Spared Nastaran Ahkavan

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By Nastaran Akhavan A MEMOIR
A true story of, courage, struggle, healing, and connecting with god.
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Irans Map ........................................................................................... 7 ............................................................................................................ 8 Introduction........................................................................................ 18 CHAPTER ONE................................................................................ 28 Neglected Childhood......................................................................... 28 Early years........................................................................................ 30 Divorce.............................................................................................. 37 Meeting my step father...................................................................... 48 Abandoned years.............................................................................. 60
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Sanandaj........................................................................................... 95 CHAPTER TWO.............................................................................. 101 Calm before storm........................................................................... 101 Farhad............................................................................................. 121 Martial Law (Sep 1978)................................................................... 179 CHAPTER THREE.......................................................................... 241 Black Friday (Sep 8, 1978).............................................................. 241 Zhaleh Square................................................................................. 243 Finding my way back home. (Sep 8, 1978)..................................... 363 Home again..................................................................................... 505 CHAPTER FOUR............................................................................ 586
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Never to return years (Nov 17, 1978).............................................. 586 Good bye Tehran........................................................................... 588 Reference........................................................................................ 599 People............................................................................................. 599 Places.............................................................................................. 603 Farsi Words..................................................................................... 607 ACKNOWLEDGEMENT.................................................................. 610 EPILOGUE...................................................................................... 616 About the Author............................................................................. 624
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Location of Iran on the world Map.
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PREFACE The purpose of writing this book is not intended to be the history of Iranian revolution or Irans history in general. It is merely to put in words my own history, recollection, and involvement in the event of Black Friday that took place on 9/8/1978 as I remember it, and without any judgment. This is a story of true struggle and courage, and undeniable testament to the power of surrendering to god. This story is true in content, but the names of the characters other than
Spared me have been changed to protect their identity from any discrimination and prejudice. It is not the intention of the author to condone, demean, insult or promote the Pahlavi dynasty, or the Islamic republic of Iran. It took me 30 years to finally write this book. It took a lot of encouragement from many different people to be able to finally put words on paper about the massacre that happened on Black Friday. It took me another 30 years to get the courage to write about it, including 3 years of intensive therapy with one of the worlds greatest therapist, Mili Naugle MFT.
Spared I strongly feel that it was gods will to have me there in the first place to experience what I needed, to become the person I am today. As Elisabeth Kubler-Ross puts in to perspective Know that everything in life has purpose. There are no mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings given to us to learn from. I have no doubt, god spared me from certain death so one day I can be the voice of the victims who lost their lives in the Black Friday massacre. They certainly did not have a chance to tell their tale and their side of the story. As far as I know, I am the only survivor. I feel the responsibility as well as the compassion to be the voice of approximately 8000 innocent
Spared people who died that day. Many of the families were never informed about what happened to their loved ones or their whereabouts. Most of the families still dont know where their loved ones are buried due to the fact that many of them were buried in mass graves. The families of the victims also never had the chance to say goodbye. I also deeply hope that upon reading my story, perhaps the families will have the closure they so desperately need and help answer the questions they may have had. -Nastaran Akhavan, San Diego California
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Introduction As I adjusted my eyes going from absolute darkness to the bright lighted street corner, I could see the silhouettes of several soldiers around me. As I was being dragged backwards, I could hear the gravel grind together underneath me and feel the pain of my skin being ripped off as the soldier easily dragged my tiny body behind him. Both my wrists were squeezed together into one handcuff behind my back as the soldier used the other end of the handcuff to
Spared drag me along the gravel road. I let out a scream from the bottom of my lungs from the pain in both of my shoulders. I feared both my shoulders and arms would break very soon if the soldier does not let up. The soldier stopped, turned around and kicked me really hard in my ribs, taking my breath away, and he said Oh, so you can scream but you cant talk? I see what kind of game you are playing. As the soldier continued to drag me to what seemed like an eternity, I was crying and coughing uncontrollably but couldnt get any words out of my mouth. The soldier stopped at a light post, grabbed me by my hair and stood me up, and tied me to the light post. Ah what a relief that my arms are not being
Spared stretched backwards anymore. I would take the pain of beatings and hair pulling over that anytime. I could see thru my swollen, watery eyes that I was at the end of a street. Not a residential street but a street full of shops, stores, and offices. I have walked in front of these stores many times to get to school every day, and sad that this time may be my last. As I looked around I saw large amounts of fresh blood on the ground, and suddenly the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on my mind. My level of fear went up another gear when I saw the fresh blood, because I knew that they must have killed someone in that very spot just earlier, tied to the same light pole I am tied to, and I was
Spared next. I felt my stomach tie up into a knot as I got physically ill. I tried hard to hold myself back from throwing up. Ten to fifteen soldiers swarmed around me staring at me, as if looking at a hunted animal. Like a flash they all walked back and lined up in front of me with their rifles pointing right at me with such precision that you could tell they had done many times before. I could feel the end was coming soon, this is it, and this is where I will be executed. The gravity of what will be happening hits me, and I am hyperventilating and crying. How can this be happening? My tears are pouring down, and my heart is beating so fast that it makes breathing difficult. I was cold and shivering and my teeth are
Spared chattering. As my impending death nears, a feeling of calmness came over me. I was not worried about me or my death, all I could think about was my mother, how sad she will be to find out I was executed. I always thought execution was for murderers, revolutionaries, or criminals, so why am I being executed, it just didnt make any sense. The countdown starts, and it snaps me back to reality. I can hear the voice of an authoritative and powerful man outside the firing squad telling his men: Get ready.get set I can hear all the rifles being cocked and the noise echoing in my ears. I close my eyes and brace myself for the moment of impact.
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Suddenly I woke up drenched in sweat from head to toe, and found myself in the fetal position under my living room table in my house. I realize once again, that I was having another terrible nightmare, another night terror. How would I ever heal or forget about what had happened to me on September 8th, 1978 that has come to be known as Black Friday. When will I ever stop having these flashbacks. First I was so happy the nightmare was over, but I slowly realized that it was not a nightmare, only a twisted
Spared recollection of the intense terror I had hidden and put away in the dark corners of my consciousness to protect myself from the cruel and disabling truth I had lived thru. Very confused about what I was doing under the table, I crawled out and walked back to my bed. Night after night I found myself having night mares about running and hiding from soldiers. I had numerous bruises and cuts from running in to the walls and furniture, as I ran aimlessly thru the house reliving the dark forgotten memories I was now remembering. My memory was finally coming back to me, with all the ugly details of my past. The memories of that dark and bloody day, September 8 1978, or Black Friday,
Spared were all coming back to me. My brain had done a very good job of blocking them for 30 years to protect me from these terrorizing and scarring details. Before that day, I had a general idea of what had happened, but never in such graphic details, and vivid colors. My memory had a lot of holes in it, and I could never make out how I made it home or how I survived. I know I had asked for it when I asked for help from my counselor/spiritual mentor/best friend, Mili Naugle, to help me recover all my memories of that dark day. She was and still is a beautiful middle aged lady from India, who also happened to be a Marriage/Family Therapist or an MFT. She is one of the kindest people I have ever
Spared known. She is selfless, giving, and very connected to god, spirituality thru meditation. She saved my life, and nursed all my emotional and psychological wounds. She warned me that there was a good reason why I blocked the memories of them, and perhaps it is best if I dont remember. I insisted and begged her to help me, and tried to convince her I am ready and I want to know every detail. Within a month or so, with the help of Mili, my full memory of Black Friday came to me thru many night terrors. She helped me to remember them thru meditation, surrendering to god, and allowing myself to regain those memories. She always told me that god would not give you more than you can handle. So
Spared surrender yourself and if you are truly ready you will remember them. After 30 years and months of therapy and meditation, I finally learned why I was spared.
