Boy Meets Girl (I)

My sister prepares for Nowrooz at her house, March 1, 2008, Sacramento.
In the neighborhood where I grew up, everybody knew everybody. I don't mean the next door neighbors or the neighbors down the street. Everybody knew everybody in the entire suburban neighborhood! To be exact, my father knew everybody and everybody knew my father and our family. This made a lot of things easier for us as children of that household, as people always greeted us by name and local merchants were always attentive to us. But it was also a hassle, as we couldn't really get too naughty and do things because we would be immediately recognized and reported to my parents! Going out with boys and being rowdy on the street, and engaging in mischievous behavior, therefore, was a bit awkward because my mother would soon get wind of it and I'd have hell to pay! Around the age of 15, then, I decided to tell my mother everything I did and everywhere I went. I knew half the time she wouldn't give me permission to go, but when she did for the other half, I was home Scott free!
Among the many boys in our neighborhood, there was a skinny boy named Mehrdad. At 16, one year older than me when I first met him, he was funny and brave, and drove a beat-up old Jian, even though he didn't have a driver's license yet. My mother was friends with Mehrdad's mother, so when I started talking to her about Mehrdad and occasionally hanging out with him on our street, she seemed unfazed by the friendship. Perhaps in her wiser state, she could see that this friendship was not a boy-girl type of relationship, the type that was seriously supervised and disdained by families at the time, but that it was a friendship without emotional (read physical!) attraction. So she allowed it to go on.
Mehrdad and I were basically up to no good, but in a good way! We would get together and smoke and talk about boys, girls, our friends, our incomplete and ignored homework, and about anything and everything under the sun. Mehrdad taught me how good it is to have a friend from the opposite sex, who doesn't want to hold you and kiss you and date you, and instead, just wants to talk to you to find out what you think. He taught me about how boys thought, what they felt and what made them do the things they did without any inhibitions or reservations, I guess because we had no stakes in each other. I learned then how important it is to have male friends who are just friends. I could ask Mehrdad anything and he would try to answer me, albeit in his limited wisdom and experience!
As years went by, our lives and experiences would change shape, also. Mehrdad was attending a co-ed high school in Tehran. His stories about his high school life were becoming a lot more interesting than mine, attending a comparatively boring all-girls high school! Sometimes we would meet up after school and go have lunch before going home together, talking about life all the time.
To Be Continued... (Sorry, this was all background. I'll tell you one of my Mehrdad stories tomorrow.)


بانوي جشنواره زمستان said...

نازي جونم من بعد از مدت ها وقت کردم که بيام اينجا و الآن متوجه شدم که اونجايي
فعلا مي خوام سلام بهت بگم تا پستت رو بخونم

! said...

سلام نازی جونم
خوبی ؟
این داستانت واقعا زیبا بود
می دونی نازی جونم بعضی از این خاطرات کودکی شایدم جوانی و نوجوانی برای مدت زیادی شایدم همیشه در ذهن آدم ثبت می شه و میمونه
خیلی خوبه ..
شایدم خیلی بده ...
ولی راستش رو بخوای نازی جونم برای من هر خاطره ای که گذشته خاطره ی خوبه و من ازش لذت می برم
می دونی حتی بدترین خاطره ی زندگی من که درگذشت پدر بزرگمه هم برای من تکرارش بد نیست اصلا ...
خوب نازی جونم من از این خاطره ها یعنی از این دست خاطرات خیلی خوشم میاد و از این هم خیلی خوشم اومد ..
منتظر داستان مهردادت هم میمونم ...
شاد باشی و تعطیلات خوبی هم داشته باشی

! said...

ای بانوی جشنواره ای بانوی جشنواره
این بار نوبت شما شد نگذاری من گزیرش اول رو بنوسم ها ...
ای بابا..
ولی خوب اشکال نداره !
هر چند کلی ذوق کردم که می خوام اولیش رو بنویسم ولی اشکال نداره !!

بانوي جشنواره زمستان said...

