A story

[Gaines]

I was recently reminded of a story from my childhood and though some of you might enjoy it. Please note that this is a true story. Any resemblance to anyone in Iran or outside is coincidental. In the off chance, that someone has heard this story from others, please do not ruin the ending.

When I was growing up, we had a distant relative in what at the time seemed to be in a remote corner of Tehran. Later on, I realized it was somewhere in the Southeast of the city. Like everyone else in Iran, we used to visit just about all the relatives at New Year. Given that he was not very close, we would visit him on the 3[SUP]rd[/SUP] or 4[SUP]th[/SUP] day. We also visited him and his young family may once or twice a year for other occasions.

My earliest visit that I remember was when I was about 8 or 9. We called him Daei Hamid, though he was really a second or third cousin of my Dad. I remember we had just concluded our visit to his house, all dressed up in our shiny new year’s clothes. Like most houses at that time, the door of the house would open to a small yard. So we were in the yard saying our goodbyes about to leave the house. As usual, and to the kid’s dismay, the goodbye section of the visit would drag on and on, sometimes longer than the visit itself. It seemed that all of a sudden, everyone remembered all these things they had forgotten to say when sitting in the house. I was anxiously waiting to get out to go back to our home. The new year break, and the 13 days of holidays, was a precious gift that was not to be wasted listening to adult’s chit chat. I and the neighborhood kids had already planned a few soccer games to be played in our alley. Time was of the essence for me to make the games.

So finally my dad opened the front door and stepped out. It was a hallelujah moment. I stepped right out too before someone decided to continue chatting. My big brother, who had plans of his own, also quickly followed. Daei Hamid, also followed us out, as it was the custom to see us to our car. However, as soon as he stepped out, he grabbed my Dad’s hand and pulled him right back in. His 5 year old also started screaming, “khatar, khatar”, kind of like that space show on TV which was called “Kahkeshan” in farsi. Daei Hamid screamed for us to also get inside, his face bulging with fear and anxiety.

to be continued......

 

[Gaines]

The small neighborhood they lived in was called East-Gah. It was mostly a middle class to lower middle class neighborhood. There was a mix of really old house, empty plots, and some newer plots. The neighborhood had clear boundaries. There was a small grass circle in the middle, bounded on four sides by major streets and a small mosque. On this Meydoon, there was a bakery, a small “baghali”, a shoe repair shop, and a couple of other small businesses. Most of the owners lived on the same premise as the business or upstairs from it.

Daei Hamid was only 25. He seemed really old to me, but now I realize, he was a very young guy. He had bought this house the summer before, with a bit of help from family members, and some sort of a loan the government was giving out. Though he had essentials of life, he did not have much money to spare. He was a teacher at a local school, reasonably educated, and was considered modern-thinking by the standards of that time. Of course, none of that mattered to me at the time. He was a relative whom we visited occasionally. He did not have kids of my age, so overall, these visits were not the highlights of my life.

When he visited us, he mostly sat in the living room sipping tea and talking with my Dad. I never bothered to sit and listen to what they said when he was visiting us. But when we visited him, there was not much to do but sit there still. I remember he used to admonish my dad to quit smoking, telling him it is really bad for him. My Dad would usually brush him off, saying he planned to at some point, but not quite yet.
When he bought his house, as was the custom, we went to visit him and bring him a house-warming gift. I remember the gif was a Toshiba rice cooker which the wife seemed to appreciate. I still remember parts of the commercials for that rice cooker. I am sure some of you do too. The commercial was about a young “dame-bakht” girl, singing with his Mom about all the things the Toshiba will do.

As we were sitting there, with me wishing the visit to be over as soon as possible, I heard him tell my dad about the neighborhood he had just moved into. He was recounting all the tension in the neighborhood. He was one of the better educated residents and the local mosque mullah wanted him to involve him more in the ceremonies. There were the newer residents who despised the older residents because they did not take care of the neighborhood as well as they should have, with dumping garbage here and there. The older residents despised the newer one thinking that they are too uppity. There was also a running feud between the Baggal and the baker. The origins of the feud were lost on him, but he said it was a fixture of the daily life in the neighborhood.

