Neda's editor, Kasra, an attractive, young man, about thirty, came to her apartment almost everyday. Neda's writing like her mind and soul was scattered and all over the place. sometimes she wrote at the side border of a book she was reading. Kasra was the one worked with her on her dispersed, and dispelled writings for hours, which soon they would become manuscripts. Neda returned the favor by asking him to stay for dinner. Evening meals were not only food for nourishment, but it was getting together of all these young people after a day of work to talk with each other, to have a little laugh, or drink wine, a glass or two. When the evening meal was over and everyone was done with his or her work, mostly they sat around and talked about Neda's success at such a young age. Kasra told them how the publishing world worked. He told them the publishers were all business men. They were after making money. For them, there was no place for a really good writer that nobody would read her or his writing; even though Neda was not only among the good writers but people bought her books.
"There are a lot of good books that never are published." He would say to them.
With all the rumors and controversies that surrounding Neda's personal life, they kept publishing her books as long as she would attract people's curiosity. Kasra everyday brought with him the cut off pieces of newspapers, magazines, or literary journals that had said something about Neda. Those pieces were mostly untrue things about her life, not her poems. Sometimes they all laughed of so many untrue events that people had sworn to seen about Neda. Like this woman, who wrote a lot, was saying that she knew where Neda was meeting her secret lover. However every so often Kasra would find some nice thing about her. Neda started a journal. She glued all these cut off articles about her in that book, good or bad; and she arranged them by date not by their nastiness. Everyone was surprised that she was not offended what people told about her. Those passages that people had written about her were important to her for the sake of history. As young as she was, she knew that she would be a part of future history of Persian poets, a book that was not written yet! That was why she made that journal. They were not important to her for their contents. One evening she told the other three:
"I don't care what they say about me; as long as they read my poems, I am happy."
Maryam and Sohrab always laughed when Neda talked like this and told her that her life experience which had practically started at age fifteen, had made her skin thick.
Neda and Sohrab had not seen their father for two years now, They had not seen Sima or their little half sister, Mina, either. Their mother, Mehri, and Maryam's mother, Zari, now would come only once a week and always together. Every thing was normal in the sense of what normalcy was in Neda's view. A conformity that had had a big price for Neda. She had paid dearly to be where she was while she could had had this without marriage and a baby.
Then it came an evening that Maryam and Sohrab got engaged. Kasra, Neda's editor was there, too, for the party. He brought flowers for Maryam and cut off piece of article for Neda. They were also were celebrating Sohrab's graduation for the two years college. Neda made a cake; it was much harder than she had thought. By now she had mastered the art of cooking, but this was the first time she made a cake. The cake broke in several places when she was taking it out to put in a dish she wanted to serve. She patched the cake with the icing and fresh fruits.
Neda gave money to Sohrab so he could buy a ring for Maryam. They had all become very straight forward people. They never hold anything back. They said what it was in their minds. While cutting the cake, kasra unexpectedly said:
"I read this article that in Western countries, cousins don't get married. It says because of their blood line, it is not good for cousins to have children." He was blunt, especially now when they were celebrating the cousins' engagement. Neda thought it was tackles of Kasra to say such a thing at such an evening.
"I've heard it, too." Sohrab began. "You know here in our country, cousins have gotten married for ever; and frankly I don't care. I have yet to see a deformed child because of the marriage of two cousins!"
"Just thought to tell you what I've read." Kasra answered as if to himself.
"Enough Kasra!" Neda finished the subject and poured more wine in every one's glasses. She picked up hers and made a toast:
"To Sohrab and Maryam, and let's their disagreements wouldn't be so much!" Every one laughed, and sipped their wine.
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To Be Continued
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