Thursday, April 28, 2011

UNFULFILLED- Five<><>The Wedding


They had decorated the garden for reception. Chairs and tables were rented. All tables had white table clothe, a vase of flower on them, and could sit six people. It kind of reminded Neda of a fancy restaurant. However the food, since there were so many different type of them, were served in a buffet style for the guests. Father had hired an orchestra to play Persian music, the type that were proper for dancing. He had thrown the biggest wedding for his daughter as far as the guests concerned.
Neda remembered that first she had danced with her father; then Sohrab, her brother came and took her away from her father and danced with her. Neda smelled alcohol in her brother's breath; but she was enjoying so much to be close to her brother that she did not bother to ask him. She guessed that they were serving alcohol somewhere for men. Women were not supposed to drink. While her head was on her brother shoulder and he was carrying her to the sky, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Mansour. "It is my turn!" For some odd reason she did not want to dance with her new husband, anybody but him. However to respond to the guest's clapping and hurry, she began dancing with Mansour. People throwing "Noghl" on her head. "More, more". Some people were dancing by themselves; some in a group, It was apparent that everybody had a good time. She slowly left the dance scene. Her high hill was killing her. Her heel caught the bottom of her dress and made big hole in the back of her heavy gown. She sat on the bench under the cherry tree. She was looking around. She could not believe that her aunt Zari was dancing. Her father and Sima dancing in a corner to a disco type music, but their dance was a close romantic one. She learned so much about her family by the way they were dancing that she could not have learned it by talking to them. Her mother was running the show; to make sure there were enough chicken or kabob, or ghormeh sabsi on the food table. She could not see Maryam. "Where is she?" Sohrab came and asked her to dance. "No, I'm tired." Mansour never again asked her for dance. But it was obvious he had a good time. He was right in the middle and dancing the night away.
Night had already fallen; but they had so many strings of lights amongst the tree branches and around the building that the garden looked like day, except when Neda looked at sky. It was becoming too black, too dull. She was very tired. She thought about everything that happened that day, from early morning to now. She wished she could sneak into the building, go to her room and shower and change. She wanted to wash out the trace of the Wig woman from herself. She looked again at the black sky. "Too dark!" Even those beads of shinning stars that had always inspired her to write, now were ashen and colorless. Why was it that this afternoon people had not left her alone for a minute to breathe; and now nobody even noticed that this whole thing was because of her and nobody paid attention to her.
Then the guests began leaving. If it was not for their children strewn here and there, nagging, complaining, sleeping, perhaps they did not want to leave. They did not know when would be the next time that they could have such a good time. She saw, a husband and wife fighting. She heard the wife: "All night you're dancing with different women!" She was tired of standing, now Mansour next to her, shaking hands and hugging and kissing people good byes. "We really had a good time!" All those phony congratulations, all those fake talking, words that had no true meanings, gestures that were artificial!
She felt like she was in another planet, far from all these people, in some unattainable place. She had to come back to earth painstakingly every minute so her unreachable attitude would not offend people who were saying goodbyes to her, so she appeared not courteous.
Suddenly she recalled another shocking reality about all these chaos. As it was customary, a woman relative, in her case Aunt Zari, Maryam's mom, was supposed to go with them to their new apartment and sleep in there, somewhere; and wait for Mansour to bring out the white handkerchief, embroidered, ironed, which had Neda's virginity blood on it. She remembered her argument with her mother over this issue. At the end, her mother's teary eyes had made her to give in. Oh, all these terrible things that women had to go through. She wished she was never born or at least she was born in a different, civilized country, or perhaps she was born a boy.
Suddenly something flashed din her mind. "I talk to Mansour before leaving. But he was gone. There were a lot less people now in the garden. He was no where to be found. She looked everywhere. She went upstairs to go to her room and change clothes. She heard men voices were coming from her father's study. Without knocking, she opened the door and went in. Her father, Sohrab, Mansour, her uncles, and a few close friends were all there. They were all drinking vodka. She had never known that her father or those other men drank! All were startled by her entering the room. Father, shocked, was the one who spoke:
"It is you, honey! What do you want?"
She could not speak. She could not move. The thought of having a drunk man in bed with her ruined completely the little joy she had of being married. Every one looked at her. They all saw the awe on her face. Finally Mansour walked to her and asked her in a very gentle fashion, yet drunk:
"Do you need to talk to me?"
"Yes!" She sighed.
They left the room and went downstairs, and then straight to the garden. She sat on the bench. Mansour put his arm around her and his other hand on her tight. He began rubbing her legs. She removed his hand angrily.
"Listen, you're my wife now!"
"I don't care. I didn't know you drink!"
"There is nothing wrong with occasional drinking. Your father and your brother were drinking, too."
"I don't care if they were drinking. I don't have to sleep with them. You've never told me."
"I don't have to tell you everything. Men drink sometimes. Your father invited us to his room." He removed his arm that was on her shoulder. Then faced her.
"What did you want? You were looking for me!"
Neda could not remember why she was looking for him. She had to think hard. But what came to her mind was Mansour's change of attitude. He was not the same as yesterday or even that afternoon, before they officially became husband and wife. She thought to herself:
"Now I see the real him. He was acting all these times!"
"I don't want to go with you tonight to the apartment." She managed to say. Not only that she had forgotten that her aunt Zari coming with them was the reason she had looked for him, but at this point, she just did not want to be married at all. Dreams of her being a famous poet one day seemed dashed in just the last few hours. She imagined herself like her mother or her aunt. She saw herself cooking, taking care of babies, and obeying Mansour. This was not what she had thought of marriage. She felt the price she was paying to get away from this house was much weightier one. She suddenly saw a gulf between herself and this man. She saw this gulf as a barrier, an unmovable mountain between them which made them to never agree with each other, to never speak with each other or communicate in a friendly manner. And wasn't it best not to speak to such man at all?
She knew by admitting these new thoughts to Mansour, their relationship, if there was any, would never be the same, before even they would start. To realize her new, which in fact was not new, feelings that were just came to being in her uproarious soul was more painful than a physical blow. Yet she knew and was certain that these sensations belonged to the true part of her which now quickly would be smothered by the cruelty of life, the life she had chosen.
All part of her body ache and resulted her a tremendous horror. Memories, past life, thoughts, and feelings within her stirred in this new aversion and she practically twisted in pain. Tears rushed down her face. She covered her face with both hands. She was mourning the death of her life, her childhood, her...
"If I only had a wing,
I could fly out from this unearthly sight.
If I knew how to sing,
I could enchant a song on the height.
If I only had the God's ring,
I could bring green breeze into spring.
But all I still know is wondering."

To Be Continued

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