PART ONE (part 2)
Subject: [I am getting married!]
From: Nassim email@example.com
Wednesday, September 1, 12:06:03 pm
Dear Mitra Joon:
Yes, you read the subject line correctly. I am getting married!!! I know, your jaw is dropping from the shock. Me? Getting married? Me, who had all but given up on love, and vowed to remain single forever. It has been a whirlwind, let me tell you. I guess it must be true what they say, that you find your true love only once you have stopped looking. I had all but given up on finding my Prince Charming especially after kissing so many frogs (remember Houman from Montreal? LoL). In my case, as you have guessed, I found my true love in the most unlikely of places: Iran. Can you believe it? My first time back since my family moved to Canada when I was three years old and BAM! Love at first sight.
His name is Pejman and he is so wonderful! I can’t wait for you to meet him. He is tall, with dark hair and eyes that you cannot say whether they are blue or green. They change with the light. He is so sensitive, so spiritual. Always with this kind of brooding expression that reminds me of Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights: Remember how we used to watch that movie together during our teen-aged sleep-overs and cry?
Mitra Joon, do not worry about me or the fact that this has happened so quickly. Pejman is the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with, that I am certain of. It was like it was meant to be. His family and mine had known each other back in the day and when we were children, our parents had joked that we would be betrothed. But he and his family were never able to get visas and after we moved to Canada, our parents lost touch completely. That is, until I decided to spend my summer vacation in Tehran. His aunt arranged a party in my honor and that’s where I met him. We clicked instantly and started spending every day together.
But I still refused to allow myself to believe that this wonderful guy felt the same about me that I felt about him. I had resigned myself that this would be a platonic friendship. That is, until a week before my departure, when he made his feelings known to me in the sweetest of ways: By writing me a poem!!! Swwwwwooooooonnnnnnn….
I have already spoken to Maman and Baba and Kati at home and they are very happy for me. I have extended my stay so we will have a small, private “aghd” right here in Tehran with his immediate family and then apply for Pejman’s visa to come to Canada, where we will have another, huge wedding reception. I can’t wait to come home and see you and we can plan everything together. It’s going to be the party to end all parties in Toronto J
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Subject: [Hi brother]
From: Pejman, firstname.lastname@example.org
To: Payam, email@example.com
Monday, January 8, 1:00:01 am
Just a quick note to let you know I have arrived safe and sound. The day after tomorrow is the wedding. Please tell Baba and Maman joon that I love them and that I am very happy. You see dear brother, I know my role very well and I am ready to play this character til the end, if that is what makes them happy. To have their son married and off to “kharej” to enjoy the endless opportunities that they imagine await me. They always blamed themselves for the fact that I never amounted to anything but it had nothing to do with geography! Unfortunately, I was born with a weight on my heart. I don’t know why, but whenever I start something, anything, that weight sets in soon thereafter and I lose sight of the goal I wanted to accomplish.
Remember how I used to barricade myself in my room for days when we were teen-agers, with the drapes closed, in complete obscurity. Maman thought that I was at the height of despair but those were the only times that I truly felt at peace. After she had that heart attack, I vowed to never outwardly show my true feelings for her. I started acting the part of the happy son early on. But that longing for darkness, for quiet, for stillness, never left me, and unlike you, I was never able to become the son that Baba and Maman joon could be proud of.
So naturally, little do they know (and as I promised you, they will never find out) that I only agreed to this sham of a marriage out of my fear for Maman’s frail health and her constant worrying about me which has reduced her to a sack of skin over her fragile bones.
Don’t get me wrong, Nassim is a very sweet girl and I will try my best with her not to hurt her and to let her have a happy life but I know that all your advice and predictions about love growing between us over time will not happen. I can never love her the way she loves me and needs me to love her back. There is simply nothing there. All I will strive to do is to be a good friend for her. Perhaps when children come, I can finally experience one form of love: the constant, unconditional, sweet love that paternity brings with it. As for the passionate, unwavering, eternal fire that burns you to your very core, that is a love that I have only read about in books and watched in films. It is a love that every man deserves to feel in their life, but that has escaped me thus far. I am resigned to it.
Please send my regards to Azadeh and the kids and say a prayer for me.
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Subject: [Nassim’s wedding]
To: Mom, firstname.lastname@example.org
Thursday, January 11, 11:16:02 am
Oh my god, I could not wait to tell you about Nassim’s wedding, which we attended last night. As you know, we were all dying to see the groom, what with all the circumstances around it. Poor pathetic Nassim who had to go all the way to Iran, so desperate she was to find a husband!
Now, I will give Nassim the credit that she did not exaggerate his looks. He truly is good-looking, with nice blue-greenish eyes and everything. But I mean, COME ON, who is she kidding? She really thinks this Romeo has fallen in love with her? For what? Her large hips or her big nose? No, he has fallen in love with a Canadian passport and also with Nassim’s parents’ bank account, which is as fat as her tummy hehe. As we Persians say, this guy has fallen with his butt into butter (Ba koonesh too kareh oftadeh) LoL.
You should have seen her, hopping around in her big poufy white dress, her arms hanging round the groom’s neck as if she was afraid he would get away. And, by the way, I am not the only one who noticed but throughout the whole reception, Pejman’s eyes kept wandering off to Kati, Nassim’s sister. Ha Ha can you believe it? The guy can’t even have the decency to put a lid on it until at least the ink on the wedding contract has dried.
Well, I think we can start the bets right now. How much do you give this “marriage”? One, two years? I say they are separated by the time of cousin Laleh’s birthday J
I will keep you up to date as the story progresses,
Kiss Baba Joon for me.
Mitra.>>> part 2