7/24/2007

Her Son

This is a sad piece. My heart wrote it very early this morning. I dedicate it to Gol-e-Nargess.
Last night I couldn’t fall asleep, because of something I had learned yesterday. I was thinking of the fifth family I now directly know who lost a loved one in Iran-Iraq war. I was thinking about a mother, a sister, and a brother who have had to deal with their loss for years, seemingly never getting over it. I was also thinking about a story I had written, but which was too painful to go back and to re-visit, even if it was just to edit, proofread, and publish it on my blog. As tears ran down my face in the dark, landing on my pillow, I thought of that story again, feeling the obligation to finish it and to share it. I have no illusions about my readership, but for the few that do read my writings I think I will write the story soon. The stories of those who died in the war, whether people choose to call them heroes, martyrs, dead, lost, or missing, all sound the same on the surface. Digging deeper, however, there are distinct stories of each individual, who lived a unique life, touched others around him uniquely, and died a unique death, further touching and affecting the lives of those around him. Since their deaths, families and friends of dead soldiers have all had a life completely different from the lives they were living with their loved one. Their lives are now burdened with feelings of loss, bereavement, nostalgia, anger, and simple longing for the young man who never returned, the way his eyebrows raised in surprise or knotted in thought, the way a smile would dance on the corner of his mouth, the way his tall and lanky figure would fill the door frame, the way his practical jokes and foolery would delight his mother and sister, the way he would steal tah dig pieces from the plate on its way to the dinner table. So many of those families still have his bed just as he left it more than two decades ago, his clothes hanging in his closet, his soccer ball and his badminton racquets in a corner, his books and school notes neatly kept on a shelf. Those families are not waiting for their sons anymore. They are waiting for themselves to finally accept his absence from their lives, or to join him in heaven. There is a story to be told--quite naturally a sad one, just thinking about which stings my puffy and tired eyes this morning. I will tell it soon. Photo by Nader Davoodi, Iranian.com

14 comments:

nimshab said...

salaam Nazy joon, hard to read these stories, harder to tell them may be. But I am eager to read yours. BTW, the persianlog is down and I cannot post no more. Missed you and will call you sooner or later. Best!

SERENDIP said...

Thank you nazy jan. I'm so overwhelmed with gratitude.

Anonymous said...

نازی جون متشکریم
آذر و آقای ه

ا. ش said...

شب به گلستان تنها منتظرت بودم
باده ی ناکامی در هجر تو پیمودم

بشنوید با صدای زنده یاد داریوش رفیعی نغمه ی "انتظار" برای آن پری که روزی از راه فرا می رسد
http://www.iranclip.com/player/370

Nazy said...

Salam Nimeh Shab Jan. I have most certainly missed you! What is happening with Persianblog? I am deprived of all my favorite blogs, including yours! Why is it taking so long to fix it?

Thank you for your kind comments. Not all stories are happy ones, and not all storytelling is joyful. It really does help to have an audience who appreciates the message of the heart, no matter how happy or sad it is. Thanks Azizam. Take care.

Nazy said...

Serendip. Thank you for coming and for reading me. Thank you for being your awesome self, Serendip.

Nazy said...

Happy Life Azar Joon & Mr. H!

Nazy said...

Salam Alef Shin Jan: Thanks for coming and for your comment. I love Dariush Rafiee's voice and his music. I went to his gravesite many times in Zahiroldoleh Cemetery in Tehran.

I tried the link you left me, and once in iranclip, it indicates that the URL is missing and the audio file cannot load.

A. SH. said...

I checked the link again. It works! I hope you can open it too.
About the persianblog, please try it with persianblog.ir not .com.

Nazy said...

Alef Shin: I just remembered that I know this song! I have it on my Dariush Rafiee CD. It is a lovely song, and the lyrics are a perfect match with what I wrote. Thank you for your sharp observation.

My computer does not work properly, and that might be why the clip doesn't work on my end. If other people have a problem with the link Alef Shin has recommended, the song can be downloaded here:

http://www.musicbox.ws/?Path=/Persian/50%20sal%20mosighi%20irani/04/

Thanks again for coming.

nimshab said...

Nazy joon how come there is no farsi/persian option for language in blogspot? Do you know if we can ask that to happen? There are lots of persian bloggers as far as I know. Any suggestion?

Nazy said...

Nimeh Shab Jan: Salam! I know of bloggers who blog in Farsi on Blogspot. I'm sure it's possible. Perhaps I can ask Mrs. Shin or Mr. Alef how they do it. I'll be in touch. Be good.

ASSAL said...

I AM WAITING WITH ANTICIPATION FOR THIS STORY. THERE WAS A TIME IN MY LIFE DURING MY FRESHMAN AND SOPHOMORE YEARS OF COLLEGE, WHEN THIS WAR AND ITS EFFECT ON OUR SOCIETY, WAS ALL I THOUGHT ABOUT AND RESEARCHED. I HOPE TO SEE YOUR STORY SOON NAZY JOONAM...

Nazy said...

Assal Joonam: You sound responsible and sensitive as usual. I think that war and the way it touched two nations, will never be forgotten. There are mothers who mourned the death of their sons, and there are mothers who have taken care of their beautiful sons in bed, paralyzed, for the past three decades, mourning more than their deaths. The story is ready. I should hope to share it soon. Be good my dear friend.