3/04/2008

Boy Meets Girl (III)

View from the 29th floor Boardroom, 44 Montgomery Street, San Francisco, today at 3:00 p.m.
One day Mehrdad called to see if I wanted to have lunch the next day after school. Things were a bit easier for me now with my mother, so she gave me permission to go out for 2 hours after school. The next day, when he picked me up 45 minutes late in his banged up Jian, I was shocked to see Mehrdad! His left eye was shut, swollen, and black; his lips had a gash in them and his clothes were crumpled and soiled. “Oh My God! What happened to you?” I asked! He wouldn't say, as he started the car, driving fast and recklessly. I decided to play it cool and wait. Taking a deep breath, I asked where we were going. He said: "Somewhere where nobody knows us." So we went to Baghcheh Evin, an old-fashioned tea house in Northwestern Tehran, where the only food served was deezy. I ordered food and tea, and got Mehrdad a wet Kleenex and handed it to him with a mirror, telling him to check out the blood on his upper lip. He did and returned the mirror to me, saying "If my lip didn't hurt so much, I would laugh right about now!" So, that was a good sign for me to ask him what had happened.
He said it had all started with Vahid's telling him yesterday morning that he had had a brainstorm and had come up with a brilliant idea to finally "meet" that girl and start talking to her, except that his plan needed Mehrdad's help. Mehrdad had listened intently when Vahid explained his scenario to him. "Mehrdad, I think girls like heroes. How about if something happens and I come to her rescue? She's got to start talking to me then! I have a brilliant plan. How about if as she gets close to the bus station tomorrow, you approach her very quickly, run into her, and make her lose her balance and drop her books? I can then arrive on the scene, push you around a bit, then bend to collect her books and hand them to her, and then I will introduce myself and we can start our friendship together."
Mehrdad told Vahid it didn't sound like a very good idea, and there was no way he was going to be "pushed around!" Vahid kept begging Mehrdad and Mehrdad eventually agreed, in return for 20 toomans and Vahid's promise that he wouldn't be too rough to him when "pushing him around."
Mehrdad and Vahid waited by the school that day. The minute the tall girl appeared, Vahid gave Mehrdad the orders to start walking toward her, with Vahid following him a few steps behind. Mehrdad was heading straight for the girl at a fast pace, gaining speed and force as he approached her. He aimed and hit his shoulder against the girl's opposite shoulder, startling her, and causing her to lose her balance, her books and bag flying out of her hands and falling strewn all over the sidewalk. Several bystanders saw this and stood frozen with the shock of the event. At this time Vahid descended on Mehrdad, grabbed him by the collar, and slapped him hard across the face twice, punching him in the stomach. Dizzy with the shock and pain of the strike, Mehrdad looked at Vahid perplexed and confused for a minute, doubling over with pain. He looked at Vahid and yelled: "Vahid, namard, to keh gofti yavash mizanam!" (Vahid, you S.O.B., I thought you told me you won't hit me hard!).
The crowd gathered around the spectacle hissed with surprise and dismay at hearing this. Vahid who had bent over to pick up the girl's books looked up and saw the girl's anguished and angry face. When he stood up to hand her her books, he was faced with a slap across the face from her. Some other people bent over and picked up the girl's remaining books, handing them to her, and she took off toward the bus station, shaken up and pale, without a word. Vahid turned around and looked at Mehrdad who was in pain and anguished, too. But Vahid had no sympathy for his friend at this time; he saw him as the cause of his loss of that girl forever, so he got busy, beating poor Mehrdad up! That's how Mehrdad got the black eye and the bruised and cut lip. Add to that his bruised ego and his disappointment in the way his best friend had treated him, the young man was a sight, above and beyond consolation.
Our food and tea arrived, but it was quite evident that Mehrdad was in no shape to eat and drink anything. So, I encouraged him to drive us home and go have someone take a look at that lip. As he started looking and feeling better several weeks later, and for years to come, every time I saw him, our inside joke was for me to whisper to him: "Vahid, namard, to keh gofti yavash mizanam!"
The End

30 comments:

مسعود said...

سلام نازی خانم
خیلی جالب بود.اول لبخندی به لب ظاهر شد و پس از اندکی:پقی زدم به خنده.خدا حفظت کنه! ولی واقعا نمی تونستی همون اول که مهرداد راجع به مشکل وحید گفت،یه نقشه ظریف و درست و حسابی بکشی؟
تو مگه برای وصل کردن نیومدی؟
اما خودمونیم اون سیلی ای که وحید خورد از تمام کتکی که مهرداد خورد،سخت تر بود.راستی حالا کجان؟
شب و روزت بخیر باشه

Nazy said...

Salam Masoud Jan:

I'm so glad my story wasn't as predictable as it seemed in the beginning! Hee Hee! No, I couldn't do anything to help, I was too young! Even now, I find that I don't have good answers to questions of the heart and my supposed "wisdom" can only help people get out of trouble some of the time!

Mehrdad lives in Spain with his wife and three grown children. I don't know about Vahid!

Happy Wednesday Masoud Jan!

Anonymous said...

