Odyssey... 31- Prosperity

The sky today is blue with some light cloud layers far in horizon. At last the restless nature has come to peace with itself. The cold November suns tingles every cell of obstinate Hana, and she finally accepts her contented mood. Walking in the park across from her apartment with her heavy, wool sweater, it took her a whole year to finish knitting it, she breaths the cold, pleasant breeze. As a circle of fog comes out of her mouth, she wonders if it is the smoke of her cigarette or the vapor of her breathing the cold air and exhaling the steam. The last of tree leaves are falling on earth, as their stems can not hold them any longer. Walking on the dry, colorful leaves, she yearns to hear their breakage; however, the wet soil has moistened them and they do not break.

She recalls the fall in her home town, where she was born. The leaves always broke when she walked on them whether the earth was wet or not. Conjuring up the M. Street, where her beloved house was located, she remembers the apartment building which was supposed to replace that holy place which her precious grandfather had built and given to her mother. She recalls the days her parents sold that house which she did not know the reason for it at that time. Now she knows because of their growing family, they needed more space, a bigger house. They used the money from sale of that house as down payment for a bigger house in that dead end alley. How badly she wanted to buy that house back when she was a grown woman; but nothing went as she had planned. This park, somehow, reminds her of the cemetery which has enveloped her parents, Van in unknown grave, Saied, unknown grave to her, grandparents, and most definitely Behroz. She wonders if there is life after death, where bodies carry the souls and spirits of the people she loved so much.

It is Sunday, a day of rest, peace, and getting close to nature, as for some people is the day of praying in the churches, a man made building. She marvels why people have to pray or glorify their creator under a man- made roof they have built not under the sky their deity has sculptured. She has never felt close to her maker under a roof; nevertheless, out here, where she can breathe, observe, and watch the harmonious nature, whether cold or hot, rainy or sunny, she realizes that no man can compose such a beauty, when everything works together spontaneously, where no machines or computers can program an identical setting. She is contented for after a long vagrancy about her belief, she has finally chosen a path that her grandfather secretly believed (in the fear of the fanatic culture of Islam), nature.

Being born from a Muslim parents, she has never believed in that religion. As she tried church and Christianity by going to church with Valery, her friend, a handful of times, she could not accept that either, for all religions to her were originated from a same root. She does not need a Preacher or Molla (Muslim preacher) to tell her how to behave or act. That is the job of her conscience.

As she remembers the two blissful phone calls this morning, she knows that her feeling at that moment is a holy one for she is deeply happy for Valery and her new life and marriage, not envious; and for she is speechlessly blissful for Sam's arrival to his destination. She is confident as a mother, she has been a good one and has done a good job raising her sons, something she has always doubted before.That is why she worships the nature today, where she can be at ease and find a solution to all her confusion. Now she understands her beloved grandfather perfectly.

To Be Continued