Both the baggal and the baker were united in one cause only and that was to stop the kids from playing soccer in the little grass patch in the middle of the circle or anywhere else for that matter.

So when we visited him on the first NoRooz in his new house, it was with this background going on. And when he yelled and screamed for us to get back in, the look of fear in his face, the panic in the voice of his 5 year old, I thought we were about to get killed or something.

To be continued.....

 

[AFRIRAN]

Another to be continued story... board getting interesting more and more by day...

خونون داستان دنباله دار فارسی به زبون اینگیلیسی ... خیلی آدم باس بیکار باشه به مولا

 

[Gaines]

Another to be continued story... board getting interesting more and more by day...

خونون داستان دنباله دار فارسی به زبون اینگیلیسی ... خیلی آدم باس بیکار باشه به مولا

Doost Aziz

Nobody is forcing you to read this. You do realize that, don't you? Of course, I encourage you to read. You may get some life lessons, or it get lost on you. Who kows...

 

[AFRIRAN]

Doost Aziz

Nobody is forcing you to read this. You do realize that, don't you? Of course, I encourage you to read. You may get some life lessons, or it get lost on you. Who kows...

هی ... ما خطابمون به شوما نبود که شوما فوری بر میگردی جواب میدی به بقیه ممبر های این بورد بود ، شوما هم عددی نیستی به ما یاد آوری کنی چی میتونیم بکنیم چی رو نه که ما خودمون اوستای کار خودمونیم ، آخرش هم از کسی که بخواد درس اخلاق بهمون بده انقد بدمون میاد که میگیم هررررری ، شیر فهم ؟

 

[Gaines]

هی ... ما خطابمون به شوما نبود که شوما فوری بر میگردی جواب میدی به بقیه ممبر های این بورد بود ، شوما هم عددی نیستی به ما یاد آوری کنی چی میتونیم بکنیم چی رو نه که ما خودمون اوستای کار خودمونیم ، آخرش هم از کسی که بخواد درس اخلاق بهمون بده انقد بدمون میاد که میگیم هررررری ، شیر فهم ؟

You know I looked at a couple of your posts, including this one, and it reminded me of another story. This one is only a few tears old. But since you obviously love stories so much, I will recall it here in a few minutes. Don't worry, this one will be only in one or two sections.

Stay tuned......

 

[Gaines]

With apologies to others who may have been (or may not have been) enjoying the story, this is a small digression; a short story, just for Daash AFRIRAN.
---------------------------------
A few years ago, I was a guest at a very old friend’s house in Palos Verdes, which is apparently a well to do area in LA. This friend had done well for himself and was living in a very affluent area in what could only be called a mansion.

We were catching up on old times when his 16 year old son walked into the house, wearing a black bandana. My friend asked him to come in and say hi to his old friend, me. The son, waived his hand and said Yo, wassup man?

His dad was a bit annoyed at his behavior and told him to mind his manners. At this point, the son started to move his hands in the weirdest way and said, Say Whaaaaa? Why ju always hassling me pops?

His Dad was pretty annoyed, but kept his calm. He turned to me and said, to me, “Can you please explain to my dear son that he is not black and Palos Verdes is not a ghetto. He seems to be confused about his race and culture”.

Now of course the boy knew exactly that he was a rich Iranian kid. He was just trying to sound cool or tough or something similar. He had no idea how ridiculous he looked and sounded. It was pretty amusing. He was not alone. I saw many rich white kids acting similarly, all in the hope of sounding tough or cool.

Now, the on-line persona you have picked for yourself, that of a Jahel circa 1960’s Tehran, is pretty ridicules. If you are trying to be funny, well you are not really succeeding. You probably are not 60 years old, and did not grow up in 60’s Tehran, so the act is as ridiculous as the rich white American kids acting like they are from the hood to look cool. But it is amusing, in the same way that my friend son was amusing.

Now here is the part you probably do not know. Even that stereotypical Jahel persona you are trying hard to emulate was not really real. It was mostly made up and propagated by cheap Iranian flicks starring Malek-Motii and Foroozan. And of course by a bunch of rich kids from northern Tehran who were trying to look cool or tough. But the poor souls had no idea how ridicules they looked to the actual tah shahris, who were mostly hard working men and women trying to make ends meet.

