The Days Without Mirror (Part 4)
2018-12-11
The Days Without Mirror (Part 4)
Memoirs of Manijeh Lashgari; The wife of released pilot, Hossein Lashgari
Edited by: Golestan Ja’farian
Translator: Zahra Hosseinian
Tehran, Sooreh Mehr Publications Company
2016 (Persian Version)
Chapter 2
Hossein was performing his military service in Tabriz; but whenever he came to Tehran, stopped by our house on the pretext of visiting my father. Hossein was well-spoken and pleasant person. My parents loved him, but my brother hated him and complained: ‘although daddy likes Hossein, but it’s not a reason he comes to our house whenever he comes Tehran from Tabriz.’
One day, when Hossein was in our house, my mother gave me a tray with tea cups on it and said, ‘Manijeh, give it to your father.’
I climbed up the stairs and when I entered the room I realized that my father wasn’t there and Hossein was alone. I lost my cool. I did not know what to do with the tray. Hossein got up and took it and smiled kindly and said: ‘I put you to trouble.’
I was agitated a moment. I felt hot. I did not say anything and left the room quickly.
Since then, Hossein's coming and going to our house increased. Each time he came Tehran from Tabriz, certainly visited my father and brought souvenirs - perfume, t-shirt, bag, shoes, and so on - for all family members and me. Hossein had not yet proposed explicitly. ‘I really wish Mr. Lashgari to be my son-in-law.’ my mother said. But my parents thought that Hossein would propose marriage to my older sister, Azar.
I was weak in English in high school. I disliked English. Our English teacher had asked us to write an English composition in one or two pages about our family, and I was sad. I asked my sister, Azar, to do it. ‘I can’t do.’ she replied. Hossein came to our house at the weekend. This time he came along with his parents. His parents had said that they wanted to visit their cousin.
Azar said, ‘Hossein has been in America for two years, ask him to write your composition.’
I said, ‘No. Don’t tell him.’
As our people were talking, Azar asked, ‘Hossein, can you write an English composition?’
Hossein replied, ‘Yeah. For whom?’
Azar said: ‘Manijeh.’
I said: ‘No, I don’t want composition!’
Azar said: ‘She lies, Hossein. Her teacher has told to write two pages English composition about the family.’
Hossein said: ‘I'll do.’
Within half an hour, he wrote two or three pages and handed them to me. ‘I don’t want. I didn’t ask to do it, Hossein!’ I said.
‘Take it. Bring it and get your mark.’
I looked at the writing and said: ‘But it's all in cursive letters; I neither understand its meaning nor can read it."
‘Once read the whole writing and underline any word you can't read. Then I write them apart. Its meaning does not matter. You’ve asked to write about your family. Go and get your mark.’
I underlined some of the illegible words and Hossein wrote them separately and spelled out the letters. I made a fair copy of composition and brought it to the class. I was happy and said to myself: ‘it’s a good thing Azar asked Hossein to write composition! Now, I’ll get a good mark.’
One or two students read their composition until the teacher called me. I went and stood in front of the blackboard. After reading some lines, the teacher said: ‘it’s enough Lashgari! Put your composition on my desk and go and sit down!’
I was amazed, because, before me, she had not asked anyone to put their composition on her desk. I placed my writing on her desk and sat down. After a few minutes, the teacher came to me and said: ‘at the break, stay in the classroom; we need to talk to each other.’
I was worried. The bell rang and all of my classmates went out. I went and stood in front of my teacher's desk and said, ‘What’s happened, ma’am?’
‘Who’s written this composition for you?’ she asked.
‘My sister, ma’am.’ I replied.
‘You're telling the lie! Say who’s written it?’ she said.
I kept silent. ‘Does your sister want to propose you?’ the teacher continued.
By hearing that, I froze. I was close to tears. ‘God knows, I am ...’ I told.
The teacher disrupted me, ‘Tell me the truth! do you have boyfriend? If you don’t tell me the truth, I'd have to go to the office and fill the principal in on.’
With a quaver in my voice I answered: ‘God knows I don’t have any boyfriend; I just wanted to write a good composition and get a good mark.’
The teacher, who realized I did not understand the meaning of the composition I have read, said: ‘Naïve girl! The one, who’s written this composition for you, loves you. He’s written that he’ll soon propose to you.’
As I heard my teacher’s words, I was stunned. I was so angry that I wanted to choke Hossein.
The teacher smiled and said: ‘I realized that you don’t know the meaning of what you’re reading. Since then, be more careful! I overlook this time. You got the mark.’ Then she asked, ‘Now, do you want to know what he’s written for you?’
I turned red in the face and looked down.
The teacher picked up the sheets and read: ‘I saw this girl for the first time three years ago; before going to America. I’ve come back from America and realized that I fall in love with her. I want she knows too. I wish to propose marriage to her, but it's a bit hard condition.’
‘Now tell me why the condition is difficult?’ the teacher asked.
‘I don’t know ma’am. Perhaps because I have a sister who is older than me and my dad doesn’t agree with my marriage until she gets married.’ I said embarrassed.
I was nervous a few days. I was waiting for Hossein to come and asked him why he did that to me. My sister, Azar, laughed when she heard the story and said, ‘Now what do you want to tell Hossein?’
I said, ‘I don’t know. I want only to ask him why he did that to me. Why has he proposed like that? Why hasn’t he talked to mommy first?’
My sister said, ‘take it easy. Hossein is an easy-going and honest man. I'm sure he hasn’t a bad intention. He’s done it naively.’
My sister was right. In the weekend, Hossein came from Tabriz and, as usual, dropped in on us too. As soon as I got an opportunity, complained; and Hossein smiled comfortably and said: ‘It was a real showing of my feelings, and I’ll soon share the story with your family.’
My third brother had been sensitive to Hossein's socializing. ‘Hossein likes one of you,’ he said, ‘but I don’t know which one.’ That's why he monitored us more. When Hossein came to our house, my brother cried loudly, ‘Girls! Go to the room!’
Hossein had a blue Chevrolet Blazer and I had seen his car in front of my school several times. He parked it in a corner. Suddenly four hundred girls with identical uniforms came out of school. It was half an hour from home to school. I felt like he chased me. Later, he said, ‘I wanted to see how you behave in the street. Did you talk and laugh and peep inside any shop or not.’
To be continued…
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