A Memory in the Palm of My Hand

Roasted nuts (Ajeel) factory in Tabriz, Iran, March 31, 2008.
When I was a child, my father would sometimes take us to purchase party and entertainment staples. We would go to Shahreza Avenue (Enghelab), and buy pastries and sweets from Shahreza Bakery (Ghannadi-e-Shahreza). This shop later moved to Kakh Avenue (Felesteen), and Mr. Azarba's daughter, Shireen Khanoom, moved it to Jordan Boulevard first and then to Elahieh's Agha Bozorgi Street. Next to Shahreza bakery, there was a nut shop, called Ajeel-e-Fard-e-Shahreza. It was one of the most amazing places I have ever seen in my life. At any given hour of the day, when you went to the shop, they were roasting different kinds of nuts. I remember the bright lights hanging over basket after basket of dried fruit and nuts, lining the storefront. The shop's owners and help would greet you by dropping a handful of piping hot roasted pistachio nuts into the palm of your hand. They knew my father and treated him really well there, I guess, but I have a feeling they were equally generous to all their patrons.
It is rather strange. My childhood memories are full of loving and generous people, friends, neighbors, and shopkeepers. Heeh, the only people who continue to appear as utterly mean in my childhood memories are my teachers and school principles, especially the ones from elementary school! No amount of time seems to help me get over their poor and abusive treatment of their young charges! Anyhow, seeing this picture reminded me of so many of my good childhood memories. I know I'm divulging my age by the by, but I can't help it--nostalgia has a firm grip on me today!


Aida said...

Nazy Aziz,Glad you are fine hope everything is processing in the right way for you
Take care

Shobeir said...

Dear Nazy:
Whata tasty nostalgia! (bah bah!)

Esfand` said...

:) haha... funny to know about your teachers, n yes I was just wondering while reading through, about how easily and in such a beautiful way you can express your memories.
I can imagine my self visiting those places, so means your writing is strong!

You miss Iran I think :)

مسعود said...

سلام نازی خانم
یک کار جالبی چند سال پیش توی تهران انجام شد و از تلویزیون هم پخش شد،سالخوردگان شصت سال به بالا که سالیان دور در دبستانی درس خوانده بودند از دور ترین نقاط ایران و جهان جمع شدند و یاد آن ایام را گرامی داشتند.واقعا صحنه بسیار دیدنی ای بود. چه همتی بخرج داده بودند
تصور کن

bijan said...

This brings back some OLD memories of my mix gender elementary school in northern Tehran. It also has to do with the cruelty of the teaching staff, especially the female principle in charge. Actually all the staff was female. As far as I can remember, I was such cute and adorable kid, very popular among my classmates. First thing every morning, we lined up to sing the national anthem (Sorood Shahanshahi). Right after that it was time to give praises and dish out the punishments. Punishment usually consisted of receiving lashes and being struck several times on the palm of your hand with a long wooden ruler or a long stick just created for that purpose.
I can laugh about it now, but I can also remember the terror I felt as an 8 or 9 year old awaiting my turn. In the winters we believed if we rub our palms with orange peels it will hurt less! I don’t think we ever mentioned it our parents either. I guess we were afraid to get more scolding at home or were just plain embarrassed ;)

Nazy said...

Salam Aida Jan:

Thank you very much for your kind wishes. Everything goes in exactly the way it should! We must keep this in mind and do our best in whatever we do. That's what I do.

Thanks so much for coming to visit me again Aida Jan.

Nazy said...

Salam Shobeir Jan:

You are so skinny, you couldn't possibly be shekamoo--are you?! I am helpless when it comes to food and unfortunately, it shows!

I hope you are good Shobeir Jan.

Nazy said...

Salam Esfand Jan:

Thank you for your comment. YES! I miss Iran. I do! A lot!

Nazy said...

Salam Masoud Jan:

Yes, I think I remember reading about it and seeing some related pictures, too. In the US, class reunions happen all the time in high schools and colleges, where people go back to their schools 10, 20, and 30 years after they graduated. It is much harder to do in Iran, I suppose, because records are not kept up to date, and so many people have left Iran over the years. I know Sharif University alumni hold reunions in Iran, in Europe and in the US to get its alumni together. Whoever organizes those events has a lot of dedication (hemmat)!

Nazy said...

Bijan Jan, Salam:

I'm so glad you came back!

Your comment made me smile! I am sure you were a cute and adorable kid!

Your memories reminded me of mine! Yes, yes, the silly and cruel punishments we received were so inhumane. I, too, remember that once a month I was called up at the morning gathering to be handed a "kart afarin" for my scholastic achievements, and once a week I was called to the same spot to receive ruler beatings on the palm of my hands because I had been unruly! I wished I knew about the orange peel treatment back then!

Well, all is well that ends well, I suppose! We survived! I learned to kiss the hands of children as a result of my punishments, because children hold our future in their hands. When we lived in Tehran, I told my children that if ANYONE so much as touched them in a mean way at school, they were to tell me immediately! I was ferocious in meeting with teachers that had been abusive to my children, to say the least!

Thank you for sharing your memories with us. You're really very genrous with me. Thank you.