I told this story since you seem to like stories. Why else, would you open a thread called “A Story”??!!

Happy New Year!!

 

[Arash_Tombangir]

You know I looked at a couple of your posts, including this one, and it reminded me of another story. This one is only a few tears old. But since you obviously love stories so much, I will recall it here in a few minutes. Don't worry, this one will be only in one or two sections.

Stay tuned......

ROFLMFatAO ........ Nice reply Gaines!

I scramble out of yesterday's fog and look here, this dumbass starts it again!
LOL @ "black and ghetto"

 

[AFRIRAN]

به نظرم میاد شوما یه هوا ، هوا ورتون داشته از پنج شیش جهت ، برا اولین و آخرین بار اینم چون به نظر میاد آبجی سر سفره پدر نون خورده ای هستی واست میگیم و دیگه کار به کارت نریم ، اولندش از مادر زایده نشده کسی که پاشو از یه حدی جلوتر بذره تو زندگی ما و شروع کنه خال انداختن که تجزیه تحلیل کنه مارو ، هر چی هستیم واسه خودمون شاهیم ، شوما نظرت محترمه ولی واس خودت نگه دار که دفه بعد همچین مند بالا تحملش نمی کنیم ، دویومندش این دختر مخترهای تیتیش مامانی راست کار ما نیستن ، تو دلمون هوای اقدسه و بس، که اونم نی، پس درشو گل گرفتیم ، از دید مابعد از قیصر آب منگل تو ایرون یه مرد در قید حیات هست اونم " امین آقا فرزانه " که به سلامتی فقرا میخوره و مزه عرقش خاکه بعدشم دهنشو آب می کشه نمازشو میخونه و صد ها نفر از قبلش می خورن ، تو خارج از ایرون هم تنها مرد زنده داش پوتین و بس .... امیدوارم هر چند جهت کنجکاوی شوما رو جواب داده باشیم ، از ما بکش بیرون و بچسب به روده درازیت که اصلا حال نریم

 

[AFRIRAN]

ROFLMFatAO ........ Nice reply Gaines!

I scramble out of yesterday's fog and look here, this dumbass starts it again!
LOL @ "black and ghetto"

Mohhhhhaaahaaaaaaaa saal tahvilet khosh gozasht , maal maa ke kheili khoob bood , tang_e tang...

 

[Gaines]

به نظرم میاد شوما یه هوا ، هوا ورتون داشته از پنج شیش جهت ، برا اولین و آخرین بار اینم چون به نظر میاد آبجی سر سفره پدر نون خورده ای هستی واست میگیم و دیگه کار به کارت نریم ، اولندش از مادر زایده نشده کسی که پاشو از یه حدی جلوتر بذره تو زندگی ما و شروع کنه خال انداختن که تجزیه تحلیل کنه مارو ، هر چی هستیم واسه خودمون شاهیم ، شوما نظرت محترمه ولی واس خودت نگه دار که دفه بعد همچین مند بالا تحملش نمی کنیم ، دویومندش این دختر مخترهای تیتیش مامانی راست کار ما نیستن ، تو دلمون هوای اقدسه و بس، که اونم نی، پس درشو گل گرفتیم ، از دید مابعد از قیصر آب منگل تو ایرون یه مرد در قید حیات هست اونم " امین آقا فرزانه " که به سلامتی فقرا میخوره و مزه عرقش خاکه بعدشم دهنشو آب می کشه نمازشو میخونه و صد ها نفر از قبلش می خورن ، تو خارج از ایرون هم تنها مرد زنده داش پوتین و بس .... امیدوارم هر چند جهت کنجکاوی شوما رو جواب داده باشیم ، از ما بکش بیرون و بچسب به روده درازیت که اصلا حال نریم

My bad Daash AFRIRAN. Tassadoghet. Now with your rokhsat, I would like to post the rest of my original story. Forsat?

 

[Chinaski]

Mohhhhhaaahaaaaaaaa saal tahvilet khosh gozasht , maal maa ke kheili khoob bood , tang_e tang...

ولی آرش اصلا حیوون و دلقک نیستا. هیچوقت یادت نره, حیوون و دلقک پدر مادر مشخص دارن.

