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.