.

You never fit the mold, and I can not forgive you for not trying harder, making me and every one who loves you witness your quiet destruction, as you cut yourself and bled and then cut again. I told zohreh this morning, I wish I was more patient with you, I wish I tried harder, I wish you were kinder to yourself, we could have been friends for fifty or sixty years, the last forty went so fast. there are more movies we could talk about, more memories,
playing cards, chess or backgammon, talking about our old silly rivalries.

You were shy, sensitive and kind to every one except yourself. I thought about it last night, you were polite and never hurt anyone knowingly, but yourself. I am gonna miss you, I did not know how much until this morning when driving to work, I exploded and cried hard, I needed that, you have been all over me since yesterday and as I used to tel you jokingly I can only take you in small dosages.

Playing hide and seek, losing you in the school hallways, in the classrooms, I will be looking for you still for a long time, waiting for you to open the door to my store and walk in with a rug you just found................ and I will still tell you Mrs Vaziri liked me better, and Soheila Salahshore and Mojgan both had a crush on me...... and you better deal with it...................................

Posted by Idinraha at 09:04 AM | Comments (0)