 

[Gaines]

Baa Ejaazeh Daash AFRIRAN. I am sure he is would allow this...Now the rest of the original story.....
----------------------------------------
As Daei Hamid was violently pulling my dad inside the house, he was profusely apologizing, and saying “no, no, its Mamal, no, no, its Mamal”.
After he locked the door, my father asked, “Hamid, what’s wrong, is he a laat or chaagoo-kesh?”. Daei Hamid replied, “No. I wish he was. At least then we could deal with him. He would either kill me or we would get rid of him. Right now, we are living in hell”.

This was pretty puzzling to my dad, me, and my older brother. Daei Hamid was peeking through the crack of the door and murmuring something to himself. At first we could not tell what he was saying. But it eventually I made it out to be something like “oh no, he DID see you, he Did see you”.

Now, in the mind of an 8 year old anxiously wanting to leave to play soccer, this was a bit too much. I started fidgeting and complaining that we had to leave. My brother also wanted to go and catch his date. My dad made up an excuse that we were late for another eid-visit and we really needed to go.

At this point Daei Hamid fell to his knees and started pleading with my Dad not to open the door. His voice was half-cracking. His wife was looking down at her own feet with a face as red as a laboo. The 5-year old was half shaking half crying.

To be continued…

 

[Behrooz_C]

Was it a crocodile on the loose?

 

[Gaines]

No. Good guess though. It was Mamal. More on him after I get back home from the party.

By the way, the Romans throw a kick-ass new year's party that lasts a couple of days. The Colosseum with fireworks is a sight to be seen, especially with what must have been 10s of thousands of drunk people. It did cost me a wallet with about 50 bucks in it though.

 

[Gaines]

I have decided to type the rest in Farsi as it would be difficult to convey it in English, and I am not a fan of Pinglish. I know y'all haev been waiting anxiosly , I apologize for typos and formatting as I am still trying to figure this persian font thing out.

--------------------------------------

پدر من از دایی حمید بزرگتر بود. برای همین، موقع نوروز اول دایی دمید میآامد دیدن ما. اون سال، دایی حمید دو سه روز قاب اومده بود عید دیدنی ما. وقتی میخواست بره ، بابام داشت موقع باز دید را مشخص میکرد. بابام میخواست که فردیه همون روز بره باز دید. چون می***خواست که یکی*** دو روز هم بریم سفر. ولی*** دایی حمید اصرار اصرار که نه فردا خوب نیست و پاد فردا بریم اونجا. هر چی*** بابام توضیح میداد، که سخت می***شه، دایی حمید که همینطوری همیشه خیلی*** به حرف بابام که بزرگتر بود گوش میکرد، ولی*** اینبار*** هی*** بهانه میآورد که نه بایدپس فردا بریم خانه او

بالاخره بابام رضایت داد و گفت باشه، ما به جای فردا، پس فردا می*آئیم خانه شما. البته من از این موضوع خیلی خوشحال شدم. چون یک روز دیگه به من فرصت میداد تو با بچههای کوچه مون بازی کنم.

وقتی اون روز رسید، من هم قرار هام را با بچههای کوچه گذشتم که بعد که من برگشتم یک بعد از ظهر کامل فوتبال بزنیم. به بچهای کوچه پائین تر هم گفتیم بیان که حسابی*** حال کنیم.

اون روز موقعی*** که رسیدیم خانه دایی حمید، بابام یک چیز عجیب بنظرش رسید. آن*** این بود که تو کوچه دایی حمید خیلی*** ماشین زیاد بود. معمولان چون دیگه ۴-۵ روز از عید گذشته بود، دید و باز دیدها تموم شده بود و خیلی******ها مسافرت هم رفتن. ولی*** تو کوچه دایی حمید هنوز ماشین میماد و میرفت، درست مثل روز اول عید.



خلاصه. برگردیم به وقتی که باز دید ما تمام شد. خیلی ننشستیم. بر عکس همیشه دایی حمید هم خیلی اصرار نکرد که بیشتر بمونیم.

به هر حال، بعد از باز دید دایی حمید ما رو خیلی عجیب از خیابون تو کشید. همون طوری که گفتم، بچه کوچکش هم داشت میلرزید. دایی حمید هم میگفت، آخ این ممل که اینجاست. من و بابام و مامان و برادرام هم که حیرون به هم نگاه میکردیم و نمیدونستیم چه خبره.

