The Days without Mirror (Part 9)
2019-01-15
The Days without Mirror (Part 9)
Memoirs of Manijeh Lashgari; The wife of released pilot, Hossein Lashgari
Edited by: Golestan Jafarian
Translator: Zahra Hosseinian
Tehran, Sooreh Mehr Publications Company
2016 (Persian Version)
Chapter 4
Hossein had chartered a railroad compartment. I could not believe that all these events happened within three months: separation from my family; moving away from Tehran; my birthplace, and going to a far city where I had no picture of it. But whenever as I looked at Hossein, I forgot all these sorrows and was encouraged. Hossein prepared tea, biscuits and dinner. And he kept talking to me or giving something to eat in order not to think.
The compartment had a bunk beds. I slept on the lower bed and Hossein on the upper. When the electricity was switched off, I recalled my mother, my family, and my friends in the darkness of night, and cried quietly and silently. It seemed Hossein couldn’t sleep too. “Manijeh, honey, are you crying?’ he asked.
‘No.’ I replied.
‘Sure?’ he said.
‘Yeah.’ I said.
My attention to the steady movement of the train and its chugging did not allow me to wipe my tears and I fell asleep soon.
The next morning, it had not still lightened when Hossein climbed down his bed and said, ‘get up and wash your face, we’re approaching.’
We got off the train in Andimashk. Hossein's friend, Mr. Hossein Bahram, welcomed us by a bunch of flower. It was 20 minutes from Andimeshk to the air base. We three went to the officers' club and ate breakfast.
We entered Vahdati air base at 9:00 am. It was very warm; fifty degrees above zero. It seemed that Dezful's Vahdati base was the most beautiful air base in the southern region; a spacious, beautiful and clean area with villas. The bounds of each house were separated from the other house by tall and trimmed box tree shrubs in different shapes. The small gardens and between fences were full of orange, sour orange, and Christ's thorn jujube trees.
Our house was a big three-bedroom villa. The entrance was a covered path which was actually a parking area. Entering the building, you faced a big saloon. There was a smaller area in the right side of saloon which was the living room. On the right side of living room, there were bedrooms whose doors opened to a small hall. The kitchen and a small storage room next to the kitchen were also on the left side of the living room. The house had big windows that were opened to a beautiful, pleasant and good view of a garden.
I faced a lot of cartons as I entered the building. I put my two hands on my head and sat down among them. I said to myself, ‘Oh my God! Now what should I do with here to become like a house?’ Hossein first ran the unit air-conditioners and the house became cool and pleasant. Then he sat down beside me and said, ‘Don’t worry at all. We’re not in hurry. Little by little we’ll do it together.’ He took my hand and we went to the kitchen. I wondered: the refrigerator was working. Unintentionally, I went straight to it and opened its door. A few bottles of mineral water and two or three kinds of washed fruits in a small basket were in the refrigerator. Suddenly, as if I felt hope, I turned and said to Hossein with a smile, ‘when did you buy the fridge?’
Hossein smiled too. He quickly attached the gas cylinder to the stove that my mother had bought. When it ran, he began making tea. We drank tea, then he said, ‘let’s go to the supermarket and shop.’
I said, ‘leave this messy house and go out?’
He said, ‘Yeah, take it easy! Soon everything will be arranged.’
We drove to Andimeshk. There was a big supermarket named "Iran Super"; apparently, all pilots and their families went shopping there. Most of the goods and foodstuffs were foreign. We did shopping and returned home. I began to put the things we had bought in the refrigerator. Hossein also moved cartons.
My mother had written on each carton to which part of the house it belonged. We put all the kitchen-marked cartons in the kitchen, and all the bedroom and drawing room- marked cartons in their places; thus, the mess decreased a little bit.
The house had a telephone, but we could only have local call. Hossein telephoned his friend, Hossein Bahram, and said, ‘last night we’re on the way all the time; my wife’s tired; may you take meal from officer’s club and bring for us?’
As Hossein called his friend, I reminded my mother. ‘Oh, Hossein! Let's go out and call my mom and let her know we’ve arrived.’
Hossein nodded and said: ‘When you’re busy shopping in Iran super, I called by supermarket phone and talked with your mom. I said her we’ve arrived safe and sound and there is no problem. I wanted to give you the receiver to talk, but your mom said, ‘I can’t speak to her; it's better not to hear the voice of each other, because I’ll burst into cry and she’ll too...’’
To be continued…
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