Saturday, October 30, 2010

Odyssey... ~~24- Ambiguous Soul

Tehran-
Hana's pain that night was intolerable. It was not only the insufferable pain of Hamid's unabashed torture that tormented her with and excruciating agony, but also an even more unbearable bitterness for her weak personality to endure these physical and mental abuse. Lying down ob bed that used to belong to her father across the room where her mother was fighting for her last breaths on her bed, she thought of the unfairness of the world and misery of most Iranian woman, whom mostly even did not know any better. Crying calmly for her cursed fortune, she did not not know how it was possible for a human being to live like her, in that kind of abuse! She could not perhaps tolerate another assault of Hamid; but had not she felt the same every night? She knew in desperation that there would be more assaults from now to the time of her death. How could Hamid put her through that pain? How could anybody cause that kind of anguish for others? She had exasperated over Hamid's obscenity for so long that now she felt so tired that a one night sleep seemed like a sweet dream to her; nonetheless, she purposely forced her eyes to stay open to see the misery not the dream. If someone asked her at that moment why she would not make a scene or scream when Hamid assaulted her, her answer perhaps would be that she did not want anyone in the house to know about her misery.
Gol, on her bed, gained her sanity for the last time to sense her daughter's anguish in that room. She also felt a sudden pain in her chest which numbed her body. Fighting for her life, she tried to move her hands or scream for help, but she could do none of those. In desperation, she looked at her daughter and hoped that she might see her struggle for life, but Hana was so captivated in her own suffering that surprisingly her intuition did not suspect the happening of a greater magnitude and disaster in that room only a few meters from her. All Hana could hear was her mother's regular breathing which did not concern her. To her, at that moment, her mother always breathed like that.
When the next morning, Hana found her mother dead, she recalled her mom's unusual breathing. Also she remembered her neglect of getting up and checking on her, as she had always done. Even though the Medico legal Examiner called the cause of death a fatal heart attack, Hana made herself to believe if she was not ignorant that night, her mother could have been saved and still would be alive. Since that atrocious night, Hana had something new to feel guilty about and to let it not go away.
Dallas-
When Sam leaves for his advanced training, both he and Hana know that he will be transferred to another state afterwards. He will be trained for the next eight weeks for what he likes the best, infantry. While his leaving home for the second time is easier for Hana, it is also like a mystery to her. When she tries to think about Sam, his decision, and his different attitude, the chain of her thoughts scatter like autumn leaves in a windy day.
Since working in Dallas for her is only doing a job to survive, school becomes Hana's greatest joy and entertainment. Amazingly she discovers that Valery, her classmate, has an illegitimate son, eight years old, whom she is the only supporter and provider. Listening to Valery's emotional and financial problems opens Hana's eyes that even in America many women are oppressed, tormented, and abused by the opposite sex. Valery is in the constant battle with the father of her son for child support or maybe a little fatherly attention. The more Hana talks to people, the more she finds out what she has called her bad fortune is a common occurrence of life no matter where the person is born. Wondrously she meets some men who are abused by women. At this point, she changes her life long statement that has been part of her belief that in Iran most women are abused while most men are abusers. Whereas in American society, she adds to her narrative, that many men and women are oppressed interchangeably. She learns more about American culture and people at school than she has learned since they have immigrated.

To Be Continued

No comments:

Post a Comment