In search of...
When a bird can't fly it wouldn't know what she is missing but she knows something is missing

 

Jeanette Youhana
August 12, 2007
iranian.com

Ba'd az An divanegeeha ey dareegh
BAvaram nAyad ke Aghel gashtea'm...

I put my last hundred in the video poker machine and hit the "max" key and sure enough I lost it all in less than 10 minutes! I knew it, but I had to do it!

I had a shitty night. From the start I felt anxious and supper depressed. I drove around without any purpose, my loneliness was bugging me tonight. I couldn't ignore it as I always had. I was questioning everything, I mean everything.

I got tired of circling through each hotel and finally gave up and went back to the yard knowing well that I will be called to the office for putting 50 miles on the car and bringing in only one ride! I didn't care, just wanted to go somewhere away from the strip and hide in my shell.

I came home, took off my suite and took a cold shower hoping it would change my mood. It didn't so I drove to the nearest bar to have a drink and play a little.

I was hoping it would be quite so I can just sit in a corner and no one would notice me but being Saturday night I thought wishful thoughts. The bar was full but I realized quickly the patrons were all regulars because they all looked like serious gamblers. That was perfect because they don't bother others and don't like to be bothered, after all they are there to "take the house down!" So I sat in the far end of he bar and ordered me a Stoley on the rocks with some olives on the side.

Something was bothering me so much I couldn't breath, I felt suffocating, I wanted to cry, I missed something didn't know what. When a bird can't fly it wouldn't know what she is missing but she knows something is missing.

I downed the drink and started to play. The guy next to me who looked like heavy duty gambler and alcoholic (but then again in this town you never know who is sitting next to you; it could be some casino owner killing time away from his troubles!), looked at me and said "namez Brian, where you from?"

"From E-run"

"You must've walked forever to get here"!

I had not paid serious attention to him until then and suddenly I smiled and said this is a first, funny.

"See l made you smile now hurry up and win, good luck to you hon."

I asked him were he was from and what brought him to the sin city.

"I was born in Chicago but while back was hit by a drunk bitch and was disabled."

"You look fine to me."

"Yeah but it's better to collect disability than work."

"Well good luck to you sir."

Pink Floyd's "Where are you going now" from their Echo album was playing and I said I love this song, good music.

"Wow, people in I-ran listen to Pink Floyd?"

I said nothing, because there is no answer to ignorance.

My mother worries about me. And her worries drive me crazy and make me sadder. I don't want to worry, when I hear her sad voice: "Akhe cherA tanhAee, cherA ezdevAg nakardi?" ... drives me to the bottom of the oceans.

I know she doesn't say it to make me sad but it does -- it reminds me of all my failures and all those opportunities that I blew away. When we are young and vivacious we think we are immortal; youth is such a waste on young people!

I came home after donating my money and the first thing I looked at was my Foroogh Farrokhzad. I just opened to the page with the poem at the beginning of this letter and my heart just melted and tear dropped from my eyes like rain on dry land. And I ask myself will I ever find that which is lost in me, the wanting, desire and love?