چه جالب
دو کامنت با يه زمان

بانوي جشنواره زمستان said...

خيليييييييييي خوشم اومد ! مسابقه داديم انگار

مسعود said...

سلام نازی خانم
این اخلاق انسانی به ماهو انسانی تو محصول تجربه و گذشت زمان نیست،گرچه زمان و تجربه آن را پخته تر کرده،ولی ایجادش نکرده است.من از مشاهده امروز تو انتظار داشتم که دیروزت هم همین باشد.فکر می کنم این اشاره کافی باشد.منتظر و نگرانم ،به همان معنا که گفتم.
انسان خوبم آرزوست

بانوي جشنواره زمستان said...

پست ات رو خوندم... جالبه
ما هم به دليل شغل پدرم دوران کودکي رو در منطقه اي زندگي مي کرديم که همه ما رو مي شناختن و به خاطر پست سازماني ايشون هميشه مجبور بوديم که آسه بيايم و آسه بريم که .... اما هميشه خانواده من به خاطر کارهاي من ، ناراضي بودند
با موتور مدرسه رفتن و فوتبال بازي کردن با پسرها و فرار از مدرسه ... و تنها کاري که من مي تونستم بکنم تا نظرشون رو جلب کنم ، اين بود که خوب درس بخونم و
هميشه تو مسابقه هاي علمي و اين جور کارها رتبه بيارم تا اون ها هم چشم پوشي کنند...هرچند پدر و مادر من هميشه در تمام اين دوران فارغ از نقش هاي اوليايي ، نقش دوستي بهتري ايفا کرده اند
حالا مي بينم که شباهت هايي در زندگي هر کدام از ما وجود دارد ... خاطرات مشترک برخاسته از فرهنگ هاي جامعه و تضاد با درون هاي شاد و بي پرواي ما
اما خوشحالم که حداقل به راحتي تسليم شرايط و محدوديت هاي اطراف نبوده ايم
خوشحالم هنوز که خودمان بوده ايم و براي خويشتن ها، بيشتر از ديگر بودن ها ارزش قائل بوده ايم... من از تمام اين خاطرات خوشحالم اکنون

Roya said...

Waiting to read the rest of the story. But just wanted to say, your picture of your sister's flower arrangement made me change my mind about not spreading a Haft-Sin this year. Though I don't think I can find those nice flowers in this cold here.

Nava said...

Well, I first saw your piece on Afshin Mofid, and it made me go through most of your archive and get to know another cyber-friend, which I am pretty sure I will check her blog from now on regularly. Thanks for the beautiful, honest, pure, interesting and about-everything posts. I really enjoy them. :)

Anonymous said...

what a wonderful and interesting story. you are right; it is very important to have friends of the opposite sex so you can get a new perspective. I look forward to part II of the story!

Soshiyans said...

What an Iranian naughty gril!,(آخ آخ آخ، آخ)

---Big smile---

Houm, let me know the rest. (به به)

I am not sure such a naughty girl (!!) would not have killed too many boys in the town at the age of 18.

Please continue your confession nazy.

Nazy said...

Salam Neda Jan:

I have missed you so much! I didn't realize you hadn't come to visit, I thought you couldn't open the comments section! Never mind that, I'm so glad you did come. It was funny to see your interaction with Uni-Far! I'm also glad for our similar experiences, though they did happen quite a long time apart!

I hope you have enjoyed the story, now that it's completed.

Please come whenever you have time, Neda Jan. It's always a pleasure seeing you in my humble home. Take care my wonderful friend.

Nazy said...

Salam Uni-Far Jan:

You are so right about memories. I used to keep a diary and a story book when I was a teen-ager. Something happened (this will be another story, a harder one to tell, I'm afraid) and I stopped writing. I am now slowly writing about my current life and occasionally fishing out my memories and writing them, too.

