Gorooh e Gitaar Talaayee
She loves you, yeah yeah yeah
By Saeed Ganji
December 3, 2001
I was in my car with a friend last Friday listening to NPR. There was
a segment about George Harrison, his involvement and influence on the Beatles,
and how this band affected the world of music and pop culture around the
globe. Some of the songs took us both for a ride, to our childhood.
I remembered the "band" I had when I was an eight-year-old
second grader at Farkhonde elementary school on Kooche Kazemi in Tehran,
off of Pahlavi Ave., near Sar e Pol e Tajrish. At the time, my sister Shahla
was a student in England. She used to visit every summer and bring back
albums by bands that were popular in Europe. She and my older brother Majid
would play some of these songs and practice the latest dance moves.
I always liked the music they didn't dance to, the ones meant for listening
pleasure, among them Bob Dylan and the Beatles. I was so totally in LOVE
with their music that me and my classmate, Bahman (now a college professor
in San Francisco), started a band, called "Gorooh e Gitaar Talaayee"
(Golden Guitar Band).
We used an interesting gorilla marketing technique in promoting our band.
Back in those days, as some of you may remember, a popular method of advertising
was to employ small airplanes that would simply circle the sky and dump
flyers. I remember we used to get really excited by the sight of these planes
and would follow them hoping to catch whatever they were throwing out.
It was such a pleasure watching these colorful leaflets as they sensually
danced their way down to our anticipating hands. The trick was to catch
as many as possible before they hit the ground. Later we would count and
see how many flyers each of us collected.
During class hours, Bahman and I would cut blank sheets of paper into
small pieces and write the name of our band: "Gorooh e Gitaar Talaayee".
We would prepare as many tiny flyers as we could, depending on our ability
to hide our activity and how "teez" (sharp) the teacher was.
Then, during zang e tafreeh (break time) , Bahman and I would ake a bunch
of these papers in each fist, open our arms like wings of an airplane, and
run through the school yard. At some point, just like the real planes, we
would open our fists and let go of our flyers.
Our concert hall was the classroom. Between the time they rang the school
bell, and the time the teacher showed up, Bahman and I would stand in front
of the class, and play air guitars with our hands, and sing: "She loves
you, yeah yeah yeah, She loves you yeah yeah yeah...!" No, no. No real
guitars. No tickets, no royalties. Just the pleasure of standing in front
of an audience, and singing beautiful songs.
God bless you George for bringing some joy to this world.