Wednesday, September 9, 1998 / Shahrivar 18, 1377, No. 559
Khayyam
Fiction Open Air By Jasmine Darznik With time, he starts spending the night--just a few days of the week at first, but eventually most all nights. You are enraptured by the novelty and strangeness of the situation and find yourself more than a little thrilled by your own daring. With him you will shed your shy self and learn to laugh with the same youthful abandon as the American girls who surround you. Or so you believe. You follow him everywhere. You make no other friends. You mistake the anticipation of love for love itself. Your double-life begins. You call your father every Saturday morning after your boyfriend leaves to go for a run. Sometimes, though, he will sleep in and you'll have to stretch the telephone chord all the way to the bathroom, lock the door, run the water full blast, and call home from there. "Yes, everything's fine. . .I'm fine. . ." Your father says, "You must not shame me, Leily. You are not like the American girls. I did not raise you that way." You keep the phone calls a secret from your boyfriend, and you keep your boyfriend a secret from your father. After these furtive exchanges you step under a stream of water so hot it nearly scalds your skin. You wish you could deafen your ears to your father's voice and then, maybe then, strip your body clean of its shame and even the memory of shame... go to feature Anyway Saideh Pakravan, editor of Chanteh in Virginia recalls: After the 1979 revolution, one of the former senior officials of the Shah had been arrested and put in Evin prison. His son would visit him regularly, but for some reason he wouldn't drive to the prison; he walked. And he always looked immaculate. He usually wore a long coat and carried a cane, very gentlemanly. One day as he was walking up to the prison to visit his father, a car came up to him and stopped. The driver pulled down his window and said: "Excuse me, sir. Could you give me the direction to the Underground (London subway)?" History
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Khatami pledges peaceful solution to Afghan crisis Iran Steps Up Pressure On Taleban Over Diplomats Iranians Cheer American Wrestlers Samad Behrangi: "Little Black Fish" 30th anniversatry $ Rate Up five tromans, Quote Unquote Your only place Alone now, your head is splitting with pain and you yearn to curl into yourself and sleep yourself into oblivion. But instead you rise to walk the length of your carpet. Back and forth, back and forth. Your only place on this earth might be this one tiny room, and this carpet may be the only field you ever let yourself roam. Jasmine Darznik The Web Still going strong and growing... tons of laughs. Musician of the Week Book of the Week The Complete Poems of Iraj Mirza From Iranbooks THE IRANIAN New! Bestsellers |
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