UNFULFILLED- Thirteen-/////// The Twist

That fight did not end there. Later on, Jalal realized that his young wife had truly said those things about Neda. But now there was a life of a child involved. For the first time he was angry at Sima. Should he do to Sima what Mansour had done to his daughter? No, that was not in his character. Besides, even though he was really angry at Sima, and he knew that she had overstepped her boundary, he still loved her! How could he separate a mother and a child like Mansour had done?

Neda finished school and got her diploma. She knew that her Ariana was out there somewhere. Oh, what if she could see her, hug her, take her shopping, rain her with kisses, and hold her little hand! Despite all these desperate thoughts, when her first book was published, she felt a little glow in her life. The book got little praise and lots of criticism. Nonetheless, the sale of the book was great. Persian people always liked poetry in any from or shape. Her Ariana, whom the book was in her name, was a little over two years now; she, herself, a little short of nineteen. Sohrab was back from service. He had gone as a boy and returned as a man. Neda's only friend was still Maryam, her cousin. She was now officially a beautician. Now that she had a licence, she worked in a very modern beauty parlour; but her goal was that one day she would be able to open her own business.

Every time that the two cousins got together, they talked about getting their own place and leaving their parents. Living with their parents for both of them was despondency.

Maryam was the same age as Sohrab. Neda a Poet, Maryam a beautician! In people's eyes they had nothing in common, yet they were very close to each other! They both knew what they wanted in their lives. First, of course for both of them was being independent. Soon Sohrab joined them. He wanted to be liberated, too. He and Maryam were the same age. His joining in their quest for independence, in fact would help the two girls to convince their parents a lot better. Now it was three of them who wanted to be unchained from the rules of their fathers.

Sohrab agreed with everything that Neda said, specially the way their mother had turned out and was treated. The poor woman was so submissive, so desperate, so needy, that her children's talk and advice to her did not change the helpless woman. She had practically become the cook, the nanny, the maid, ... in that house of horror. Her wealth was gone, her beauty was vanished. At the age of forty two, she was all wrinkle and fright, all bones and skin. She had forgotten how to take care of herself. No more make up or going to the beauty salon for things that women do! They were all gone. Sima was doing those for the lord of the house. In her consternation, she had changed to a woman that even her children were not sure of her age anymore.

Neda read one of her poems that her mother's situation inspired her to write to her brother:

*

"Night and the silent fiction,

Full and gloomy with abstraction;

Miles of sky and forever alive;

Somber and wretched, always thrive.

The glowing man, and aging woman,

The weary lives, minds full of plan.

Big, empty homes, roads filled with frost;

Sunset that fades, dawn we can't trust;

Sky so eternal, full of offense,

Showing aging woman, nothing but suspense.

Youth had flamed like a wild thing.

It had bloomed like a rose of spring.

The wasteful youth, its harsh blow,

Or wild desire, with color like rainbow.

Now the old woman hums, hums with fright;

With a silent mouth in the dust of night."

*

The clock was ticking. Days were passing. Nights had stars and moons. Things to eyes, any eyes seemed normal except the eyes of the three young people yearning to part from their family and have their own little, but free lives. All three needed courage to break this unwritten law that the children, no matter their age, should live with their parents until they get married. But none of these three wanted to get married!

What Neda craved for was not the darkness made by enfolding arms of God, but was silence which was not solitude by compassion holding its breath. No longer she was content to feed upon opinion of others when her soul had invited the kind of liberation she longed for.

To Sohrab, this life was inferno of pain and smelled and sounded of rush, hurry, hurry...

For Maryam, every step she took from relieving herself from obligation, added to her strength and expansion as an individual. She began to see and apprehend the dwindling drift of life.

Therefor, when it came to decision making, it was a mutual three ways desire of a brother, sister, and their cousin. They announced it to their families after they rented an apartment with two bedroom, one for Sohrab, and one for Maryam and Neda. Neda now was twenty and Sohrab and Maryam were twenty four...

To Be Continued