WOW!
Nice story :))...
I remember a friend of mine was in love with a girl whom he saw her in bus station (nearly everyday)!
The girl wasn't flexible (Her secret name in our talks was "onoghi"! and she pays no attention to him! (even one day he asks his friend to punch him, but this hadn't worked either!)...
He told me his story and asked me for help...
We were 14 -15 years old on those days!
I'd written a small poem for him and a letter and asked him to put it infront of her house just before she reaches her house (in the time that she can see who is putting the letter there)!
The poem was like this:
دلبرا می‌کشم از عشق تو آهی گاهی
بنواز عاشق خود را به نگاهی گاهی
پارسا هم به جهان با همه دینداری خود
می‌زند سر هم از او فعل گناهی گاهی
Well, it worked for him!
She smiled to him the next day and none of our friends knows the unfolded story between my friend and I!

Shaad ziid

Anonymous said...

I was waiting for a happy end love story. But, this one was really funny. I love the way that you tell the stories.

Anonymous said...

Nazy jaan,
very funny story, and beautifully said.
But my cruel conclusion:
Mehrdad deserved it. He shouldn't have said those words. Hee Hee :-)

Unknown said...

that was a funny and unpredictable story :))

Anonymous said...

Poor Mehrdad. He should have let Vahid have it after that. I thought you were going to say that the bystanders got a hold of them both and taught them a lesson, or worse, that someone else had seen Mehrdad push her and had taken it upon themselves to beat him up in her defense while Vahid ran away! Isn't it funny how a boy thinks that beating another boy up to somehow show the girl he likes her is normal? Girls would NEVER do this! Thanks for your story, Nazy. Zan Amrikai

Anonymous said...

سلام بر نازی عزیز. آدم ها گاهی فراتر از گفت و شنودهای رو در رو با افراد و نقش واضحی که در زندگی آن ها دارند، بر فضایی گسترده تر نیز تاثیر می گذارند؛ مثل تاثیر بازی بدون توپ یک بازیکن حرفه ای در زمین فوتبال!ء
می توان همیشه به این اندیشید که آیا بدون وجود فلان کس سیر حوادث به همان شیوه ای که اینک رخ داده رخ می داد، ولو حتی اگر آن کس ارتباطی آشکار با موضوع نداشته باشد؟
وقتی هویت و سرشت نگاه کسی در درون دیگران زنده است، نمی توان تاثیر شگرف آن نگرش بر روند رخدادها را نادیده گرفت. در این قصه ای که برای ما تعریف کردی، نگاهی معطوف به "عشق" و دوستی با درجه ی بالایی از خلوص حضوری موثر داشته، نگاهی که همه در آن سهمی داشته اند، ولی شاید سرچشمه ی جوشش آن را بتوان در قلبی یگانه جست.
بازی بدون توپ در زندگی زیباست ...ء

احسان الف said...

Boys do crazy things in order to meet girls when they are in that age.
To be honest, half way through the story, my guess was that you were going to give Mehrdad and Vahid some idea on how to meet the girl but then when they tried to execute the plan, the girl was going to turn out to be yourself :-)
Yours was a funnier story though. Thanks for sharing.

Anonymous said...

Hi Nazi Joon,
It was a very sweet story, I thought you were the tall girl,and your friend got a little over protective. Any how I was wrong, you ended the story better.
it is so nice to read your blog at night before I start my nightly reading and writing.
Mehr,
Mina

Anonymous said...

هاها.بامزه بود

Anonymous said...

سلام نازی جونم
ای بابا
بعد از مسابقه ای که با ندای عزیز (بانوی جشنواره) دتاشتین نمی دونم بطور نا خود آگاه ظاهرا به باخت اینجانب انجامیده شد این قضیه !!!
خلاصه پریروز بانوی جشنواره از نزدیک رویت شدند و بسیار نشاط رفت ...
---------------------
وای نازی جونم چه داستانی ..
این دست داستان ها من رو هم می خندونه و هم گریه می ندازه ...
آخه می دونی نوستالژیای این نوع داستان ها برای من خیلی زیاده ..
این شبیر عزیز هم با شعر زیبایی که گفته هر سنگی رو جادو می کنه چه برسه به من ..
خلاصه خیلی زیبا بود این داستان من رو برد به دوران دبیرستان و جو مدرسه و دوستان و دکترحسابی !!!

Anonymous said...

اووووووووو راستی نازی جونم من برات کلی عکس فرستادم ...
ببینی حتما و برام نظرت رو بنویسی
...
خوش باشی عزیزم

Anonymous said...

راستی عکست عالیه به من که حس خوبی داد ...
فکر کنم حس قدرت !!!

Unknown said...

Dear Nazy,
Your narrative is so intriguing.. the plot is so captivating and cliff-hanging...Such a beautiful English prose! To me , you are Persia's O Henry!!! Personally, I can't imagine it could be told in any better way.
What beats me or rather interests me more , though, is the characterization of the girl for who all that fight had been set up. She is so passive and reticent that she does not allow any personification of her character in the story! She is not even named! I understand her role in the story is limited , but in reality , The kind of discrimination practiced against women in Iran (as second class citizens)that we can observe in all spheres of our society has dramatically deprived our nation of a great necessary driving force in the process of development and progress. I think I had seen similar stories in FilmFarsis of pre-revolution times, but your theme and narration, Nazy jan, is so different and rich with fascinating details.. Thank you for taking the time to create such a highly readable and wonderful story.To give you an estimate of how precious your writing is, I feel I should have “paid” to read such a great story!!!

