We would be playing in the street in the evening and I would see my American friends' fathers come home from work and kiss their wives and I would think, my secret's out.
There it was for all to see. I used to wonder how the street didn't freeze in time just then. I used to wonder even more how the American father could go straight from the kiss to talking about his day or the traffic.
It was a secret because we were Iranian and I felt like I was the only one at home who knew that it was nice for a man to kiss his wife when he came home from work. My father came home with important things to say, and a strong and proud voice for saying them. There was a revolution happening in our country after all, and a kiss could seem like a very small detail in comparison.
There was nowhere I could go with the secret, when it came back to me. To Americans it was ordinary, and Iranians had other things on their mind. A little while after the revolution, two of my American friends whose fathers I'd watched told me that their parents were getting divorced. I knew it, I thought. A man can't go straight from kissing to talking about his troubles at work. He needs to fall down and melt first, and then do his talking after he's gotten back up.
Somehow Americans didn't have it figured out either. I still wanted to be a man who came home with important things to say about revolutions, in Iran or anywhere else. I didn't know if the kiss should come before or after that. If it came before, it was going to be hard to fall down and melt and then get back up to be as serious as a revolution. If it came afterwards, it was going to be hard to fall down and melt after having been so serious; I was going to have to explain it to my wife.
And I had it in my head that if she was American, I was going to have to explain to her about revolutions, and if she was Iranian, I was going to have to explain to her about the kiss, but either way, I was going to have to explain it because if a woman was marrying a man who was always falling down and melting and then getting back up full of seriousness, that was something she should know about going in.
Recently by siamak vossoughi | Comments | Date |
---|---|---|
The Dance Class | - | Feb 12, 2012 |
The Night and Man | - | Feb 01, 2012 |
Take Our Daughters to Work Day | 2 | Jan 17, 2012 |
Person | About | Day |
---|---|---|
نسرین ستوده: زندانی روز | Dec 04 | |
Saeed Malekpour: Prisoner of the day | Lawyer says death sentence suspended | Dec 03 |
Majid Tavakoli: Prisoner of the day | Iterview with mother | Dec 02 |
احسان نراقی: جامعه شناس و نویسنده ۱۳۰۵-۱۳۹۱ | Dec 02 | |
Nasrin Sotoudeh: Prisoner of the day | 46 days on hunger strike | Dec 01 |
Nasrin Sotoudeh: Graffiti | In Barcelona | Nov 30 |
گوهر عشقی: مادر ستار بهشتی | Nov 30 | |
Abdollah Momeni: Prisoner of the day | Activist denied leave and family visits for 1.5 years | Nov 30 |
محمد کلالی: یکی از حمله کنندگان به سفارت ایران در برلین | Nov 29 | |
Habibollah Golparipour: Prisoner of the day | Kurdish Activist on Death Row | Nov 28 |
Secret
by IranWrites on Fri Dec 26, 2008 02:34 PM PSTSweetest story ever.
Dear Siamack
by Nazy Kaviani on Thu Dec 25, 2008 12:21 AM PSTIt's beautiful! How very observant you were! I remember those days when everybody had to sound serious and knowing when they got home! Heeh, I can't remember now when we all melted at all! But I do remember walking into political meetings in Berkeley when I was a student, and feeling so unsure about what to say because I didn't get more than half of what people were saying! I suppose I would have opted for melting instead, but it wasn't the right time for it as everybody was so overwrought with emotion and fake bravado which was masking their deepest fears. Your short story brought back so much! Thank you!
P.S. It was too bad about the December writers' meeting. I look forward to seeing you in January!
Short and sweet! It will be
by Miny (not verified) on Wed Dec 24, 2008 10:35 PM PSTShort and sweet! It will be good whichever time it falls into..the kiss...i dont think one has to think about it...let it find its own place with its own pace and let it own its own amount of space...
i like your writings!
sia
by Anonymous3242 (not verified) on Wed Dec 24, 2008 06:41 PM PSTmack
i love your writing. you are the voice of my childhood.
don't stop.
also, have you ever thought about translating into persian? i think your writing style would be beautiful in persian. have you ever read qeseh-haye majid? your stories remind me of an iranian-american version of his. damet garm!
.
by Flying Solo on Sun Sep 27, 2009 10:34 PM PDT.
Che Qadr Shirineh
by Zan Amrikai on Tue Dec 23, 2008 05:08 PM PSTSiamack, Che qadr khosham omad, daastaneto! Dastet dard nakoneh that you wrote it!