Daughter of Sheena (9)

Behnaz Zarrabizadeh

Daughter of Sheena-9

Memories of Qadamkheyr Mohammadi Kanaan
Wife of Sardar Shaheed Haj Sattar Ebrahimi Hajir
Memory writer: Behnaz Zarrabizadeh
Tehran, Sooreh Mehr Publications Company, 2011 (Persian Version)
Translated by Zahra Hosseinian

Chapter Five
By approaching autumn, weddings flourish in the villages. After harvest, villagers roll up their sleeves for holding the youths’ weddings.
It was the twelfth of Azar 1356 (the second of December 1977). Early in the morning we got ready to go to Damagh for performing the marriage ceremony. Damagh was then the center of district. Samad and his father came to our house. I wore my Chador and moved with my father. My mother saw me off by the door. She kissed me and prayed for me. I sat behind my father on the motorcycle. Samad also sat behind his father on their motorcycle. There was only one notary public office in Damagh. The notary was an old cheerful man. He took national identity cards of me and Samad. "Thank God that ID card of the bride bears no photo,” he teased Samad a little and said, “and I cannot marry her to you. Take advantage of this great opportunity and don’t get yourself into trouble."
We laughed at his joke; but when we found out that the notary does not read marriage vows with an ID card which is not bearing my photo, we got upset first and then we rode motorcycles with our tails between our legs and came back to Qayesh. All were surprised how soon we have returned. We explained the story to them. Then we put motorcycles into house, rode the minibus, and went to Hamadan.
It was afternoon when we reached. "It’s better to take photo first.” Samad's father said.
Hamadan had a big square, which was very beautiful and spectacular. There was full of flower beds, grass and flowers. A large watery pond was in the center of square. The statue of the king on horseback, which was erected over the stone base, was in the center of pond. An itinerant photographer took photos around the square. "It is better to take a photo here.” Samad’s father said. Then he went and talked to the photographer. Photographer pointed me to sit down on the large tin of seventeen Kg oil, which was beside the buxus. Then he stood behind his tripod. He threw a black cloth connected to camera over his head, held his hand up in the air, and said, "Look here." I sat down straight and stared at the photographer’s hand motionless. Shortly after, photographer came out under the black cloth and said, "It’ll be ready half an hour." We visited around the square, so the photos got develop. Samad’s father took photos and handed to me. My photo was very ugly. "Haj Agha, am I like this?" I looked at my father and said.
"Sir, why did you take photo like this?” My father frowned and said, “My daughter is not like this."
Photographer said nothing; he was counting his money, but Samad’s father said: "My daughter-in-law is very beautiful and good, and has no defect."
I put the photos into my bag and we moved toward the house of a friend of Samad’s father. We slept the night there. Early morning my father went to the relevant offices and my ID card was born my photo. Then he followed us to go to notary public office. The cleric, who officiates at marriage ceremony, took our IDs and asked my father about the Mahr. Then he said, "Mrs. Qadamkheyr Mohammadi Canaan, with a copy of the Holy Quran and the amount of one hundred thousand Rials cash, am I attorney to marry you with Mr. …" I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. I was worry. I looked at my father. He was smiling. He nodded several times as a sign of approval. “Yes, by kind permission of my father." I said.
The notary put a large book in front of me and Samad to sign it. Instead of signing, I put my fingerprint in places the notary showed me, because I had never gone to school and I was illiterate; but Samad signed.
I had different mood when we came out of notary public office. I felt something or someone separated me from my father. Because of this, I had had lump in my throat and had stood beside my father all the time, and I didn’t separate from him even a moment.
It was noon and lunchtime. We went to a tea-house and Samad’s father ordered Abgoosht . My father and I sat next to each other. In a way nobody came to notice, Samad pointed me to sit beside him. I didn’t pay attention to him, as if I have not got his meaning. Samad was over the moon. Frequently he crossed one end of the table to the other side, stood up next to us and said, "Is everything ok? Do you want anything else?"
Eventually his father became exasperated and said, "We do. Sit down. We want you to sit down.”
I didn’t know how to eat Abgoosht in front of Samad and his father, when they brought it for us. On the other hand, I was very hungry. I had no choice. When all were eating food, I pulled my Chador over my face and ate my food without looking up. It was a delicious Abgoosht. After lunch, we rode minibus to go back to the village. Samad beckoned to me to sit beside him. "Haj Agha, I want to sit down next to you.” gently I said to my father.
I sat by the window. My father sat down beside me. I knew that I’ve upset Samad, therefore, until reaching to the village, I didn’t return to see him once, while he had sit in the same row.
All family waited for us, when we reached to the Qayesh. Sisters, sisters-in-law and relatives had come to our house. They ran toward me when they saw me. They kissed me and congratulated. Samad and his father came along with us by the door of our house. Then they said goodbye and left.
When Samad went, I just realized that how I am emotionally attached to him in this one day that we were together. I liked that he was there and stayed with me. I looked forward till night. I waited that the door was opened and he came into our house at any moment, but he did not come.
Next morning at breakfast, I felt bad. I felt ashamed of my father. From childhood, I used to sit down on his foot or next to him and eat breakfast, now I felt a deep gap has created between us. My father was thoughtful, his head down, and without saying anything, he was eating his breakfast.
Later my father went out. A few minutes later, I heard my mother's voice. "Qadamkheyr, Come. Mr. Samad is here," she called me from the yard.
I did not know how came down the stairs, and with ill-matched slippers I went toward yard. Samad had worn his military uniform. His hold-all was in his hand. I said hello before him for the first time. He felt like laughing.
"Are you ok?" he said.
I wasn’t good. I had missed him from right now. "I'm going to the military base.” He said, “My leave is over. I think we would not see each other until the wedding. Take care of yourself."
I felt like crying. When he went, I just realized that my tears flowed down on my cheeks involuntary. My face had been wet. I had had lump in my throat. I did not want anyone to see me like that. I ran toward the parterre. I sat down under the tree, which I had seen him there for the first time, and cried.
From that day, especial ceremonies before the wedding were begun one after another; Rakhtbaran ceremony and Jahazbaran ceremony .
My father had prepared my dowry. He had spared no expenses. He had purchased six-some porcelain set, two set of bedclothes, carpet, primus stove, sewing machine, and kitchenware.
One day all the family gathered and joyfully loaded a pickup truck with my dowry and brought them to my father-in-law’s house. They arranged my dowry into one room. That became the room of me and Samad.

To be continued…