UNFULFILLED- Four-~<>~<~> Hesitation

She unexpectedly felt the elevation of this new world that had just opened its view to her. This ambiance was not like her former domain which was a suspicious one. This one was a world filled with uplifting and virtuous apparatuses.

She could think of her former life in a calm manner now. The love for Mansour that had seemed dead in recent days to her, recovered gradually. It rebounded and possessed her heart again. Now she was ready to go through it which was supposed to happen in two months right after finishing of her school year.

Overwhelmed with happiness, she left school and began running. She had time to walk, something so joyful to her, yet she wanted to run. She had another hour, enough time to walk more and to be at school on time. Nevertheless, the sudden delight, she suddenly realized, was more because of her pride than love. She was not aware of it yet; what she was conscious of was that she loved life, the life that used to crawl for her, now was flowing.

That evening when walking with Mansour in the garden, Neda thought about all her behavior of that morning. When making a turn to the bench, where the cherry tree had made a canopy of leaves over it, Mansour's arm brushed her. He understood what she was talking about was of the most importance to her. He was not very happy to notice that as she poured out her desires to him, she was discovering her own personality; something that frightened him- a woman with character. He was nervous and agitated, but his disturbance turned to an awe when he felt the icy and cold hand of Neda in his grip. He clasped her cold hand in his while his muscles spasmed. In the heat of that conversation, she tried to release her hand from his; but her effort for doing that remained vain, and her hand was his.

"You're tormenting yourself and annoying me with all these nonsense." Mansour said with an obvious displeasure. " I feel you even take pleasure in irritating me. Why can you be normal, just like other girls? Just go through life as it comes your way, as it happens!"

Neda suddenly released her hand from his grip; then faced him angrily while her eyes blazed.

"What is normal to you? If you're going to be my partner, why shouldn't I discuss with you what I think?"

"Why do you have to think all the time? Just live your life. None of these questions that your seeking answers for are new! People from the beginning of the time have asked them, even have suffered to find out the answer. Nobody knows the answers and they never will!"

"I didn't say that I know the answer." She retorted. "I may never do. But these thoughts occupy my mind; they ravage my heart to pieces."

"You're not even sixteen yet. I guess all these upheaval has something to do with your age and hormones, you be so young!" He forced a smile saying that.

"I may be young, but I'm not your typical high school girl. I know it; and knowing it gives me all these turbulence and commotion. I knew it long time ago. I know it now; and I am sure I feel the same in years to come. All these anguish I'm talking about had taken shape in me long ago. Within years, they've grown, they've become immense; and now, just recently they have borne fruit, resulting all these wild questions that exhaust me and now you. They inexorably demand of me for an answer, a solution. I can't help what I think or feel! I wish I was normal as you put it. I guess I'm not. This is a characteristic of a poet or a painter, or a musician, or any artist..."

Mansour did not respond at once. He was pondering over his own issues. He wondered if it was wise for him to marry a girl so much younger than him and so immature!

However Neda knew that all her ambiguity and strange behavior were not a new thing. Before today, even yesterday or last week, they seemed to be like a dream; but beginning this morning, they suddenly revealed themselves in this new and surprising shape that she did not know them even yesterday. All she understood, whatever it took, things should be different for her. They should change. She did not want the life of the ordinary women; but she did not know how she might be able to change it!

"You're not a genius!" Mansour said with an apparent exasperation. "You think you are a poet. Well, you're not in my opinion. You just write about what you see or feel at the time and call it a poem. Everybody can do that. Just give up these craps and be normal! You're driving me insane."

"I don't believe what you just said. If I am not a poet, how come they're publishing my work in a magazine?"

"Oh, that magazine! A stupid magazine for housewives..."

Neda got up and walked inside, actually towards the entrance of the house, yet she did not go inside. She looked like a woman without soul or spirit. She was oblivious and blind with rage. this morning she had come to resolution that she would marry Mansour; now she did not want to.

Not saying goodbye to her fiance that evening, she finally went inside, ran upstairs to her room, ignored her mom's imploring cry to eat dinner and to talk to her. After crying her heart out, when she felt a little better, and a little relaxed, she took a bath and went to bed. She locked the door from inside. She stayed up all night. She decided to break up her engagement the next day.

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Four- ^<>^<> Hesitation

Neda recalled a conversation she had had with her father immediately after his marriage to Sima. She was never afraid of her father. She told him:

"I had so much respect for you before; now it's all contempt. I respect your past; I despise your present!"

Her father, Jalal, answered with a faint smile:

"What you're saying is very far from my feeling and my intent."

Thinking about all these, especially her mother and father, she said to herself:

"If marriage causes lack of individuality and compassion, why am I getting married?"

Yet, she was certain that she would go through it. She needed to get out of this house; and for now marriage was the only road to freedom!

The recollection of all these was very vivid in her mind. It was bright the night before in the twilight, it was lucid when first she woke up and saw dawn. Life was cruel from what she had seen so far and from what she noticed now and everywhere and all the time. This knowledge that she had acquired since her mother's visit the night before was fatal; nonetheless, seemed enchanting. It would be now more lethal even though its mystery made things charming , yet mystifying.

Coming to this conclusion, Neda left home for school without saying good bye to her mother, who was walking in the yard like a stray dog, or having breakfast. Instead of going her normal way to school, she kept walking without an aim. She walked out of her way intentionally, thinking. She knew she would not be late to school since she had left home a couple of hours earlier than everyday. She had to solve many things in her mind. The best way she used to resolve her problems and find the answer was always walking for her. As she walked in the misty air, unexpectedly she realized that there was no point to question herself for all these enigmatic problems that were occupying her mind. To come to that view point was like a shocking finality. As she turned to the street, where her school was, she remembered that she had not said good bye to her mother, who had watched her leaving house in a hurry. At that moment her mother had stood in the middle of the yard under the cherry tree. Now she recalled that her mother had a frozen look on her face; perhaps because she had thought that she was abandoned by everyone.