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CHAPTER ONE
Neglected Childhood
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Should you shield the canyons from the windstorms you would never see the true beauty of their carvings Elisabeth Kubler-Ross quote
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Early years I always wondered why I have lived such a different life from anyone else I know. Nothing about my life was ever ordinary, not even my birth. Even to Iranian culture standards. I was born in Iran, Tehran in my own home. Our home was a very beautiful and large house that my dad built from the ground up. It was a 2 story home with the largest balcony in the neighborhood. All single family homes in Iran had balconies, some small and some very large. The yard
Spared was filled with fruit and flowering trees, a basement, and a small shallow pool. Tehran is the capital of Iran, a beautiful town with a lot of modernization, but still keeps its unique Middle Eastern charm. My moms name was Mehri, and she was from a city in the North of Iran close the Caspian Sea, called Gorgan. My fathers name was Javid, and he was from a city called Kashan which is located in the center of Iran. Kashan is famous for their beautiful Persian rugs. My mother was married away to a peasant farmer at the age of 13 against her will, and had a son from that marriage. She was used and abused like a slave, and forced to do heavy hard labor dawn till dusk. Her son was ripped away from her
Spared and raised by the mother-in-law. She eventually escaped and never returned to the family. She reunited with her son later in life but not until he was a teenager. My mom and dad met in Babolsar which was also a city by the Caspian Sea where my father was on a work assignment as a civil engineer building the tunnel that went thru the Alborz Mountain. His specialty was buildings, tunnels, and roads. My moms family had moved to Babolsar after she ran away from her ex-husband, due to the shame it created for her family. My mom and dad were married the arranged marriage way. Her step father was not happy about having my mother back living in his house again, and wanted
Spared her out of his house, and married off again. My father was 32 years older than my mother, and surprisingly the age difference was not considered a problem. At the time of marriage my mom was only 16 and my father was 48. It was not unusual for a man to be 15-20 years older than a woman at the time of marriage, but 32 years age difference was excessive even to Irans standards in 1950s. They lived in Babolsar for a year before they decided to move back to Tehran and settle down. My father preferred to live in a small town like Babolsar, but my mom was very anxious to see what it was like to live in the capital. My father bought a large piece of land from my uncle who was a real estate
Spared tycoon, and built a house on top of it from the ground up. Being a civil engineer, he designed the house himself. At the time he built that house, other than my uncles mansion, there were barely any other homes around, but soon after that the neighborhood grew, and it became a populated part of town. Soon after moving to the house my mom got pregnant, and gave birth to my sister Neda in 1959. My father had his heart set on a son, but was ok with having a daughter as long as he gets his son next time around. 2 years after Nedas birth, my mom got pregnant again. I was born in 1961, the same year Kennedy became president in United States. My birth was premature and
Spared unexpected when my mother just turned 7 months pregnant and delivered me in our home without any help. As a result, my mother hemorrhaged heavily, and I never spent a day in an incubator. My mom never lactated due to premature delivery, and hemorrhaging complications and I was being fed cows milk. At times I was fed by the gypsys who would come thru our neighborhood. It was very common for Gypsys to come thru the town, and take odd jobs such as cleaning, or washing clothes, to make extra money. Especially if there was a Gypsy who was breast feeding her own baby, would offer to breast feed other peoples babies as well for a small amount of money, to give mom a break,
Spared or if mom was too ill or tired to breast feed her own baby. By word of mouth they knew very quickly which doors to knock on, to get what the work they want. My mom hired nursing Gypsys as many times as she could afford, to breast feed me. If there was a nursing gypsy available, I would be breast fed, otherwise cows milk had to do. I was breast fed by 2 dozen Gypsy women approximately. I wonder at times if having had so many Gypsy womens breast milk, helped shaped my personality or thoughts, or directions in life. Ironically I have always been fascinated and attracted to long gypsy skirts, and chandelier gypsy earrings! Most Halloweens my costume is be a gypsy!
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Divorce After discovering that my mother gave birth to another girl, my father left town in anger and resentment of not
Spared getting a son he wished for. My father was married once before to a German woman, and had a son. They both died in a tragic car accident, leaving my dad with strong yearning to have another son. In those days it was common belief that some women are capable of having boys, while other women were unfortunate in that aspect, and can only produce girls. It was of extreme importance that a man has a son to carry and restore the familys name. Iran was a male dominated society as was the rest of Middle East, and some families really believed that it had to do with the womans genes that determined if she can produce male infants. If that tendency was demonstrated by her family
Spared history, meaning if women in a given family have had higher number of boy to girl ratio, then that girl was a lucky girl and presumed to be a good wife to obtain. This was a big deal, and unforgiven offense for a woman to not be able to produce a male offspring, and number one cause for divorce. Even the king of Iran, Mohammad Reza Shah, divorced his first wife Fawzia, who was a stunningly beautiful Egyptian princess, because she failed to give him a son. All of her beauty, love, and status was not enough to save the marriage, if she could not give him a son. He eventually divorced her and married his second wife, Farah Diba, a Persian woman, who gave him 2 sons and 3 daughters.
Spared My father left without a trace and never told anyone where he was going and how long he will be gone. Just imagine my mother going thru all this with no money, and no one to help her. She had sold all her jewelry, to help raise small amount of money to pay the Gypsys, and provide food for us. 6 months after my father left my mother ran out of money. She finally broke down and went to see my paternal grandmother who was very well to do, fair, and a kind hearted mother in law. Her name was Fatemeh, but we called her Khanoom Hajieh, which means the woman who had visited Mecca, which is the holiest meeting sites for Moslems, and attended the religious Hajj ceremonies.
Spared Khanoom Hajieh knew what it was like to raise children without a father. She was pregnant with her 3rd child, my father, when her husband passed away unexpectedly. She raised 3 sons on her own, doing odd but respectable jobs. But she also had very supportive family who helped her out. I remember she had the most beautiful eyes, and the color was a dark shade of purple. I had never seen eye color like hers in anyone else. At age 90 she moved in with my uncle who was the oldest of 3 sons, when she could no longer care for herself. She hired a troop of men to find my father and bring him back. They were able to locate my father in another town called Shiraz, in the south of Iran, and brought
Spared him back to Tehran. Shiraz by the way is the city where the Shiraz Wine was named after. My father was not very happy about being back, but had no choice since he knew the one behind this mission impossible operation was his own mother, and he minded his mother very much. He claimed he was stressed and had to go on a vacation, but he could not fool khanoom Hajieh. He complained that it was entirely my mothers fault for having another girl. He claimed that he could not emotionally deal with yet another daughter, and he had his heart set to have a boy. Although my grandmother pulled him to the side and gave him a lecture for his irresponsible
Spared choices, in the same token she made excuses for him, and asking us to forgive him. She claimed Javid lost his father when she was still pregnant with my dad, and as a consequence he never learned how to act like a father. My father didnt act like he was asking for forgiveness though, as a matter of fact he had a chip on his shoulders, and resentful for being dragged back against his will. My father stayed with us for the next 10 years, and basically pretended like I didnt exist. He could not run away anymore, but at the same time he refused to accept me as his daughter. He was loving and supportive with my sister Neda, but when it came to me, he would not even acknowledge he had another
Spared daughter, me! When he would come back from work, he said hello to everyone but me. He would buy toys for Neda, but not for me. On occasions he would hug and hold Neda or engage in activities with her, but I dont ever remember being held, hugged, or loved by him. I suppose he felt like he got stuck with a daughter he didnt ask for, and neglecting me was his way of protesting my existence. Even when he died, I discovered he had taken my name out of his birth certificate, pretending as if I was not his daughter, so I wont be a beneficiary to inheritance. In Iran childrens names are hand written in both parents birth certificates. He had to go thru extraordinary measures to get rid of my name out of his
Spared birth certificate, and claimed he lost it so he can have a new one issued without my name in it. He must have wanted to disown me so much that he was willing to do that. Before that, I was always told by my grandmother, and my mom that he loved me in his own way, but he is incapable of showing his love to me, but after seeing that my name didnt exist in his birth certificate, it was proof to me that once again that he didnt have any love for me, and I didnt exist in his world. I was merely an unwelcomed, unwanted stranger in his world. It was very heart breaking, but unfortunately what I ended up learning was that I am not love worthy. My mother on the other hand took a different approach. She made sure she
Spared gave me enough love and attention to make up for the loss of my fathers love. I was never spanked or disciplined, but Neda was spanked on regular basis by my mother, because she was a hard to manage child. I remember Nedas temper tantrums, constant high pitched brain piercing screams, and unruliness. Nedas punishment was borderline physical abuse, and there is no justification for that. Naturally Neda was always daddys girl, and I gravitated toward my mom and relied on her to get attention and affection. Even though I got plenty of love from my mom, still that didnt take place of a fathers love.
