Daughter of Sheena (29)

Behnaz Zarrabizadeh

Daughter of Sheena-29
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

It was about forty-five days from the time Samad had gone. Life was hard without him. Several times I decided to take my babies and go to Qayesh. But I changed my decision, when I thought about Samad if would come back home and we weren’t, he would get upset. Every day I had my ear to the ground when the door was opened and he arrived. These expectations had been so extended and hard that one day I took babies and by asking directions went to the office of Revolutionary Guards. I could be aware of his situation there, very hard. “We are not unaware.” They said, “Thank God he’s fine.”
These very some words brought me back to life. It was noon when we got home tired and hungry. Khadija’s small and dainty feet gave her pain. Masumah was hungry and nagging. First I dealt with Masumah. I diapered her, gave her milk, and sent her to sleep. Then it was Khadija’s turn. I washed her feet with warm water, fed her, and put her to sleep too. They had been so tired that slept until afternoon.
That night I dreamed bad dreams instead of sleeping with mind at ease. I dreamed that Samad has hugged Masumah and Khadija and was running in the desert wilderness. Some people also were following them with arms in hand and wanted to take babies from him by force. Suddenly I jumped out of my bed. My heart was throbbing very fast and I broke out in a cold sweat. I got up, drank a glass of water, and again I slept. It was strange I dreamed the same nightmare again. Fear made me to jump out of my bed, but as I fell asleep again, I dreamed the same. The last time I woke up in panic, I decided not to sleep anymore. I said myself: “Not getting to sleep is better than going to sleep and dream horrible nightmares.”
This time, noises out of the house scared me. I heard some voices from the staircase. As If someone was coming up from downstairs but never didn’t reach to the second floor. I had locked the door. I saw unclear shadows behind the window; the ones with big faces and black hands. Masumah and Khadija had slept in two sides of me calmly and silently. I thrust my fingers into my ears and crept under the blanket. Whatever I did, I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know how much time elapsed that suddenly a person pulled the blanket over mequietly. A shadow with a black beard and mustache had stood over my head. I saw he was Samad when the light was turned on. I put my hand on my heart and said: “I feared. Why didn’t you knock on the door?”
He laughed and said: “You fear of me?”
I said: “You came very quietly and scared me out of my wits.”
He said: “Ma'am! I knocked at door, you didn’t hear. I unlocked the door, you didn’t hear. I came into and called, you didn’t answer. So, what should I do? You just have to sleep comfortably.”
He went toward babies, bent down over them, and kissed them as much as he could. I did not tell him that I had dreamed nightmares during the night before. I did not say that I was scared, so I had thrust fingers into my ears not to hear his voice.
He asked: “Is the hot water tank turned on?” I got up and said: “This time of night?!”
He said: “I'm very dirty and dusty. I haven’t had a bath about a month.”
I went to the kitchen and turned on the hot water tank. He followed me and started to tell about how Iraqis have entered to Khorramshahr. He said Khorramshahr has fallen and many soldiers had been martyred. Abadan had been besieged by Iraqis and bombarded by cannon and mortar shells every day. He talked about Bani-Sadr’s incompetent and lack of weapons and ammunition.
I asked: “Have you eaten dinner?”
He said: “No, but I have no appetite.”
A little food was left over from lunch; I warmed it and spread the spread. I placed a bowl of yogurt and pickles and a dish of vegetable, which was brought by landlord the same evening, into it and served his food. It was a little Ashkaneh (1) . His eyes became red after eating one or two spoons. I said: “Is it hot?”
He shook his head and ceased eating. He put the spoon into a bowl and burst into tears. I asked concernedly: “What's wrong? Is anything bothering you?!”
I could not believe that Samad cried like this. He had covered his face by his hands and sobbed.
I said: “I become half-dead. Tell me what has happened?!”
He said: “How can I eat this food. Fighters in the border are hungry. They have got caught under the fire of cannon and tank of Ba'athists. They don’t have even weapon to fight. No food to eat. No place to sleep. Really they’re in very bad condition.”
I took his hand, pulled him forward, and said: “You are saying it is war. One can’t win. With your weeping and not eating food, they’ll feel full or any work will be done? Come on, eat your meal.”
He started having his dinner when I insisted much. I would try to tell something which was distracting him from the war. I talked about Khadija’s sweet-talking, Masumah’ seething and things that had happened to us during those days. Little by little he craved for eating food. He ate whatever was into the spread, from Pickles and yogurt to Ashkaneh, vegetables, and bread.
I said smilingly: “Really, you have just returned from the war.”
He laughed his heart off and said: “If I say that I haven’t eaten proper food about a month, you won’t believe it? I swear by your life that the last few days I’ve just hadaslice of bread and a few biscuits.” He kissed my forehead, as I bent to fold the spread. I looked down.
He said: “It was very delicious. Thank you.”
I laughed and said: “Bon appetite. It wasn’t so good. You were so hungry.”
I saw him properly when he got up to go to the bathroom. He had been very thin. He appeared crouched from behind; with messy and dusty hair and gaunt shoulders. I mumbled: “Oh God! That's my man. This is Samad. What the hell the war has been given him ...”
I wished: “God! Don’t allow the foot of war set anyone’s home.”
Soon after, the sounds of water running in the bathroom and the snoring of water into pipes were the only sound that could be heard. I turned off the kitchen light. Although it was midnight, but it seemed to me the house was like its first days; bright and warm. It seemed all the house was smiling at me.

1. Ashkaneh is an Iranian dish that is typically eaten by bread.
To be continued…