You know, I want to tell you something rather sweet. I read books and stories to my children since they were born. I think they are really used to my reading things for them as a result. Sometimes, especially when I write about them, I call them and ask them to listen to something I wrote before I push the "Publish" button on my blogger software. They never refuse, and no matter how busy they may be, they wait and listen, and give me their opinion (and if it's about them, their permission). I find that reading my memories is something they particularly like. I am writing my memories for them and for their children. Everyone should.

Take care Farshad Jan.

Nazy said...

Salam Masoud Jan:

As you know by now, the story had nothing to do with me. I was just the observer then and the storyteller now. You are kind and considerate and I thank you for your observations and advice.

I might tell another story soon, but first I have to get some cultural work out of my way. Masoud Jan, by the way, you never replied to my email, telling you that I couldn't open the Forough attachments you had sent a while back. Could you please re-send them to me? Thank you.

Nazy said...

Roya, Roya, Salam!

Where have you been? I'm so glad you are gearing up for Nowrooz! My house is going to get cleaned this weekend, come rain or shine! I don't do much shopping. Ha Ha, that might be a big surprise to you, because women usually love to shop. I don't. I have enough clothes to last me an eternity (of old-fashioned clothes, no less!), and I hate the whole shopping frenzy many people enjoy.

But I actually went shopping happily this past weekend. I bought my sons new clothes for Nowrooz. I came home and handed the clothes to them. It's funny, because they don't really like shopping, either! But they buy their own clothes usually. The only time of the year they won't object to my shopping for them is around Nowrooz. So, now we have our new items of clothing for the new year, a very well-observed tradition in our household.

I hope you buy yourself something fabulous for Nowrooz, too, getting in the spirit further. Be good aziz-e man.

Nazy said...

Dear Nava:

Hello and welcome my friend! Another blogger friend--this is just absolutely fabulous for me! It means I can come and visit, too, which I briefly did this morning. Your space looks intriguing! I will come and read some more soon.

I am so glad to have crossed paths with you, specially over the Mofid story which near and dear to my heart and took several months of mental engagement for me to finish. Meeting you over that piece is one of the many rewards I received for the work!

Please come back again soon and be good.

Nazy said...

Dear Manata:

Hello, and welcome back! So, now I have been to your collective blogs and know that you are friends with sweet Shideh! What fun! Where do you live? In Berkeley? I scanned the posts in your blogs and they all sound so very interesting. I'm coming back for more!

I hope you have enjoyed the story, though it was a very "short" love story, never getting much past "Boy Meets Girl!" Hang with me, and I'll tell you more stories soon.

Take care Manata Jan and come back again soon.

Nazy said...

Soshiyans Jan:

O.K. I admit that I was naughty when I was younger....well, I admit that I have been naughty all my life, khoobeh?! But as you know by now I had nothing to do with this particular story! The only other girl in the story wasn't naughty, either, as it turns out!

It was the BOYS in the story who came up with all kinds of naughty and bad behavior, if you ask me!

Of course the girls in my time did some pretty outrageous things, too. I might tell some stories about that soon.

Have a good day wise Soshiyans!

Anonymous said...

You are talking with detective Soshiyans

Well, you helped yourself a lot with your confession, nazy. That was the wise thing you could do! Nazy, hereafter you can't elude by saying that "I had nothing to do with this particular story". I have lots of evidents in hand that you did had. Simply, If you hadn't started such a good friendship with Mehrdad, surely Vahid won't even have thought of the same with that girl. Similarly, Mehrdad didn’t try to help his friend with such a criminal scheme. As you can see, you were the cause of all those troubles naughty girl(!!). Now, I should send your files to Supreme Court, may be your husband. I hope he do not penalize you with banishing in his heart forever.

Nazy said...

Detective Soshiyans Jan:

Hee Hee! I had nothing to do with that story, why won't you believe me?! I was just the observer, learning through it all.

You might do better complaining about me to Supreme Court, because last time I checked, there was no husband in my life, so that would make things a bit harder for you!

Thanks for your funny comment Soshiyans Jan. Come again.