8/29/2007

Shahrivar

These days classes have started both at UC and at my kids' college, as well as in many schools. This marks the beginning of the Fall season in these parts. My mental calendar, however, still considers these days as the last weeks of summer. I am filled with images of rice harvest in paddies in Northern Iran. I know these days everybody in Gilan prays it won't rain. Rain would surely hamper the harvest. I have rice paddies (shalizar) in my thoughts.
I am also filled with memories of my childhood and all the work that was done in Shahrivar (August 22-September 21) in our house in preparation for Fall and Winter. We had to stop sleeping outside on the balcony in Shahrivar, because the air would get too chilly at night. Our home was filled with the hustle and bustle and smells of making homemade lime juice, tomato paste, pickles, and jams. My mother would lead the family in letting go of the sweet and easy air of Iranian summers, getting ready for the active seasons ahead.
Paying homage to my childhood memories, during the years we lived in Tehran, one day in mid-Shahrivar I would take my kids and their friends to Tehran Bazaar, where in Bein-ol-Haramain we would find wholesale stationery shops. We would buy school supplies and return home to celebrate the beginning of the school year, and I would help my children make memories they would cherish for the rest of their lives, just as I had done as a child. I miss the excitement of this time of year. I miss Shahrivar in Iran.

13 comments:

مانا said...

من هم شهریور را خیلی دوست دارم.شهریور را ماه خودم میدونم

نمیدانم چرافکر میکنم چون در این ماه به دنیا آمده ام پس ماه منه!پر انرژی باشی نازی جان

! said...

Nazy aziz
your post today throw me to the endless dreams of past ...
thanks for your lovely and (I dont know what should I say may be) nostalgic post ...
__________________________

these days the warm smell of Mehr spread out the air ...
I really love it very much ....

jeerjeerak said...

Oh those days before school opening. The smell of new stationary. The new uniforms that always needed altering. Covering my new books and notebooks with colorful papers and nylons...

Very nostalgic, Nazy jan.

Assal said...

Even though I've only gone to school in America and know no other way, your post has made ME miss the memory of YOUR Shahrivar...

Ehsan said...

"I miss Shahrivar in Iran"
Me too. I think the second half of Shahrivar and the first half of Mehr were the only times throughout the year that I actually liked school. Summer holidays in Southerns Iran used to last nearly four months and by the time we got to Shahrivar it started to get boring, plus the anticipation of starting the higher class and new books and new stationary, ...
I also share with you the memory of maiing homemade lime juce in Shahrivar. We made aab-ghooreh (sour grape juce) too but rarely tomato paste.

Nazy said...

Salam Mana Jan. Happy Shahrivar to you! When is your birthday? I know what you mean about feeling like you "own" the month of your birthday. I feel the same way about Mehr. Be good azizam.

Nazy said...

Ah Universal Dimension. Yes, nostalgic is the right word. I know what you mean about the "smell" of months and seasons. Where I live now, we don't have drastic seasonal changes like Tehran. There is no snow, and we have year-round morning and late evening fog, with mostly mild weather all-year-round. Though seasonal changes are quite tangible, they are not drastic. I miss the really hot and long summers, the short falls, the freezing winters, and the quick springs of Tehran. Soon, Vali-e-Asr Avenue trees will start seeing their leaves change colors and by Aban, they will fall, creating heaps of leaves on the sidewalks. I miss it all. Enjoy the seasons Uni-Farshad Jan.

Nazy said...

Jeer Jan. I remember covering my books with transparent plastic! For many years I did the same thing for my children's textbooks in Tehran, only by this time I would buy ready-made covers!

I remember when I was in high school, before putting the plastic on my books and notebooks, I would put a picture of Dariush on! Ha ha, now THAT's nostalgia, my dear! I was obsessed with him! Years later I met him in person. I wished I hadn't, as my bubble burst. Years later, again, I saw him in person. This time he had quit drugs and was a decent human being, loving his wife and his young boy. I'm glad I saw him again. With his dedication to saving Iranians from drugs, he is closer now to the idol I had as a young girl.

Thanks Jeerjeerak Jan. Be good.

Nazy said...

Thanks Assal Jan. You are so sweet. Of course, starting the new school year is an exciting time everywhere.

I remember taking my kids to school in Kensington Hilltop Elementary School, leaving them, then standing by the window looking in on them as their first class started! I never forget the day my younger son started school and the teacher asked the students where they had gone during the summer. There was a map of US on the board, and each child pointed to where they had gone on the map. I was watching through the window, wondering how my son would be answering that question. As I watched him stand up to answer the question, I saw the teacher release the map of US to roll up to its place on top of the blackboard, pulling down a world map as my son walked up to the map and miraculously and quickly picked Iran on the map, showing it to the class!

Thanks for reminding me of that sweet memory today Assal Jan. You are a good egg.

Nazy said...

Hee Hee Ehsan Jan! Thanks for sharing your nostalgia, in the process reminding me that I am of a generation during whose time tomato paste was homemade! I love your Boushehr post today. I'm going to borrow some of your sweet photos soon. Be good Mohandes Jan.

Ehsan said...

Nazi,
Tomato paste doesn't have anything to do witth generation my dear. Were would we get so much good and rpie tomato in Bushehr? Not everywhere is as agricultrally rich as Shomal :-)

Nazy said...

Ehsan, you can't fix it now! Just kidding, of course you can! I remember in our house crate after crate of ripe tomatoes was hauled into the yard, and the whole process of washing and cooking the tomatoes in giant pots over open fire feels like it was only yesterday. By the time I was a teenager, all Tehranis bought ready-made "Yek-o-Yek" tomato paste cans, and the whole practice became a thing of the past. This is why I talked about "generations." All kidding aside, I don't mind my age or my generational "address." I believe it adds character to me! Be good Ehsan Jan.

! said...

:)