برادر بزرگم که کنجکاویش گٔل کرده بود رفت پشت در و از لای در شروع کرد نگاه کردن. من هم رفتم بغل دستش نگاه کنم ببینم تو کوچه چه خبره. دیدیم که یک پسره حدود ۱۷-۱۸ سال از طرف میدون میاد. یک زن چادر سیاه هم پشتش میاد. زنه رفت تو یکی*** از خونه ها، ولی*** پسره همین طور ادامه داد بیشتر اومدن تو کوچه. همینطور که میامد، دو سه* تا سگ* ولگرد هم اومدن سراغش و اونا هم همراهش اومدن. یک مرتبه دیدیم که مهمان*های بقیه خونه*ها هم پریدن تو خونه ها.

وقتی پسره رسید تقریبا وسط کوچه شروع کرد به عربده کشیدن. های نامسلمون ها، چشم منو دور دیدین، برایه خودتون عید دیدنی میرین و میاین.

مگر شماها نمیدونین امروز چه روزیه؟ تو همین روز بود که پدره مولای ما علی ، پسر عموی پیغمبر را،کشتن؟ ایرانیهای اون موقع هم مثل شما بی غیرتها هیچ غلطی نکردن و به داد مظلوم نرسیدن. برایه این که، اونا هم مثل شما مشغول دید و باز دید عید بودن. من ریدم به اون شیرینی*های عید که میخورین. من ریدم تو اون آجیل هاتون. ای نامسلمون*های بی*** غیرت.

چنان عربده میکشید و چشمهاش از حدقه زده بود بیرون. رگ*های گردنش هم بعد کرده بود مثل اینکه میخواد بترکه. سگهای ولگرد هم دورش میچرخیدن. باد شروع کرد به نگاه کردن به درهای خونه ها. یک مرتبه خودش شلوارش را کشید پائین و یک تاپاله گنده همون وسط کوچه رید. بعد هم کنار جوب نشست و شروع کرد در و دیوار خونه*ها را نگاه کردن.

من و برادرام نگاه کردیم به دایی حمید که ساکت پاشو نگاه میکرد. بابام هم که با قیافه حیرون زول زده بود به در. ما دوباره شروع کردیم بیرون را نگاه کردن. زن چادر سیاه از خونش بیرون اومد با یک لیوان آب و یک کیسه آجیل. آب داد دسته پسره و گفت، بخور پسرم، خودت را ناراحت نکن. بیا یک ذره آجیل بخور فشارت پائین نیاد.

To be continued.............

 

[Gaines]

Sorry about the size. Still trying to figure things out. I am also not sure where the stars come from. I am using Behnevis. Any help would be appreciated.

 

[Gaines]

به محض اینکه اینو زنه گفت، پسره افتاد رو زمین و شروع کرد به لرزیدن. زنه هم آجیل تو دهانش میذاشت و آب میریخت تو دهانش.

بعد از چند دقیقه پسره دوباره صاف نشست و شروع کرد آجیل خوردن. این بار زنه شروع کرد به جیغ کشیدن. ای نامسلمونها، ببینید چه به روزگار پسر بی گناه من آوردید. بی ناموس ها. بی شرف ها. بچه مسلمون از عشق امام و پیغمبر داره میسوزه، شماها شیرینی میخورین. خیلی ازتون کم میامد ۵۰ تومن بیشتر به من بدید که ما تا فردا پیش حاضرت معصومه بمونیم و این پسر به این روز نیفته. این عاشق ۸ معصومه. والله که لایق همون انه پسرم هستید. بعد دست کرد تو تاپاله آن پسرش و شروع کرد تکّه تکّه به در خون***ها پرت کردن.

پسرش هم دوباره شلوارش را درآورد و شاشید به چند تا ماشین. بعد هم از جیبش چند تا تکّه استخون در آورد و گذشت اول سگ*ها بوی کنند و بعد پرت کرد تو چند تا از خونه ها.

