Daughter of Sheena (21)

Behnaz Zarrabizadeh

Daughter of Sheena-21
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

The next morning, Samad woke up early and said: “Today, I want to throw a party for my daughter.”
He invited my parents and his, our siblings and several of our close relatives. Then he rolled up his sleeves, and made a fireplace in the centre of courtyard. Mother, sisters and sisters-in-law of mine helped him.
However, sometimes he came into the room to see me, said: “Qadamkheyr! I wish you felt fine and helped me in cooking. It isn’t pleasant without you.” It was cold. Around our small courtyard had been filled with snow. He picked up the shovel and shoveled the snow into a corner. In the corner of the courtyard, snow was piled next to the toilet.
When it began getting cold, he came into the room and sat down under the blanket of Korsi. He put his hands under it to get warm. Shortly after, he was busy telling his stories. He told about his work, his friends, and all things that had happened for him during the week. I had got Khadija off to sleep on my right side, and the other baby was on my left side. Sometimes I gave milk to baby, and sometimes put wet handkerchief on the Khadija’s forehead. Suddenly, Samad became quiet, thought about something, and said: “I tormented you so much. Please forgive me. You hadn’t good times, since being married with me. If you don’t forgive me, how do I answer to God in the other world?”
I was close to tears. “What are you saying?” I said.
He said: “If you don’t forgive me, I’ll become disgraced on the Day of Judgment.”
I said: “Why don’t I forgive you?”
He stretched his hand under the blanket and held my hand. His hands were still cold. “You just need my help now. But you see, I can’t be beside you. Revolution has triumphed recently. The country has not well-settled down. There are a lot of works that must be done. If I stay here, there is no one to finish these works. If I go, I’ll have my mind on you.”
“Do not worry about me.” I said, “I have a lot of friends and acquaints and siblings who help me. Shirin-jan is God’s gift for us. If she wasn’t, I had gone down in defeat long time ago. Do your jobs as you wish, and serve to our country.”
He pressed my hand. I saw his eyes have been red, as he looked up. Whenever he was very upset, his eyes became like this. Although I liked this state of him, but I never want to see him upset. I pressed his hand too and said: “It’s not good anymore. Get up and Go. Now they all think that we’re quarreling with each other.”
My sister had stood behind the window. She knocked on the glass of window. Samad pushed the panic button and quickly took my hand off. He got embarrassed, and turned red in the face. My sister got embarrassed too, looked down and said: “Shirin-jan wants to steam boiled rice, Mr. Samad. Could you come and help me to pick up the cooking pot?”
He got up. Reaching by the door, he turned, looked at me, and said: “Were your words from your heart?”
I laughed and said: “Yeah. Put your mind at ease.”
It had been noon. All the guests had sat around our small room. Someone threw the spread and another one put bread, yogurt and pickles in the center of it. There were some empty tea glasses in front of the guests; Samad was busy picking them up. Two glasses were stuck in each other and didn’t separate. One of them was broken and cut his hand, as he was trying to separate them. Shirin-jan quickly brought a handkerchief and bandaged his hand. In the midst of all this, my sister's husband frantically came into the room and said: “Gorgi had a badly nosebleed. It’s half an hour that it hasn’t stopped.”
Samad had bought a Dyane for a time. He took the car-key from the niche and said: “Ready her for going, so to take her to the doctor.”
Then he turned to me and said: “You eat your lunch.”
I burst into tears when they brought lunch. I pulled the blanket over my head and cried. I wished Samad himself was there and entertained the guests. I thought to myself that why should all these things happen, so he missed his daughter’ party.
When the lunch was served and all guests were busy eating, and the sound of the spoon on porcelain dishes rose; my sister's daughter came into the room, sat down beside me, and said: “Auntie! Mr. Samad and my dad and mom went to Razan. He asked me to tell you that not to be worried.”
Guests ate their lunch. They also drank their tea. My sisters and sisters-in-law washed the dishes. But Samad didn’t come.
It was afternoon. Guests ate their fruit and pastries too. Again Samad didn’t appear. My Haj Agha hugged the baby and recited Adhan and Iqama into her ears. Then he named her Masumah and called her name into her ears.
Little by little, it was getting dark. The guests got up, said goodbye and left.
It was night. All had gone. Shirin-jan and Khadija stayed. Shirin-jan prepared my dinner. My sister and her husband came back home when Khadija was throwing the spread. Samad was not with them. “So where is Samad?” I asked worryingly.
My sister sat down beside me. She had felt fine. My brother-in-law said: “We went to Razan at noon. There was no doctor there. Mr. Samad was bothered so much. He brought us to Hamedan hospital. With a few shots and tablets, doctor stopped Gorgi’s nosebleed. It had been afternoon. We wanted to come back, Mr. Samad said: ‘You drove the car and came back. I have to come back tomorrow morning again, why I should come all the way to Qayesh now. Tell Qadamkheyr that I’ll come back Thursday of next week.’”
I said nothing, but I was saddened so much. After dinner all of them went. Shirin-jan wanted to stay, but I sent her forcibly. “Haj Agha is alone.” I said, “He hasn’t eaten dinner. For the sake of me, I don’t want you leave him alone.” 
I got up and turned off the lights, when everyone left there; and I cried my heart out, into darkness.

To be continued…