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Meeting my step father. During the time my mom and dad were married, my dad had been having numerous affairs, spending large amounts of money for these women, however, when it came to us, he always had an excuse for not giving us any money for food, clothes, or school supplies. Strangely he was known to be a kind hearted giving man in the community, giving to poor people, buying them televisions, refrigerators, or pay for a
Spared whole wedding when the family was unable to do so. However, when it came to his own family, his charity was nonexistent. I remember my mom sewing and repairing holes in our clothes, and constantly arguing with my father about why he does not take care of his own family first. After being married for about 10 yrs, my father decided he no longer wanted to be a married man, and he wanted to be free. He claimed that when he got married to my mother, he wanted to live in a small town, away from city pressures, but my mom insisted that they move to Tehran. He also claimed that he resents that, and he wants to be free again, so he can live and work where he wants out of Tehran. My father
Spared was also felt embarrassed and awkward as people would often mistake him to be Mehris father instead of being her husband. He told my mother to go and find yourself another husband, and I will let you stay in my house until you have found someone else. This was a very uncommon practice in Iran, as a mans family is dearest to him, and family always stays together, and divorce is never an option. Devastated, my mother tried and tried to change his mind, and begged him not to break the marriage, but eventually realized that he is serious, and she better find another husband. She felt like she was being thrown away like trash, after spending 10 of the best years of her life with my father. She felt like she
Spared endured his bad temper, womanizing ways, penny pinching behavior, and giving him 2 children was all for nothing. She was understandably bitter and resentful. This would be her 2nd divorce, and in Iran it was taboo to be divorced once, let alone twice. In 1969, Persian women did not typically have a profession or education to be able to support themselves, and having a husband was absolutely necessary for financial survival. My mother was no exception, as her education was limited to 9th grade. Although today in Iran approximately 40% of women are educated beyond high school, in 1960s only a small percentage of women had finished high school. Those women typically came from wealthy families. My
Spared mother came from a very poor and abusive family, who married her off to my father because he came from a prominent wealthy family, without any regards to the fact that he was 32 yrs older than her. My mother had a brother named Taher, but he was struggling financially as well, had five children of his own, and not able to support my mother as well. Taher had a daughter named Shirin, who was brain damaged and disfigured due to a motor cycle accident before she was born when she was still in the womb. As a result, she had badly fractured leg which didnt grow to be the same size as her other leg. As she grew it was obvious that the problem of
Spared having a short leg and having corrective surgery is becoming an absolute necessity. Taher asked my mother to help find a doctor who can do this surgery. He was concerned about the cost of surgery, and was hoping to find a doctor who will work with them to come up with a way to pay for it such as financing. With that in mind my mom made an appointment with a surgeon who was popular to be the best in that specialty. After meeting him and having an evaluation, the orthopedic surgeon agreed to perform the surgery for her. It was there when my mother met the surgeon, who eventually became my stepfather, and it was love at first sight for both of them. My mother was young and very beautiful, and he
Spared was very handsome, educated, successful and a gentleman himself. He had many women after him, and was newly divorced. Soon after meeting they ended up getting married against all odds and disapprovals. My step fathers name was Dr. Aram Noori, who was an orthopedic specialist and surgeon, as well as a Lieutenant General under Shahs Army when they got married. By the time he retired he was a general in Shahs Army. We had to call him Mr. Doctor, to be respectful. He was married to a woman who was a colleague, a popular gynecologist. She led him to believe that he fathered the 2 daughters they had during a 9 years of
Spared marriage. Soon after the girls started school, the truth became clear to Mr. Dr. that he is not their biological father. He found that out by running in to an old friend of the family who was also the family doctor. His name was Dr. Afshin, a balding, jolly, short statured doctor in his 80s who was retired already. Mr. Dr. was told as a child that Dr. Afshin had done an operation to remove a benign tumor from his testicles. Dr. Afshin only told Mr. Dr.s father the truth. The truth was that Mr. Dr. will never be able to have children of his own. This information was only shared with Mr. Dr.s father, and the rest of the family was lead to believe that the operation did not alter his fertility. Selfish or not, this was a
Spared very common practice in Iran to hide information from the patient, in order to save him/her from unnecessary grief. For example if a patient is diagnosed with cancer, the doctor will only share that with the family and leaves it up to them to either share it with the patient or not. The whole family will usually hide the bad news from the patient and everyone else would keep it a secret. So when Mr. Dr. ran in to Dr. Afshin almost 40 years later, and discovered that Mr. Dr. is married with children, he finally told him the truth about the operation he had, and told him in no uncertain terms that he is indeed sterile. Dr. Afshin also told him that per the conversation he had with Mr. Dr.s father, he was to tell Mr.
Spared Dr. the truth about being sterile when he was ready to choose a wife. However his father passed away unexpectedly at a young age unable to tell him the truth. Just to be certain, Mr. Dr. did a paternity test for both children, and discovered that not only that he is not their biological father; he also learned that they each have different fathers. Betrayed and heartbroken, he divorced his wife, but maintained his fatherhood to the girls. After all he had raised them for over 9 years, and could not divorce them, even though he was not their true father. After all It was not the childrens fault to suffer the consequence of their mothers actions. Soon after the divorce, his ex-wife moved
Spared to France, but he maintained his connection with daughters thru letters and occasional phone calls. In Iran, in early 1970s, it was highly unusual for a woman with 2 small children to get married again. Divorced single moms were known to be second hand or another mans reject or left over. Women lived in a Hippocratic society, as there was a stigma attached to a woman who was divorced, there was not one attached to a man. To make matters more complicated, it was even more shocking when such a socially prominent man such as my stepfather, was planning to get married to a woman who has already been married and has two children. They were faced with much
Spared disapproval and social objection but they were in love and nothing else mattered. He was the gentlest, most kindhearted, selfless and loving human being I have ever known and he became the best father figure a girl could ever have. However, Neda didnt feel the same. She remained loyal to our biological father, Javid, and refused to replace him with any other man. This was true even though Javid never chose to stick around, and did not contribute much to our care, education or anything else. Since Mr. Dr. was not able to have any children of his own, having 2 step children was a welcomed and pleasant situation for him.
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Abandoned years After my parents were divorced and my mother remarried, things changed drastically. After getting married, Mr. Dr. received orders to move to another town called Sanandaj, which is located in the North East of Iran, bordering Iraq. My mom found herself in a bad situation. She felt she had to establish and nurture the new marriage. With that task she left Tehran, and left us in the care of our father who had assumed custody of us. After they left, my father
Spared left town and took an assignment which required him to travel and build schools, homes, mosques, and other buildings. This was basically what my father wanted, to be free, and work out of Tehran. In order to do that he had to find someone to help take care of us, while he followed his dreams. Sharifeh was a middle aged woman was hired to take care of Neda and I while my father stayed out of town for long periods of time. She came from a remote village, after divorcing her abusive husband. She had a daughter named Sayareh who was 9 years old when she came to live with us. She was a very delightful, happy, and energetic girl, and I was so happy to find an instant best friend who lived
Spared with us. Sharifeh first child was a daughter and although Sayarehs father was not very happy about that but told her that he is willing to forgive her only once. Sayarehs father, who was a typical uneducated farmer, ordered Sharifeh she must deliver a son for him or else he will be left with no choice but to let it starve to death. When Sharifeh delivered a baby girl, she was prohibited to breastfeed Sayareh until she died. Faced with this cruel and inhumane behavior on her husbands part, and having no voice, Sharifeh made a decision to leave her husband and come to Tehran for work. This was something that was unheard of in her village. A woman never talked back to her husband, and definitely not
Spared allowed to have a divorce unless her husband would agree to it. Divorce was entirely a privilege for men and men only. She left him taking nothing other than her daughter, regardless of all the discriminating judgments from her community, and for challenging her husbands authority, she came to Tehran. She eventually obtained her divorce, mostly because her husband wanted to remarry. She became a nanny for several different families before working for us. Sayareh and I ended up having a very sister like bond between us. I felt like she was rejected by her father like I was and we had so much in common. Although we respected Sharifeh for her courageous acts of saving her
Spared daughters life, we soon realized that she was very preoccupied with her own wants and needs. She soon had several affairs with the local grocer, butcher, dry cleaner, milk man, mail man, and the produce man. Soon rumors of her careless affairs were circulating the neighborhood and she was forced to continue her affairs out of town in a city called Qom, which is ironically a holy city. Qom is located 97 miles South West of Tehran and considered to be the largest center for Shi-a Muslims. At times she would go back to her home town to visit with her other daughter, and we would be left alone as well. Sharifeh would be gone
Spared anywhere from few days to few months at a time, leaving Sayareh behind as well. With Sharifeh, our father and mother being gone, we were literally and completely abandoned. Abandoned and left to fend for ourselves, we were helpless little kids who desperately needed guidance, protection and care. At the time we were abandoned, Neda was 10, Sayareh was 9, and I was 8. It was some of the most frightening memories I have. It was bad enough to suddenly lose both your mother and father, now we were forced to face the world alone with no one to care for us. Being frightened at night, fearing the shadows and sounds and crying ourselves to sleep was a
Spared nightly occurrence. Hunger was eventually added to the list of miseries as we had nothing but bread crumbs to eat. I am not sure if Sharifeh miscalculated the amount of food we needed until she got back or if she just didnt care but either way, we suffered with hunger as a consequence. We had no money to buy food and even if we did, we didnt know how to cook or even turn the stove on. I took it upon myself to be the cook and prepare the only foods we had left which was a bag of potatoes, and a bag of rice that was in our basement which had become infested by worms and cockroach eggs.. We also had a few egg laying chickens that Sharifeh brought from one of her travels to her town and they provided us with
Spared some eggs. I was experimenting with cooking and eventually learned to be a great cook even with the limited amount of resources I had. We made sure we woke ourselves up to go to school because we were in fear of being reported to the authorities and having to go to an orphanage. Orphanages in Iran were overfilled with unwanted, mentally and physically challenged children and we had heard horror stories of how bad they are treated. It was definitely better to live with abandonment, hunger, and cold, than it was to be left in an orphanage getting abused. At least we had our freedom. When we would be asked by school teachers why we looked so disheveled, we would
Spared make all kinds of excuses and claim mom has not been feeling good, and promise it will never happen again. With no washing machine we had to hand wash everything. We would throw all the clothes in to the bath tub and try to stomp on them until they were cleaned, and then hung them over the terrace lines to dry. We learned very early in life that we had to be our own parents and we were forced to grow up fast. Sharifeh came and went and she would be gone from 2 to 3 days to several months and was totally unaffected by our pleas. We begged her to please dont leave us, but she didnt care, and called us ungrateful.