Anonymous said...

Kharej az shokhi
Nazy-e aziz man hamishe az daron va nakhod-agah moteasef misham vaghti dastan-haye tekariee az in dast ro mibinam ya mishnavam. Baram hamishe kheilli ta-amol bar-angize messle kheili chizaye dige.

Mamnon ke dasti az zendegito ba ghallame khobet neveshti inja.

Best regards

Anonymous said...

I loved this story. thanks for sharing.Each and every one of our thoughts, stories, actions, songs, videos are like seeds that contain many fruits. Keep on spreading your seeds, my beautiful Nazy.

Anonymous said...

oh that anonymous was me, Serendip.

Serendip

Nazy said...

Shobeir Jan:

Your story is so much better than mine! And you wrote poetry, too, which I wouldn't be able to do to save my life! You made me laugh Shobeir Jan. Thank you.

Nazy said...

Thank you Leila Jan! I'm so glad you enjoyed the story. How can stories of 16-17 year old kids have a happy ending other than experience? No meaningful and lasting "vasl" can happen at that age, so the best gain can only be experience to carry on with the business of life.

Take care my friend.

Nazy said...

Salam Ali Jan:

You honor me with your presence! Hee Hee, I think he deserved it, too, but quite possibly for reasons different than yours! You probably think because he wasn't strong enough to keep his friend's confidence and to carry the theatrics through. Right? I think he deserved it because he agreed to do something stupid!

Be ood Ali Jan, and thanks again for coming.

Nazy said...

Salam Nasim Jan:

Hee Hee, did you guys really expect to hear a love story? I gave ample clues in the earlier posts. I said it will be a "story of coming of age." Coming of age should remind us all of our mistakes and poor judgements and theatrics, which hopefully helped us to grow and to learn.

I hate playing games now. I tell it like it is. The reason I feel this way at my age is remembering how every game I ever saw played had a mildly bad to completely destructive impact on people's lives! I had to learn it the hard way, though.

Be good sweet Nasim.

Nazy said...

Amrikai Jan:

I think by now life has taught those boys a lesson or two! (As it has to the rest of us!).

I think the more mischievous our childhood, the richer our adulthood!

Thanks for visiting Amrikai Jan, my sweet friend.

Nazy said...

Alef Shin Jan:

Here we go with your brand of mystery and signs! You would have to explain this more to me for me to understand it! Yes, I was a part of Mehrdad's life with our simple friendship, but I wasn't in that story.

I really love the notion of playing the game without a ball! It's liberating to imagine it. But if I don't have a ball, I can't score a goal, either, can I? Sometimes it's really necessary to score a goal to become sure that we can!

I just love reading your comments, Alef Shin. You are amazing.

Nazy said...

Sweet Ehsan:

It was so good to see you and Maryam this past Friday.

Hee Hee, I'm so glad to have surprised you with the ending! Your surprise is a very big compliment for me! Thank you.

Nazy said...

Mina Jan:

You humble me with your generosity! I am delighted to know that you visit and you read my ramblings!

Is spring in full bloom in your parts yet? Ours has been around for several weeks now, complete with hay fever and allergies for all! I hope your everyday is full of blossoms and spring Mina Jan.

Nazy said...

Mana Joonam:

I'm glad you enjoyed it my friend! I miss you Mana.

Nazy said...

Salam Uni-Far Jan:

Thanks so much for sending me those breathtaking pictures of Taleghan, the sweet pictures of Mahshahr Fish Market, and the fun pictures of your celebration.

Thanks so much for coming to visit Farshad Jan. I'm glad you liked the story and the picture. You are so kind my friend.

Nazy said...

Sweet and Kind Mohammad:

You are so good to me, I don't know what to say!

You will have to remember my generational gap with you! Girls of my era were somewhat passive as compared to this day and age. There were standards of what a "decent" girl would or wouldn't do, which were observed quite closely. Breaking out of those molds made some of us the "black sheep" of the herd! The scene at Baghcheh Evin was a prime example of this. This was a coffee house in the heart of Vanak Village, which was definitely a well-preserved village up until a couple of decades ago, frequented only by local men, Vanaki men, during the day. For a girl to be out with a boy in that coffee house was not a very common occurence, but it didn't intimidate me. I rather enjoyed it, too!

I am proud of Iranian girls who speak their minds these days. The road to liberty passes through knowledge of self and self-expression.

Thanks again for your kind comment, Mohammad Jan. Please come again.

Nazy said...

Beautiful and Kind Serendip:

I have been so negligent of my comments this past week. I am so glad to see that you came. Thank you for your kind words my friend.

I'm getting ready to tell another story soon, this one a hard one to tell. I have attempted it several times and have not been able to finish it. Soon, I hope. Be good azizam.