All these, she just now visualized that had happened many times besides this morning since all these turmoils in their lives had started. She knew her action had been one of ignorance and intolerance so far towards everyone even her poor mother. Now in the yard of school, she pictured her own attitude regarding this new situation, one of the slow endurance and acceptance. Disdain was melting away with her indisputable present.

Family life, all aspects of it, in a picturesque way, came to her vision. her own future family life demonstrated itself to her fancy in a disconnected way. Deep in her heart, she felt that all these issues were resolving, clarifying, and relaxing themselves. She had been apprehensive to study this puzzle before. Formerly she could not think and conjecture how others around her thought and believed. That mental exercise had been strange to her before; but now she understood them better.

She recalled a poem which was among ones to be published. She had called it "IF I WAS FALL". For no apparent reason, standing in the school yard, still being the only student at school, since she had left home so early, she recited that poem to herself:

"Oh, I wish I was fall.

I would be silent, sad and dull.

The leaves of my dream would turn yellow one by one;

Coldness would become to my eyes' sun.

The sky of my heart would fill with pain.

The storm of sorrow in my chest remain;

And like rain, my salty tears gush

To paint my face to color of blush.

Oh, how nice it would be if I was fall;

I would be wild, exciting, colorful, all.

Ahead of me

Would be bitter face of winter dree.

Behind me

was the thrill of sudden summer love and glee;

When in my heart,

Pain, sadness, suspicion took part.

Oh, I wish I was fall."

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED-Four- The Hesitation

Still being in the street with all those military tanks and trucks and men wearing stolen fatigues, carrying Uzis and Kalashnikov; women wearing full hejab (covering themselves); some black chador, some long, loose coats with big scarves covering their head; some carrying their babies in their arms, some in their backs, while holding the hands of their toddlers so they would not lose them, Neda was trying very hard to get to the other side of the street where there were less crowd. She was in the street, almost in the same spot for four hours when she had a chance to look at her watch. A long time had passed since her appointed time to see her Arianna for the first time after all these devastating nineteen years.

She recalled the phone conversation. She had a hard time to believe the woman on the other side of the line was truly her daughter. She had called her "Neda". "Can I speak with Neda?" That was how she had started. Later in conversation, not even once, she had called her mom. In fact she had called her nothing.

"Can I speak with Neda?"

"This is she." Neda had answered.

Then there was a pause, almost too long of a pause; but Neda did not hang up the phone. As famous as she was, she always would get prank calls; but for some reason she did not think this was a phony call. For some strange reason her heart was beating violently, as though she knew. Finally the heavy breathing from the other side stopped and she heard the magical words:

"I'm Arianna!"

Neda held the edge of the table so as not to fall. Her knee buckled. Her heart pounded. beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. There was no chair around. Before falling, she managed to sit on the floor almost unable to talk. This time the pause was even longer than Arianna's suspension could endure. Finally Neda gathered all her strength and said:

"Arianna, is that really you?!"

"yes!"

"Is that really you?" She said it again this time crying, growing suddenly animated.

"Yes, yes, it's me. I'm leaving Iran. I tell you when I see you how I found you." Arianna's voice trembled with emotion. A long silence ensued. Neda felt tormented and oppressed.

"How can you leave? Airports are closed!"

"We found a smuggler. I don't want to stay here. This is not my country anymore!"

Neda shuddered and went as white as a corpse.

"I don't blame you! Did you know that I am your mother?"

"No, my mom and dad never told me about you!"

Now she was crying hysterically. Neda could hear her weeping. Her eyes widened and she exhaled a soft stream of grieving.

"How did you find about me?" Neda was finally able to bring out those words from her mouth.

"It is a long story. I want to see you before I leave. My dad doesn't know that I'm contacting you and I want to see you! But my mom knows."

"Can you just tell me some thing? Are you blaming me for this?"

Again there was a long delay. Her silence was painful

"No, I don't blame you. I love your poetry. A lot of times, since I found out, I feel you're writing about me. I write poetry, too, but nothing like yours. My dad makes fun of me. I guess he made fun of you, too. Sometimes ago a friend of mine and I were reading your biography in the back jacket of one of your book. My friend, out of blue, told me how I look like you." She stopped at this point, breathing heavily.

Neda was shaking all over. Kasra came to the room and found her on the floor, looking like a dead person. He questioned her with his eyes. She waved her hands for him to leave her; but he stayed. Neda did not object it. He could hear the conversation , since Neda switched to the speaker phone. She finally asked Arianna:

"How did you connect the missing parts?"

"That evening I told my mom and dad about what my friend had told me. They both went as white as a sheet. They stayed speechless. Then I knew. I demanded the truth. My dad told me about the short marriage he had with you!" Arianna said these as if to her self. Neda cried convulsively. "So she looks like me! She likes poetry!" She said those in her speaking mind.

"Are you there?" Arianna asked her.

"Yes, I am." Neda's answer was inaudible. What Arianna could hear was her crying.

"Please don't cry. I want to see you before leaving."

Neda gathered the last energy that she could find and said:

"When are you leaving?"

"I think next week! It depends to the smuggler..."

"One week!"

"Yes, may be even less..."

Neda began crying again.

"Please come tomorrow. I want to see you. May we smuggle together. Come to my friend's home, Roya. I don't want my father to know about this. My mom knows, but she promised that she won't say anything to my dad."

"Smuggle together?!" Neda fainted at this point. Kasra, who by now knew what was going on, took the phone and talked to Arianna. He got the address and telephone number of her friend, Roya; where mother and daughter would meet for the first time the next day.

To Be Continued