Spared Soon winter arrived and brought punishing and brutal cold with it. Tehran is situated at 4000 feet elevation surrounded by mountains and winters are very unforgiving. As majestic as snow is, to us it was reminders of more pain to come. While all the neighborhood kids jump up and down at the first sign of new snow, we would be sorrow stricken and fearing the subzero cold at night. We had a portable gas burning heater, but no money to buy petroleum to put in it. To remedy the situation, we would all try to get under the same blanket using our body heat to get thru freezing cold nights. We were teased at school for wearing the same clothes and shoes we wore the year before and naturally
Spared they didnt fit anymore, but we had no choice. I remember being laughed at school for the ridiculous clothes I wore that looked 3 sizes too small. Our preparation for school usually started at 4:30 am, as we had a long way to walk to school. I painfully remember when we had to walk all the way to school in snow as high as our knees in old boots with holes in the soles. Every few blocks I had to stop and squeeze the freezing water out of them just to be able to make it to school. Every once in a while Sharifeh would come back home and grocery shop and leave again. All of us were deeply depressed and tried several unsuccessful suicide attempts in cry for help. Unfortunately there was no Child
Spared Protective Services or any similar organizations to help us out. My father visited every 6 months or so and only stayed for a few days. He was very defensive whenever we talked about being abandoned and did not allow any questions or discussions regarding that. He could not see why we would complain when he has hired a nanny to care for us. Despite all the begging and pleading to our father about our situation, telling him to help us because Sharifeh is never around, he would take her side, and consequently call us big babies, trouble makers, and liars. Sharifeh somehow always knew when my father would show up. She would suddenly
Spared appear from where ever she was and make it look like she has always been there, acting like she was the best caregiver and nanny to us. Unlike my father, it was very difficult to fool our neighbors and they were the testament to the fact that we were abandoned. In Tehran neighbors were very noisy typically and everyone knew everybody elses business. We had practiced every possible scenario and prepared stories to tell when one of them would show up knocking at our door asking to speak to our father or Sharifeh. Even though we lied and told them that my father or Sharifeh was busy, asleep, in the shower, ill, on the phone, and unavailable, they knew the truth was that we
Spared were left without supervision. There were a few neighbors who actually cared and would send a hot dish every once in a while in an effort to help. Oh we so appreciated a hot meal as it filled our hearts and stomach at the same time making us rest assure we dont have to go to bed hungry one more day. My mother and Mr. Dr. visited 2 or 3 times during our abandoned years and would fill up our pantry and fridge with enough food to last us for a while. Unfortunately it always seemed like my father would visit right after that, empty out all the fresh and pantry food, take it with him and leave town again without any caring that his children will go hungry.
Spared Every time my mom visited I would beg her to take me with her, but her heartbreaking answer was always no. In Iran, girls 7 and older, and boys 2 and over, belonged to the father after a divorce. I know for a fact that my father would not allow that, just to be mean and difficult. It always seemed to me that we were the left over from a family that once existed, an unwanted quandary no one wanted to deal with. I caught every childhood disease during those years. Every time I got sick the neighbors notified my mother to come back to Tehran, or else I was going to die. Mr. Dr. rushed back with my mom and cared for me once with
Spared Diphtheria, and another time with Influenza B. each time they stayed in town until I was strong enough to go back to school. Each time Mr. Dr. would voice his disgust and discontent with the way my father abandoned us. He could not fathom how a man would care so little for his own flesh and blood. Each time as usual they would fill our pantry and fridge with food in hope that we would benefit from it rather than my father. By the end of abandoned years we grew very independent and we were in a way, happy to be left alone and self sufficient. We did whatever we felt like doing and go where ever we felt like, even if it meant going out of town on a bus to see my grandmother by the Caspian Sea.
Spared Somehow we had a great moral compass and never got ourselves in any wrong or serious situations, or adapted any self destructive or addictive behaviors. As strange as it may seem, we had lived this unusual and cruel life style for so long that it finally became the norm and it would not bother us anymore. Our friends would envy us for all the freedom we had, but we still missed having a mom or a dad who would come home at night and pay attention to our needs. In 1972 my mom and Mr. Dr. moved back to live in Tehran again from their 2 year long military transfer to Sanandaj. Naturally I was elated and felt like life cannot get any better. Filled with feelings of resentment and bitterness,
Spared Neda resisted having a relationship with our mom or Mr. Dr. Neda tried in the beginning to come over to our Moms house, but soon it was obvious that Neda had already decided she was not going to forgive or understand. My mom and Neda would get in to numerous arguments. In Nedas mind, she held my mom responsible for being abandoned for 2 years. Somehow I didnt see things in that light, and didnt blame our mom for the abandonment and could see how our mom had no choice but to get remarried, and had to establish herself in her new family before we could be a part of it. Even if she wanted to take us, my father would not allow it. I certainly agreed that my mother fitting in
Spared to a new family came at a high cost to her and to us, but nevertheless it had to take place. I felt like our father was the one who initiated the divorce, announcing he no longer wants to be married and insisted he wants custody of us, and then turned around and abandoned us. As a result I ended up going to my moms house every other day and enjoyed being pampered by them immensely. Neda chose to stay at our dads house, even if it meant continued abandonment, loneliness, and depression. My mom tried to make up for all the neglect and was extra loving and giving, but unfortunately Neda declined to receive it and eventually missed out on it. I felt so sorry for Neda because she
Spared wanted to be pampered just like I was, but was helpless as Neda didnt want any part of it. I learned that Mr. Dr. was not only the kindest, most generous man and a humanitarian I have ever met, but also a very caring and loving father figure. He wasnt the most verbal man with his emotions but he managed to show me love thru his actions and kind gestures. He cared about me and asked about my plans for the future and actually asked me something no one else had asked before. Do you know what your passion for life is, and what dreams you have?
Spared Frozen with amazement, I had never imagined that I can have dreams too, just like a man. I always thought only men can have ambitions, plans and dreams for their future, not women and certainly not small children like me. I certainly never even heard my father being interested in how my day was; let alone what dreams I had. He made kind remarks about my drawings and once told me, If Picasso was alive, he would be proud to take you under his wings and nurture you as a student. He taught me a lot of valuable lessons, but more important than anything, he taught me that I mattered, something that I didnt know until then.
Spared Mr. Dr. fulfilled his duties as an Orthopedic/General surgeon, the Army hospital administer and chief MD during the day and then after taking a short break and having dinner at home he would head out to his second job, his real passion. With his own money, Mr. Dr. opened up a free clinic in the slums of down town Tehran for anyone who needed it. Most people lived in cardboard shacks and standards of living were sub poverty. His clinic had 3 patient rooms, a pharmacy, a room for simple procedures or surgeries, and a laboratory. He had a midwife, pharmacist, an RN, a licensed vocational nurse and a nurse assistant who worked for him. All of these people were on the payroll
Spared paid by Mr. Dr. At any given time there would be a woman screaming in labor or pain, people sitting in the waiting room, or people crying because they were suffering with some kind of ailment. It was first come first serve and usually by the time he arrived at the clinic, the line of people waiting to get in was enormous. People would swarm around him holding on to him, begging him to save the lives of their babies or themselves. He would hold his hands up in the air and say: Ok, ok please let me get in and please be patient. I will try my best to get to all of you. Grateful patients try to kiss his hands in gratitude and some would even try to get on the floor to kiss his feet as a gesture of gratitude. The truth was
Spared he didnt really want nor needed all the love patients would shower him with. This was his passion and he was happy to do it. His ego was nonexistent, especially when it came to helping these poor, unfortunate people. He spent many late nights, not getting any sleep doing whatever it took to care for as many people as he could possibly care for. In fact some nights he would stay there all night. Even after doing all of this he would still never be able to get to everyone. He always looked exhausted with big bags under his eyes, but never complained or took it out on anyone. In my eyes Mr. Dr was the reincarnation of Albert Schweitzer, a humanitarian Doctor who helped thousands of people in
Spared Africa. This was evidenced by his deep commitment to serve humanity through his thoughts and actions. It was there in that clinic where he saved people and mended broken bodies and souls, one patient at a time. At times when major surgeries were needed and his clinic was not advanced enough to accommodate it, he would perform the surgeries at a local hospital and would pay for the entire cost by himself. He operated on my cousins deformed leg and a thousand other surgeries for other people at no cost to them whatsoever. As a matter of fact, he would even give them cash to make sure they can afford to live until they are back on their feet. Through all this, my mom remained very
Spared supportive and understanding and never complained about decreased income or lack of time with Mr. Dr. and even accompanied him at his clinic helping with injections, nursing wounds and whatever it took to help care for patients. Later on my mom obtained her midwifery certificate and helped at the clinic with deliveries and providing prenatal care. My step father had an office in our own house, where he would see patients privately as well. This was completely different and separate from what he did for the army. One evening, when I was about 16 years old, in my junior year in high school, one of the Officers who worked with my step father came to our house with his wife and daughter. I had
Spared opened the door the day they came over to our house. He was wearing his uniform and introduced himself to me as Officer Nejat. I greeted them, and took them down stairs in his office and told them Ill call my dad in a minute. It was a routine I had done many times before. I would greet and settle patients down, bring them some hot tea and then go call my dad and tell him his patients are ready to be seen. I wasnt even sure which one was the patient, but I noticed that the 10 year old daughter was limping. I had a dream that one day I would become my stepfathers nurse, so I always did whatever I could when it came to his patients. I tried to impress my dad with my abilities
Spared and took patients temperature, and blood pressure. I also tried to show him my good customer service. I always was so curious and wanted to know what was wrong with his patients and what his diagnosis was, how he arrives at his diagnosis and what the treatment plan included. To my disappointment, Mr. Dr. would remind me that what went on with his patients was confidential and he had taken an oath when he became a physician that he would not share patients information with anyone else unless it was medically necessary to discuss it from one physician to another or with a health care provider. He had even showed me the actual oath certification which was hung on his office
Spared wall along with his other doctors credentials. However, my mother was not so good at the confidentiality rule and would tell me about his cases. I was dying to know who this patient was and what was wrong. I figured the 10 year old girl must be the patient because she was limping and that is my fathers specialty. Being an orthopedic surgeon, he had done miracles for patients, including my own cousins uneven legs. I brought 3 cups of tea for them and served it to them. I asked the little girl what her name was and she said it was Gita. I informed my dad that his patients are ready to be seen.