سگها هم که دیوونه شده بودن رفتن پشت در اون چند تا خونه شروع به وق وق. انگار میخواستن درها را بشکنن تا به استخونها برسن. خلاصه معرکهای درست شده بود.

دایی حمید هم به صدای یواش به بابام شروع کرد التماس که تو را خدا خودت و بچها بریم توئ ساختمون. اگر بفهمه پشت در هستیم از این هم بد تر میکنه. تو را خدا بیا.
خلاصه ما رفتیم توئ ساختمون و دایی حمید شروع کرد به تعریف جریان این ممل برای ما ا.

To be continued............

 

[meyti]

heh I liked Kahkeshan (lost in space) that was a cool show

 

[Gaines]

وقتی*** که رفتیم تو ساختمان، دایی حمید بعد از کلی*** معذرت، نشست به حرف زدن:

پسر خاله، نمیدونی این پسر چه به روز من و بقیه اهالی محل آورده. فعلاً هم هیچ***کسی نتونسته کاریش بکنه. اسمش ممد قولی*** است، ولی*** بقیه بهش میگن ممل گهی. من اینو حدود دو سه*** هفته بعد از اینکه به این خانه اسباب کشی*** کردیم دیدم. اولش هم خودش را ندیدم، مادرش را دیدم.

یک روز جمعه نشسته بودم خونه. پروین (همسرش) هم رفته بود خانه پدر و مادرش، چون پدرش مریض بود و مادرش کمک احتیاج داشت. من هم داشتم مشق بچه***ها را تصحیح می***کردم. زنگ در خانه را شنیدم. رفتم دم در و از لای در نگاه کردم ببینم کیه. دیدم یک زن چادر سیاه پشت در ایستاده. در را باز کردم و گفتم بله. این خانم گفت من همسایه شما هستم و یک خواهش کوچکی از شما داشتم. من هم دعوتش کردم بیاد تو.

آمد تو و نشست. همینطور که نشست، چادرش از سرش افتاد رو شونش. دیدم یک خانمی هست حدود ۳۵-۴۰ سال. به من گفت من همسایه شما هستم. مسافرت بودم با پسرم برایه دو سه*** ماه. حالا برگشتم. راستش شنیدم که شما معلم هستید. پسره من هم که ۱۷ سالشه بیکاره. گفتم که شما کمکش کنید براش یک کاری تو مدرسه جور کنید. البته همین تور که حرف میزد چادرش یواش یواش پائین تر می***افتاد.

من بهش گفتم، خانم، من خودم هیچ کاره هستم. تازه معلم شدم. نه کسی*** به حرفم گوش میکنه، نه خر م میره که بخوام پارتی بعضی*** کنم. شما بهتره که برید با خود مدرسه صحبت کنید، شاید کاری تو هیات یا چیز دیگری باشه، ولی*** من نمیدونم.

خانم گفت، که نه پسره من یک کار درست حسابی*** می***خواد. می***خواد علوم دینی و اجتماعی درس بعده. به خدا اگر یک کاری براش دست و پا کنید، من از خجالت شما حتما در میام. اینو که میگفت باز چادرش پائین تر و پائین تر افتاد، تا دیگه فقط روئه یک پاش بود. من هم که بد جور ترسیده بودم، سعی*** کردم هر چه زود تر دکش کنم بره. با خودم می***گفتم، ببین هنوز نرسیده برام تو محل حرف در میارند. بهش گفتم، خانم عزیز، برایه درس دادن تو دبیرستان، پسر شما باید اول یک مدرک لیسانس داشته باشه. به هر حال این دست من نیست. شما بروید با خود مدیر صحبت کنید. من هم الان باید برم بیرون خرید و غیره.

ولی*** خانم وله کن معامله نبود. هی*** میگفت که پسر من چند تا سوره از قرآن حفظ کرده. نمیدونید چقدر معلومات داره. عاشق امام و پیغمبر هم هست. دلش هم برایه ۱۲ معصوم کباب. شما یک کمکی*** بکنید. پشیمون نمیشید. من هم حتما از خجالت شما در میام.

من که دیدم اوضاع خیلی*** پاس، پا شدم رفتن به طرف در و گفتم، ببخشید من باید برم خیلی*** کار دارم، و خلاصه دکش کردم بره.