Days followed nights. Sohrab and Maryam came to Ned'a apartment often in the evening. Neda had turned out to be a good cook. Kasra, her editor, was almost always there for dinner. He had become very close to all of them. Nobody knew about him much, his back ground, his education, if he had any sisters or brothers, his parents, and how he had landed this position as an editor. His friendship with Neda was more than editor and a client. Some nights that was real late, Kasra stayed and slept in Sohrab's old room.They had no intimacy. They would if they wanted to, but they did not. He even did grocery shopping for Neda in the morning on his way, without even asking her. He knew exactly what she needed.
One evening when Neda saw Maryam so happy in her little life and big marriage, she laughingly said:
"What happened Maryam? I thought you never wanted to get married!" Neda had this blushing like a rose of spring on her cheek.
Maryam took Neda's statement seriously and began defending herself:
"I don't know! I thought so, too! But when I got to know Sohrab, how could I not love him, marry him? He is the best!"
Sohrab waved his hands with a loud laughter to show that he was not the best. Maryam continued without hesitation:
"What about you and Kasra? Are you two...?"
Neda cut her off before she was able to finish:
"No, no, we're just friends, aren't we Kasra? He is so invaluable to me. I need his help. He is very good in editing all my mistakes and organizing my writings." She looked at Kasra for affirmation.
"She is right! We are not made for marriage. We can be together from now to eternity and not be married." He paused for a moment, had a sip of his wine, and then continued:
"You know better than me that Neda has broken all the rules of this country for women specially at such a young age. Women are envious to her, and men are afraid that she may start a wave of young women craving freedom and wanting to follow her footstep, that among all her fans, she has also have many enemies. That is why her publisher admire her so much that he has assigned me only to her work; because controversy sells. I don't think she cares one way or the other, what people, even her own family think or say about her. She does what she wants as long as she can create; and if a day comes that she can't create, then it doesn't matter anymore." Kasra widened his eyes and exhaled a soft stream of admiration for his boss and friend. Sohrab's face wreathed in a big smile:
"That is my little sis all right. I knew it from beginning, from the time that she was a little girl! I even remember that our father once said, before Sima came to the scene, that Neda would be a big writer one day!" They all laughed or did the act of laughing!
There were days that Neda was happy without knowing why. She was delighted to be alone and breathing; she was ecstatic when her whole being was one with sunlight, the colors, the fragrance, the copious warmth of a sunny day. Days like these, she wondered alone into a strange and unfamiliar places. She would find many sunny, sleepy, little corners, shops, cafes, so perfect to dream, to be alone, and unmolested. She wrote the "SUN OF TOMORROW" on a piece of napkin in a cafe that she was drinking tea, and smoking, in one of these escaping deviation.
★
The color of dusk wraps around sun.
A lonely tree in the vast lawn
Craves water and finds none.
◆ From the gloomy sky, flees light
Towards the far horizon with spite.
Rain of light pours from red tulip of night
● To a silent humming, cities retire.
On the roof of sky, stars inspire.
The wine of moonlight I desire.
■ It is midnight and a cloud in a vast sky
abuses the moon with its threat and sigh;
And the old crow mocks beautiful butterfly.
〓 In the bosom of this night, I get a surprise,
The glow of your eyes becomes my prize;
Like the sun of tomorrow that I never despise,
★
After every one was gone, almost always, when she was not in high spirit, she felt depressed rather than soothed. She would lie down in the bathtub with her cigarette and glass of wine thinking, or sometimes even dozing. The little glimpse of domestic harmony which had been hers for a few hours gave her no regret, no longing. It was not the condition of her life that shockingly elevated her, when she could see in her life but an alarming and hopeless weariness.
To Be Continued
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