Spared After the visit was over, I asked my father which one the patient was, and as usual he told me it was not any of my business. I had to ask my mother if she knew later, and she told me it was the little girl. I figured OK it must be her uneven legs that seem to be the problem. They had 2 more visits in our house and then my father was to operate on her. It was an expensive and extensive surgery that cost a fortune. They were denied coverage thru the army as the surgery didnt qualify as a necessary surgery. Even with Mr. Dr.s influence as the Armys Surgeon, it was still denied. The Officers salary was not enough to cover the expenses, not even close. As a matter of fact he would face
Spared bankruptcy and deep debt if he was to try to come up with the money himself. Once again my father gladly did the surgery for free. He could not deny anyone, especially when it came to a childs disfigurement which needed treatment or surgery. Perhaps Gita would have gotten by not having the surgery, but when it came to her disfigurement, she didnt stand a chance of finding a good husband. To my dad that was a necessity. I learned later on thru my mother about another very secret detail about this girl. She had been raped by one of her relatives when she was only 9 years old, and had lost her virginity. They were devastated about this news but decided
Spared not to press charges due to the possibility that this knowledge would become public. If that happened everyone would find out that she is no longer a virgin and it would ruin her chances of ever getting married. In the 1970s, in Tehran, there were doctors who would do the hymen repair surgery for a large sum of money for girls who had lost their virginity for whatever the reason. It reassured and proved to the husband that their blushing brides were virgins and can prove it.. My dad refused to do this type of surgery because he considered it immoral. He felt if a girl chose to jump in bed with a man then she should face the consequence as well and did not wish to participate
Spared in this deception. However, he had done several cases because of the fact that these girls were children and victims of rape. I dont think he ever charged any of these families if they were unable to pay. So my father did 2 different surgeries for Gita. One surgery was to repair or reconstruct her hymen and another surgery to lengthen her short leg. The lengthening process actually took more than one surgery to finalize. My father did not charge them a penny. It actually cost my dad money to do the surgeries because he had to use the hospital operating room and pay for anesthesiologist and other personnel to help him do the surgeries. But he gladly paid
Spared those extra costs by himself as he felt he was able to provide a chance for a better life and health. I remember how grateful her parents were for my fathers services. The Officers wife was kissing Mr. Dr.s hands, and crying happy tears. You saved her life doctor. Without this surgery she would have been a freak of nature. You gave her a chance to regain her virginity and once again that saved her from certain shame. You also gave her a gift of walking normal so she doesnt get teased by other children. I wish to god that one day we can repay your heroic kindness.
Spared They brought him flowers and pastry as a token of appreciation. My father said that it was not necessary, Gitas smiling face and straight walk is my payment. Years later after my father passed away, my mother told me that they showed up in my fathers funeral and tried to give my mother some of the money that they couldnt pay at that time, but she refused to take it. They also told her that Gita was recently married and expecting her first child and that she was very happy. Gitas family cried at his funeral as if he was one of their own.
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Sanandaj The happiness of having my mom back was short lived and once again Mr. Dr received orders to move back to Sanandaj after living in Tehran only a year. To me that was devastating news and I could not imagine losing my mother again. My mom was a little skeptical about taking me without my fathers consent, but I was able to convince her by telling her my dad would not even notice that I am not around. That was the truth; my father could care less if I
Spared was dead or alive. My mother didnt ask Neda to go with us for the obvious reasons that Neda didnt even want to visit, let alone move out of Tehran and live with my mom on a permanent basis. Besides my father would never allow Neda to leave his house. With that decision made, I packed up my things and left to Sanandaj in the fall of 1973 when I was 12. Sanandaj was a small town with a 99 percent Kurdish population bordering Iraq. Kurdish people are a nation without a country. They are very strong willed and independent farming and herding community with strong moral beliefs and tight connections. Mixing and mingling with
Spared them is not an easy task. I found it very difficult to adjust as the language was different and Kurdish culture was so different than ours. At school it was also difficult to fit in, as majority of kids were Kurdish and didnt want me in their circle. I also didnt speak any Kurdish which made communication very difficult. Even though most Kurdish children were bilingual speaking Kurdish as well as Farsi, they would be very hesitant to use my language. Their attitude was that if I wanted to communicate with them then I had to learn their language. Most of my attempts to communicate with them failed because they refused to speak Farsi, and expected me to learn Kurdish. I eventually
Spared transferred to a private school and it was much easier to blend in as most kids were children of military officers and doctors and not Kurdish. On one hand I was so happy to be with my mom and on the other I was so homesick and missed Neda, Sayareh and my freedom to do what I want badly. Mr. Dr. and 2 other doctors built a hospital together where they would care for patients in the evening. Mr. Dr. was the only doctor to offer charity surgeries and care for the impoverished Kurds or whoever else who needed it. I would go with him to his hospital and he even allowed me to be present in the operating room but with strict instructions of no touching, no vomiting, and no fainting! It was there when
Spared my connections with him became a lot stronger and deeper as he showed me what a blessing it is to be able to serve and care for someone other than yourself. The seed of humanitarian way of life was painted deep inside my soul. It was in Sanandaj where my need to be a nurse was confirmed, as it no longer was a goal to be a nurse; it was a calling. Mr. Dr. was my idol, my mentor, and my savior. He became the loving father I never had and to this day, not a day goes by that I dont think of him. After a year of trying to adjust to Sanandaj I decided that I needed to go back to Tehran and didnt feel like I belonged there. I couldnt believe that I was trading living with my mom with going back
Spared to living on my own with periods of hunger, freezing cold, and loneliness. My mom told me that I will be welcomed to come back if I ever change my mind. Neda and Sayareh were so happy to have me back and it was like coming back to my own little unusual family all over again. Strange, dysfunctional, neglectful or not, it was my family that I had spend so much time and energy getting used to, and now I couldnt live without.
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CHAPTER TWO Calm before storm.
God allows us to experience the low points of life in order to teach us lessons we could not learn in any other way. The way we learn those lessons is not to
Spared deny the feelings but to find the meanings underlying them. Stanley Lindquist quotes
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High school.
After going back to live at my fathers house again, things were starting to change for the better. Sharifeh was making a turn around and for whatever the reason, she stayed home most of the time. She would occasionally leave town for short periods of time to go and visit her other daughter in her home town. Her endeavors usually consisted of being gone only for a day or two. She never questioned us about wanting to travel to see our
Spared grandmother or anywhere else for that matter. We had an unwritten rule not to question one another about where we were going and simply just coexist. I was an excellent cook by then and even if she did leave town, we were very much capable of caring for ourselves. My father still made an appearance approximately every 6 months. He arrived without any notice and usually left without a good bye, but I was used to this by now because it was very typical of him. My cousin Parisa came to visit with us, and at times she would stay a week at a time. Parisa was in the same age and grade as Neda and together they usually studied very hard. Like Neda she was academically motivated and an
Spared overachiever. Sayareh and I still struggled in high school. Neda was very close to finishing high school and we were raised to not only go to college, but aim high educationally and be better than the generations before. Unlike other countries where the decision to go to school is an option, in Iran, you basically have to have a college degree in order to make any decent money. Without a degree a person is limited to minimum pay, dead-end jobs. In addition, a man who did not qualify to go to college regardless of reasons behind it was not likely to be able to marry a high quality bride. Girls who were beautiful or come from well known respectable families were usually arranged to marry men
Spared who have either wealth or higher education or both. Some students are very smart, but because they have to work to support their family, do not have the time or opportunity to devote 4 years to school. It could be that they may have lost the father or the main bread winner of the family. It is the son who typically assumes responsibility to work and make ends meet, in the event of the fathers death, which means he will not be able to continue his own education. Decision to go to higher education was not an option as far as most people in big cities in Iran are concerned. Your only choice is the major you will pick. In some families children didnt even have the choice of major and were dictated and
Spared expected to become doctors, engineers, or a lawyers. Some parents would force their children to take these majors in hopes of having a better future financially and to increase the status of their family. For example my cousin was forced to become a surgeon and every time I saw her, she would verbalize how much she hates her job and how resentful she was that she had to become a doctor only to make her parents happy. Of course people in smaller towns had different agendas which usually included farming, getting married, and raising a family. Neda definitely wanted to go to college and perhaps either major in Architectural studies, physical therapy or business.
