Da (Mother) 107
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
At times I would hear the sounds of the “guests”; the number would vary as they found houses to rent in Mahshahr or left the city altogether. Everybody was talking about Khorramshahr. Although I kept my ears peeled, I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I pestered visitors for news, but in my heart I knew it wasn’t good.Da (Mother) 106
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
I wished I’d been able to take her head in my hands and caress her. I knew full well how to calm her. I’d been giving her advice since I was a child and, having gotten the better of her intellectually, I was able to change her mind on certain things. Now, given the way she was carrying on, I was glad I had kept the news about Ali from her.Da (Mother) 105
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
I cried myself to sleep and, again, was visited by the same nasty nightmares. Scenes of bedlam plagued my thoughts, and a horrible din in my ears. Terrified, when I tried to pry my eyes open, I imagined there was a bright light shining in them. I kept my eyelids shut. I wanted to scream but my voice got stuck in my throat.Da (Mother) 104
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
I don’t know how long I had been sleeping when I was awakened by loud noises and realized we had reached Mahshahr Hospital. The van stopped before an old brick building. People brought a stretcher and placed me on it. Then two well-built men lifted the stretcher and whisked me off to the operating room. They made Zeynab and Leila wait outside the door.Da (Mother) 103
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
The girls took me under my arms, and we struggled to get up the front steps. They held up my legs, and I managed to get me inside. This was very embarrassing, but the joy of being back and staying in the city eased the embarrassment. I couldn’t stand—not even for a second. My legs were still shaking. Terrible pain shot through me, reaching my head.Da (Mother) 102
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
She wanted to continue the conversation, but I didn’t have the patience for it. To be truthful, I wasn’t at all fond of her yammering. I told her several times, “Try to put up with it a little more; there are so many people here worse off than you and I. The doctors and nurses are all dead tired, and the wounded keep streaming in. All of them are on their backs, too.”Da (Mother) 101
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
Uncle Hoseyni had gone to Iran from Basra to raise a family when I was a year old. Sometimes he included pictures in the letters he sent to the grandparents. The stylish clothing he and his family wore seemed stunning to me. They weren’t dressed in the dishdashas we wore. Even at that early age I could tell that life in Iran was very different from life in Iraq.Da (Mother) 100
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
He passed me without waiting for an answer, and, as soon as he took one step away from the sandbags and reached the tracks, he blew up. I was on my knees, and the shock wave flung me to the ground and made my head ring. Now everything I saw and heard seemed like a dream. The sounds I were plain enough:Da (Mother) 99
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
The three of us prayed, sheltering behind the materiel stacked in the corner. The others also prayed and began to eat bread and tinned fish. They offered some of the tins to us as we sat by the boxes of medical supplies. We politely declined. The commander said, “Eat. You’ll need your strength because you’re coming with us to the front.”Da (Mother) 98
The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni
No one spoke along the way, but they signaled to one another to be careful so often it scared me to death. Worried my footsteps on the dry grass and leaves would make too much noise, I tiptoed as I moved with the column. At the head of each alley we reached, the soldiers would signal us to stop while scouts reconnoitered.6
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After Operation Fat’h al-Mobin, we traveled to Kermanshah and visited Sar-e-Pol-e-Zahab before heading to Ilam. During Operation Beit al-Moqaddas, the 27th Brigade was still receiving support from the West. We maintained contact with individuals who had previously worked in Area 7 and were now leading the brigade. It was through these connections that I learned about Operation Beit al-Moqaddas.Memoirs of Hujjat al-Islam Reza Motalebi
Hujjat al-Islam Reza Motalebi is a cleric from Isfahan. Before the revolution, he was the imam of the Fallah Mosque – which was later renamed Abuzar Mosque. By his presence and efforts, Abuzar Mosque soon became a base for supporters of the Imam and the revolution. After the victory of the revolution, he played a role in uniting forces and maintaining political vitality in southwest Tehran.The Necessity of Receiving Feedback in Oral History
Whenever we engage in a task, we naturally seek ways to evaluate our performance — to correct shortcomings and enhance strengths. Such refinement is only possible through the feedback we receive from others. Consider, for instance, a basketball player whose shots are consistently accurate; should he begin shooting blindfolded, his success rate would rapidly decline, as he would be deprived of essential feedback from each attempt.
