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!

A Very Good Friday

Folk dance of Azerbaijan (Lezgi). These dancers might be from Georgia (Gorjestan).

It's Good Friday, the Friday before Easter, spring has begun, and Nowrooz is here. It can't get any better than this. I sat out a Nowrooz celebration in San Francisco, as I recover from too much celebration this week! I decided instead to come home, cook for my family, write my Friday post, and tend to some activities I must finish before Sunday.

The boys and their friends have just returned from a basketball game and work and will probably be getting ready to go out a little later. I hear them laughing and talking in the other room. There is something very soothing in hearing the young men have such a good time together in this house. Come September, my older son will probably move to another college town to attend university, and things won't be the same again in this house. I intend to enjoy every moment of the remaining months around them. Some day I might tell you the story of me and my children and houses, houses, and houses. Telling that story requires some courage which I have yet to find. Some day I might tell it.

And so, of all times of the year, this is the easiest and hardest time to dispense advice to you all about relationships and love for those who are important in your lives. It is easy, because for most of you those you love are right next to you during the celebrations, or you would be visiting them. It is hard, because some of you don't have your loved ones near you. Holidays and traditional celebrations are really hard for those who live away from their families, and I say that from peronal experience. So, I think we should all reach out to those near us right now, whoever they are and however they are important and related to us. Friends, relatives, lovers, and neighbors, there are people around us who could really appreciate a hug, a handshake, a smile, a kiss, or a hug. Whatever you do, mean it. Do it from the bottom of your heart with optimism and peace in mind. Call those who are away and in addition to wishing them a happy Nowrooz, also tell them that you love them and mean it. Do it with the conviction of someone who has started a New Day, a Now Rooz. Have a good weekend y'all.

Kuchalara Su Sapmisham

A young Rashid Behbudov performs Kuchalara Su Sapmisham.

I grew up listening to Rashid Behbudov. He was an Azarbaijani musician with a heavenly voice. Iranians loved Rashid Behbudov, and he loved Iran and Iranians, traveling to Iran frequently, and even singing some Farsi songs. Though I don't speak Azari, there is something about the music, language, and people of Azarbaijan which tugs at my heart, and fills me with love and respect for them. I have countless Azarbaijani friends, some of whom in sheer moments of friendship and kindness to me, have pronounced me an "Honorary Azarbaijani!" I can't get enough of their music. I am listening to a wide variety of old and new Azarbaijani music these days, all of which are beautiful and worthy of sharing with you. I think it appropriate, however, to share this beautiful love song by the old master, Rashid Behbudov, with you. In this song, he talks about sweeping the street, setting up the samavar, and putting sugar in his lover's tea cup, in anticipation of her arrival! I think it is one of the most touching songs I have ever heard. I want to give this song to Marjan, who is a young Azari with a heart of gold, full of love and anticipation these days. Yashasin Azarbaijan!

P.S. Thanks to Bayram, here's the Farsi translation of a piece of the lyrics. See how sweet it is:

کوچه را آبپاشی کردم تا زمان آمدن یار گردوخاک نباشه... جوری بیاید و جوری برود که در میانمان حرفی نباشد... سماور را آتش کردم و در استکان قند انداختم... یارم رفته تنها مانده ام... چه شیرین است یار... چه عزیز است یار

And I fixed the song name to Kuchalara, based on Neda's recommendation (see Comments). If I still have it wrong, please do let me know.