Spared I was certainly convinced that my calling is to be a nurse and had planned to go to a city near the Caspian Sea called Sari. I chose that location because it was so green, tropical and beautiful there. Sari also had a very reputable nursing university. Sayareh was undecided about what she wanted to do, however, she often found the subjects of accounting and math interesting. We all looked forward to a big national test called Konkoor. Konkoor was a test all students had to take right after graduation from high school to determine if they qualify to go to public universities. It was a nationwide test, taking place the same day, same time all over Iran. In Iran there are not enough universities to accommodate all
Spared students; therefore, Konkoor is a process to pick out the best and the smartest. Students have to declare ten choices from the most desired major to the least desired, and based on the Konkoor score, they may or may not qualify for all or any of the desired majors, in the desired locations all around the country. Those who did not get good enough Konkoor scores to go to public universities had the option to take Konkoor for private universities, with very high tuitions, however obviously the cost was something not everyone could afford. When the time came for Neda to take Konkoor, she studied for weeks both days and nights. At the end she took Konkoor the same day and found out that she was
Spared accepted into a private university called Melli University in Tehran majoring in Business Administrations. This was Nedas 2nd choice. High school was the best part of my childhood as I had several close friends and the freedom to do what I wanted. I no longer was haunted by fear of being alone, and anxiety over how to get by from one day to another to survive hunger and cold. With high school came hope of the future and a new era in my life. The name of the high school was Kharazmi and it was an all girls private high school centered in the heart of Tehran and a lot of rich people would send their children to that school. We had several senators,
Spared generals, doctors, and other high status familys kids attending that school. There were many snobs in my classes, but I had a circle of wonderful, down to earth friends. My best friend was Soraya who was in the same class with me since 6th grade. She was a very beautiful but shy girl who had a very distinctive voice. It sounded like her voice never developed into a voice of an adult woman. If you heard her on the phone she could be easily mistaken for a child. Due to this impediment she was always subject to humiliation and teasing. I was always the one to defend her and stand up for her as she was too intimidated to do it herself.
Spared Among my other friends was Leyla, a stunningly beautiful, rebellious, courageous and very funny. She came from a religious, Muslim family with a dictator style of child rearing. She was to obey without questioning or else she was beaten badly into submission. She had a boyfriend called Sina who created a disturbing source of bitterness with Leylas family. Leyla and Sina were in love with each other for as long as I knew Leyla, which was 4 yrs, since she was 12. Sina was a 20 year old nice young man who also was in love with Leyla just as much if not more, and would do anything to marry Leyla. Leyla was so gorgeous that she could have any man she wanted but she wanted Sina. Her
Spared relationship with him consisted of mostly small gaps of stolen time from school when she ditched from going to classes, phone calls, and letters. Her courtship with Sina was very much forbidden by her parents. Leyla was not only a beautiful girl with a beautiful spirit, but she also had beautiful hand writing. She always brought an excuse letter which she wrote herself, and it was easily accepted by the principals office. Her hand writing was so convincing that the principle believed such beautiful hand writing can only belong to a parent and not the student. Leyla took full advantage of this gift, and used it to her benefit by faking sicknesses very often to be with Sina. Leylas parents forbid
Spared her to see Sina for many different reasons. For one thing she was not allowed to choose her own husband and that was up to her parents to arrange a marriage with a suitable man. Another problem was his education. He was not educated beyond a high school diploma which was a huge disqualifying factor for men. To make it even more difficult was his social status. It was much lower than Leylas family and was considered poor and low class. No parent in their right mind would consent to marrying off their daughter to a poor, uneducated man who was not able to even care for himself, let alone a wife and children. His parents had already gone to Leylas house formally asking for this union,
Spared in hopes of getting married, but were they were told that it was never going to be an option. Regardless of all these obstacles Leyla maintained a relationship any which way she could, whether her parents liked it or not. She was deeply in love with Sina. Against her parents consent, she would meet with him, talk to him on the phone and wanted to be married to him, even though she knew it was an impossible request as far as her parents were concerned. Again and again she would be beaten with a belt in effort to stop her from communicating with Sina, but the rebellious in her would carry on, with no regards to how her family felt about it. She was determined that she was going to marry him
Spared whether her family agreed or not, threatening her parents that she will commit suicide if they would stand in her way. Although she was in the same grade as I was, she was in a different classroom from me, but somehow destiny made sure our path would cross and we became very good friends. She had her own circle of friends and so did I, but we always walked together going to and coming back from school because our homes were very close to one another. We were both very strong in both Arabic and English, and during the summer we would go to English fluency classes to better our ability in speaking English. We got to spend a lot of time during summer together and grew very close.
Spared Leyla was everything I was not. I never had the guts she had to stand up against people who tried to bully her, such as her parents. She also occasionally stood up to our teachers and our principle. I on the other hand was very passive and obedient by nature and I liked to blend in rather than stand out. Somehow I think I idealized her and was fascinated with her courage and risk taking. I definitely lived vicariously thru her. Leylas father had punished her for seeing Sina despite being told not to, by beating her with his belt to the point she was black and blue, in hopes of discouraging her from seeing him again. In the United States, this kind of
Spared punishment would have certainly warranted child abuse charges, but in Iran that was just routine parental control. However, after that incident she threatened both her parents that she will commit suicide if they prevented her from marrying Sina. That threat just added fuel to the fire and they forbid her to go out of the house all together. To get even and manipulate her parents, she took a whole bottle of her moms prescription sleeping pills and had to be rushed to the hospital. She survived, and her parents were very scared and remorseful because they realized that they came so close to losing her. After that incident they were so grateful that she survived that they sacrificed a sheep in their
Spared front yard and gave away the meat to the needy. This was a common practice and a way to say thanks to god, when you knew that you came so close to a disaster but were spared somehow. Her parents promised to never hit her again but she was still prohibited from communicating with Sina. They also went to Sinas parents house and told them in no uncertain terms that they will never agree to this marriage and if they cannot control their son from communicating with Leyla, they would have to get a restraining order or sue them for harassment. After that Leylas parents allowed her to go back to school but she was chaperoned by her brother to and from school. The whole reason Leyla was taking this
Spared English proficiency test was an attempt by her parents to send her out of the country to finish college and get her as far away from Sina as possible. Many of the agencies which helped people send their children out of the country required a higher than average proficiency in the English language.
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Spared Farhad Mr. Dr had 3 younger brothers, and Farhad was the youngest who worked for the Iranian embassy in Netherlands for the last 15 years. Since Mr. Dr. basically raised him after their father passed away at a young age, he was very dear to him. In summer of 1976 when I was 16 years old, Farhad came to Iran for a visit. He was a 38 year old sophisticated gentleman who had been divorced from his wife a few years back who was also from the Netherlands. They had a young son together. He was balding a little bit,
Spared but his charm certainly made up for it. When I met him I found myself very intrigued by him. He seemed adventurous, educated and had lived in Netherlands for many years and perhaps had many interesting stories and experiences. This made me intrigued by him, because I on the other hand had never been abroad, not travelled much at all, not even to the other major cities in Iran. I was very fascinated with him, and asked a million questions. He struck me as a gigolo and received numerous phone calls from different women in the Netherlands on a regular basis. I could not understand what he was saying, but I could certainly tell he was flirting as he talked for a long time with the other person on the phone. He
Spared had extremely high energy and liked going out and party all the time to different cabarets, restaurants, discos, movies, or just walking in the parks. My mom and Mr. Dr. kept up the outing escapades for a while with him, but after a while when they were burned out and exhausted to go out anymore, they allowed Neda and I to accompany him. Neda and I gladly went out and enjoyed what Tehrans night life had to offer. In Tehran those days, if you wanted to have fun and had some money to spend, you could certainly have a great time. We ate out at the best restaurants in Tehrans upscale, uptown area, saw a lot of museums, exhibits, and movies.
Spared He dressed himself in the very best Armani suits, smoked cigars, always smelled very good, and drank coffee instead of tea which was very unusual for Iranians. Iranians drink tea from dawn to dusk. One time when we went to see a movie, he was sitting in between Neda and I. In middle of the movie I felt his hand crawl over mine on the seat handle and held it very tightly but gently. I was frozen, confused, but yet very strangely excited with goose bumps all over my body. I had no idea what to do next, or not to do anything at all. I had never been in that situation before and it was all new to me. I was too embarrassed to look at him and continued watching the movie. He caressed my hand and at one point
Spared he picked up my hand and kissed it. Wow, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. My heart was beating so fast, and my mouth was as dry as the Saharas sand. I looked at him, and in the very dim lights of the movie theatre I saw him smiling at me. What is going on? I thought to myself. He is my step uncle and so much older than me. A part of me was screaming to pull my hand away, but a part of me was very flattered that a man of his status was showing interest in me, but it felt so good, I liked it, so I didnt fight it anymore. In United States standards this union is probably forbidden, but in Iran it was different. He was not related to me by blood, only by my moms marriage to Mr. Dr. Many rules regarding
Spared marriage are different and more lax in Iran, an example of that is that first cousins can get married to each other. When he dropped us off that night, I was so confused, but yet giddy, and could not get him off my mind. I asked Neda if he did the same to her, and she denied that he had not. Neda told me that she could tell by the way he was staring at me that there was something going on and was not so surprised that he made the move. I found myself infatuated by him, because he was so different than any man I had ever met. I knew that he was 22 years older than me but this was not uncommon in my country.
Spared The next day when I went to school I told Leyla, Soraya and a few other friends about what happened the night before. They were giggling and laughing, humming the wedding music, and already naming our children that we were going to have. You guys are no help; I need you to tell me what I am going to do or what I am going to say when he comes over to my house tonight. Do I talk to him about it or wait for him to do it? Should I tell my mom, should I not? Come on help me please.
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Spared The problem was that my friends were never in that situation before either and everyone was just throwing out crazy suggestions that were very unhelpful. As a general rule, Iranian girls in my generation in 1970s lived a very sheltered life and our knowledge of sex education, dating, or even where babies come from was extremely limited. I vividly remember a time when I was 15 years old and had a discussion with my high school friends about how and where babies come out of, and after speculating for half hour we concluded that it must come out of the belly button! Making sure girls remained sheltered was a very common practice among parents in hope of making sure we didnt lose our
Spared virginity. So with the advice of my friends I was going to remain silent until he would bring it up himself. Knowing he would come over again that night, I made sure I was showered, blew dried my hair and put on some blush so very lightly hoping my mom would not notice. That night when Farhad came over my heart was going so fast with excitement. He stared at me as if he wanted to say something. At times when no one was looking he would move his lips to say something silently, but I couldnt read his lips. After we had dinner I got up and cleaned the table, just to have an excuse to get away and go to the kitchen to avoid the awkwardness. My mom usually did the clean up
Spared but I told her to let me do it to give her a break. At the end of the night, he excused himself while listening to Mr. Dr.s piano playing and came up to the kitchen and handed me a piece of paper. He also stole a quick kiss on my cheek and left quickly. I opened up the paper, and it had his number written down, and said call me. I couldnt call him for 2 reasons. First reason was I didnt know what to say and second reason was that I was not able to make a call in front of my mom and Mr. Dr. who are usually both present in the living room where the phone was. I decided to call him on my way to school from a pay phone. I ended up chickening out and go straight to school to get more bad advice from my
Spared friends. After school was over, I decided to walk to my moms house instead of taking the taxi, so I can think and clear my mind. Not even 5 minutes had gone by when I heard a relentless car horn. I lifted my head and saw Farhad in his car trying to get my attention. He motioned for me to get in his car, and I agreed without any hesitation. First few moments were very awkward and mostly small talk. I was feeling so shy and embarrassed and didnt know what else to say. He drove to a quiet street and parked there. He then turned around and said: I think we need to talk dont you?
Spared I nodded my head to say yes. Listen, what happened in the movie theatre was not an attempt of a man trying to take advantage of you. It was very genuine. I dont know how to say it, but I think I am falling in love with you. As he reached out and gently grabbed my hands. I think I let out a shallow sigh Ahh I was in disbelief of what I am hearing. Farhad said, From the minute I met you in the airport; I couldnt get my eyes off you and I wanted so badly to hold your hand. I know my age probably scares you, but please
Spared do realize that age has nothing to do with love. Please talk to me, tell me what you think about all this. I am only 16 years old, and you are 38, yes that does concern me a little bit. He shook his head to show his understanding. I also have not even graduated from high school yet, and definitely want to go to college as well. On the other hand, you dont even live here, how are you planning on maintaining a relationship if you live in Netherlands. Besides, I know you are used to the European ways by now
Spared and think we can just date, but you know in Iran girls are not suppose to be dating, how do you expect us to date? Very good points, you are smarter than I thought you were, I give you a lot of credit for your critical thinking. Ok here is what I had planned. Like I said I am not here to take advantage of you, and lie to you just to take your virginity away and leave you like I know some men in Iran do. I promise you I am not like them. I looked like I was listening, but my heart was pounding, and I was remembering all the warning my mom had given me about men who have bad intentions, and are wolves in
Spared sheep disguise. Is he one of them? Oh god I hope not, he looks so honest. I was hoping with your approval to go to your parents and ask for your hand, and do the right thing. Listen, I want to marry you and take you with me to Netherlands. I want you to be my wife. Once you are there you can get your high school diploma and go to college right after. They have wonderful nursing schools there and you dont have to worry about anything at all. I have a very beautiful, large home and make enough money for the both of us. You get to decorate it any which way you wish, and we wont have any
Spared children until you have graduated from college. Does any of this sound good to you? I was getting so overwhelmed and felt like I just got hit with a bus. This information was an overload to my mind.. Oh wait wait wait, not so fast. I lost you 5 minutes ago. You want to marry me? Yes I do. I love your innocence, your bubbly personality, your looks, your body, and your sense of humor. I have been and seen enough women to know that you are the one for me. I want a Persian wife. Now please tell me something. Do you have any feeling for me?
Spared I struggled to get the right words out without hurting his feelings. You know Farhad, I cant lie to you. I really like you, but I cannot say I love you, or at least I dont know what I am suppose to feel like if I am in love. Does anyone know? Never mind. What I am trying to say is I need time to think about it. I cannot tell you yes or no right this minute. Oh of course, I understand. Take your time, think about it. I just wanted to tell you my intensions so you dont think I am here to use you and then take off. Do you mind if I spoke to your parents about my intensions?
Spared No I dont mind, as a matter of fact I feel better if they knew, so I dont have to sneak around behind their back. He smiled and tenderly and softly kissed me on the lips. It felt very pleasant. In the next week he did speak to my parents, and they were elated with that news knowing that he is someone they already know, and can trust. My mom told me to take my time, and it is basically up to me to decide to marry him or not, and no matter what I decide I had their blessings. We were permitted to go out to movies, parks, restaurants, or other places, but I still had a curfew. I cared very much about him, and felt so excited when he would come to pick me up, but I just didnt feel the love. Soon he
Spared had to leave back to Netherlands due to the countrys declining stability and safety, and to make sure he leaves before they close the boarders. The plan was for him to call me every day and talk, and for me to make a decision. I was left to decide if I like to go thru with marriage or not. I felt very overwhelmed with making that decision, and didnt know if anyone can ever be so sure. Farhad left Iran on 7/18/1978.
Iranian Islamic revolution.

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Iran was ruled by a Monarchy style regime for almost 2500 years since the start of the Persian Empire. Pahlavi Dynasty ruled Iran starting with Reza Shah in 1925. In 1941 his son, Mohammad Reza shah Pahlavi replaced his father on the throne on 9/16/1941 who ruled Iran until he was overthrown by Iranian revolution on 2/11/1979. He was the last of the Pahlavi dynasty to ever rule Iran. A typical day in streets of most large cities such as Tehran in 1978 would reveal women dressed very much like women in United States or Europe, with miniskirts, hair
Spared colored and done to perfection, full professional make up and high heels. Men were equally fashion conscious, wearing acid washed bell bottom jeans, button down shirts with lapels showing their hairy chests, and long wavy hair flowing in the air. Streets were lined with high fashion boutiques, best shoe shops with Italian leather and other imported goods, and stores that sold alcoholic beverages with no restrictions or regards to Islamic rules. At night rich people enjoyed lavish outings to cabarets watching singers live on stage, belly dancing, and other entertainment. Shah was spending billions of dollars earned from selling oil to the Unites States and other countries, and spending
Spared most of it for the royal family, Savak which was the CIA of Iran, and armed forces. There was a huge wave of discontent, and criticism about foolish spending of the oil money in careless manners. The Shah was heavily criticized for spending millions of dollars to celebrate the 2500 anniversary of the Persian Empire in Persepolis while excluding people of Persia from this festivity. The efforts to westernize and modernize the country was due to the vision of the Pahlavi dynasty making sure Iran is just as modernized as any other country such as Europe and the United states and not a third world country any more. What they didnt do was to make sure that poor people as well as
Spared wealthy people have equal access to opportunities and money making trades. As a result the rich got richer and the poor got poorer. With that came extreme resentfulness of the poor and religious layer of the society. Religious groups were disgusted of the fact that that women were walking around in the streets half naked, with no regards to the Korans Islamic teachings that dictates women are to be veiled, and away from the world of men. It is a clear violation of the Islamic laws for a woman to display hair or any part of her body to a man or in public and in their view women were living sinful lives enabled and supported by the government.
Spared Shah was criticized for being a puppet for the United States. It was very obvious that Shahs whole existence was being supported by the United States due to the fact that Iran was the biggest, most powerful country in the oil rich Persian Gulf. Another reason why the United States was supportive of Shah was Irans strategic location, sharing a large border with Americas rival, the Soviet Union. On January 9th, 1978 there was a large protest to oppose President Carter visits to Iran and to voice the peoples disapproval of Shah being controlled by the United States. They also demanded the return of Ayatollah Khomeini back to Iran.
Spared Ayatollah Khomeini was a religious leader in Iran who was arrested and exiled to France in 1963 by Shah for his aggressive and relentless oppositions to the Shahs regime. Unfortunately the police made the wrong decision and opened fire to the crowd of opposing protestors and killed approximately 70 of his followers. That was basically what set in motion the start of numerous riots and protests to take place throughout all cities in Iran. As the waves of the protesting and riots increased after January 1978, Shah was getting extremely worried about his weakening stability and security. On November 4 1978, he was reassured that he will receive full military support by
Spared United States in case of direct threats. The nature of protesting soon changed from a few hundred protestors to hundreds of thousands of protesters. Shah reached out to President Carter for support but was told that Iran is not in a revolutionary situation. As a result shah tried a different tactic to deal with protestors He was capturing and imprisoning as many protestors as possible, executing and torturing them in very inhumane manners. Faced with the fear of being overthrown by the hundreds of thousand numbers of protestors, once again Shah reached out to President Carter. Surprisingly was not backed up, and received no help to fight back the protestors. By summer of
Spared 1978 the revolution had gone full blown as millions of people consistently protested in all major cities in Iran. Shah was in a panic and found himself unable to arrest all protestors as there were simply too many of them. Shah tried to cut back on spending to gain back peoples trust but unfortunately that caused large layoffs which only added fuel to fire and made people angrier and fed up. My parents continued to advise Neda and I to stay out of trouble by staying away from protestors and keep to ourselves. Every family I knew had a few members missing, arrested, tortured, or executed. We tried not to get out of the house if it was at all possible. I knew several students from
Spared my school who were already arrested or missing. Every day there were news on the radio and television about bombs that would go off, buildings burned, and sirens were heard all day longs. People were glued to the radio and television to hear the latest news, which was unfortunately always bad news. Most military personnel were fleeing country with their family in fear of the regime collapse and imprisonment. Mr. Dr. though insisted that he was going to stay put in Iran, and has nothing to fear, even if the government is overthrown, because he had never done anything that would cause him to get in to trouble. Rich people were wiring all their money to other countries in fear of unstable government. Inflation
Spared was climbing steadily causing shortage of foods. No one could get fresh produce meat or rice as the import and export trades were all halted. You could see long lines of people trying to buy basic necessities such as milk, rice, oil, and meats. Statically, before the start of the revolution ninety five percent of women in the streets walk around without Hijab or their covers, and only five percent with. However, after the revolution that percentage was reversing to sixty percent with Hijab and only forty percent without. Between my mom, Neda, and I, we were still walking around without Hijab and became subject to those stabbing dirty looks from those
Spared women with Hijab and that was really frightening. That trend was also the same in my high school. I was confronted by several girls asking me if I dont believe in god because I wasnt wearing Hijab. I would just walk away and try not to get in to arguments. Those girls would see no problem with harassing anyone without Hijab and call us names like Devil worshipers. I was at a point that I thought it might be safer to wear Hijab, but then again I might get in trouble for belonging to a religious group, or being one of Ayatollah Khomeini followers. These girls also tried to get thru to you by promising you rewards if you wore Hijab. If you wear Hijab, pray 3 times a day, and live by the Koran rules, you
Spared would be guaranteed a place in heaven. That was the promise given to us by the religious girls. Although I would smile and walk away, I was blown away and surprised to see many of my friends buy in to that. The very same friends who would wore miniskirts and high heels, suddenly would be acting strange by wiping off their makeup, wearing Hijab, reciting the Koran verses, and starting every sentence with In the name of the holy god the merciful, like brainwashed robots. I just knew I had to keep my mouth shut because if I followed the religious groups I would get in trouble and guilty of being one of the Ayatollah Khomeini followers and actively going against the government. If I didnt wear Hijab, I would
Spared be under pressure by the religious groups and called a devil worshiper. It was a no win situation. I just pretended I had no opinion whatsoever. In addition to the Ayatollah followers, there was also the communist party as well as Mujahedin who also tried to lure you in their circle of followers. It was very difficult not to belong to any of these interest groups and just simply exist and mind your own business. The general moods of people were one of disbelief, anger, insecurity, fear, and shock. No one trusted anybody else in fear of getting arrested or executed. There was such anxiety among everyone and uncertainty of not knowing how much worse it can really get. Most people I knew were on
Spared some kind of anti anxiety or antidepressant medication hoping to sooth the jagged edges of their shredded souls being torn apart not knowing what to believe All educational centers from elementary schools to universities started closing up in an effort to ensure student safety. Only a handful of schools were still open and Nedas university, as well as my high school was one of the only places that were still open. My mom was worried about sending us off to school each day, but until we received official orders from the principle to stay home, we had to attend school. The decision to close educational centers also contributed to the number of protestors as they had too much free time on their
Spared hands having no school to attend and no jobs to go to. Even though most of the universities were closed, the grounds were used to hold meetings and gathering of people with different political interests. Luckily our family was not stricken with any deaths or executions, but we had our own share of revolution related mishaps. One ordinary July day, my mom had to go out to run an errand close to Tehran University. My mom was usually overly careful and knew better to change course of her destination if she was to come close to any gathering or crowd, but her curiosity got her in trouble. Mr. Dr. had warned us all about avoiding areas where protestors
Spared typically gather and run the other way if it looked unsafe. On that day my moms curiosity over ruled my stepdads advice and got the better of her. There were a lot of people holding posters with pictures on them. These were graphic pictures of shooting victims from various different protests and demonstrations, made to inflame peoples emotions. My mom got closer to see what those pictures looked like, and that was when a tear gas grenade was thrown in to the crowd by the guards. It was too late for my mom to run and avoid it and as a result she inhaled it for at least 10 minutes before she was captured, hand cuffed and thrown in a police van along with a handful of other protestors. After all the
Spared interrogating, questioning, and examining the arrested men and women they couldnt exactly figure out why my mom was there. She didnt fit the typical protestor profile who is typically yelling, angry, and defiant. She pleaded with them that it is a case of mistaken identity as she was just an innocent standby who got mixed up with the protestors. She tried very hard to not mention that she happens to be the wife of an army general in fear of causing shame and disappointment to Mr. Dr. After interrogating her for a while, my mom started having heart problems, which finally led them to release her. However, she was told if she was ever arrested again she will go straight to Evin. Although we all
Spared knew this, we kept it a secret from Mr. Dr. My mom was so humiliated by this incident and she also realized how easy it is to get in trouble. In the fall of 1978, Neda was still at school, and had planned to come to my moms house in the afternoon. We were watching TV, listening to the latest news on riots and protesting like we did every day, when we saw on television that a group of protestors at the Melli University where Neda was attending, were beaten, and arrested. Instantly my mom went in to a panic mode, and already assumed that Neda is either in Evin prison, beaten, or killed. That was a very typical behavior for my mom to always assume the
Spared worse. I could somehow relate by thinking until Neda shows up at the door, how anyone can say if she is dead, injured or alive. I tried very hard to calm her down trying to reassure her that Neda is just fine and possibly on her way home. All my mom could do was pace up and down our living room, and pray for Nedas safety. There was a heavy, uncomfortable silence and tension in the house. I knew my mom pretty well and I knew that it was not a good time to challenge my moms anxiety as she could get very irritable and irrational. I somehow believed that if I stayed calm and acted normal it would help my mother, so I stayed in the living room, sitting quietly and watching TV, hoping to hear
Spared something positive. Neda was supposed to arrive at 2 pm, and when that time came around and Neda did not show up my mom opened the door and stood there hoping she would see Neda any second now. She decided to walk towards the main road where Neda was supposed to come thru. She didnt want me to go with her. After 20 minutes she came back alone in an obvious terrorizing panic with tears rolling down her cheeks. There was no Neda. Mr. Dr. tried to calm her down. Honey, please dont jump in to any conclusions, you know if there was protestors, that means streets will be a mess with traffic, and she wouldnt be able to get home any
Spared earlier. The bus she rides to come home might not be able to get thru the crowds. So see, this is to be expected, said Mr. Dr. while rubbing my moms shoulder. Please dont tell me how to feel, I have this really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I know something is wrong, I just dont know what it is, please dont mind me. Said my mom. Television was giving us minute by minute updates and of course more bad news about the students involved in the protest announcing that so many are injured and many have been taken in custody. This meant the Evin prison. Once
Spared anyone makes it to Evin, there is very little hope if they ever get out, and the strong possibility of torture and interrogation. The clock rolled to 5 pm, and stills no sign of Neda. My mom had already called all of Nedas friends and classmates homes and surprisingly no sign of them either. They were all missing. Talking to the other mothers only confirmed my moms hunch about very bad news. One of the fathers of a classmate who was Nedas best friend Mahnaz had taken his car to go to the university searching for his daughter. He was a Jewish man, and his name was Mr. Yebri. It seemed like a crazy idea knowing that soldiers usually block roads leading to the universities and do not allow anyone go any
Spared further. This was done whenever there was any protesting going on to be able to arrest the ones involved. That was why Mr. Dr. didnt do the same. The fear of Neda being an added statistic in death roll, or lying in a ditch, or held against her will in Evin prison was climbing. I could see the veins on the side of my moms forehead bulging and pulsating. Eight oclock rolled around and my mom was going out of her mind. In hopeless desperation, she was sitting on the floor and praying the Islamic way, making deals with god. She was praying about giving so much money to the charity if Neda comes back home unharmed, she would donate so much money to the needy. By ten oclock my
Spared mom looked like she had lost all hope as she was sitting in the living room, crying quietly and staring at the television, but I dont think she was paying any attention to the news. Tension was high and each of us tried to cope a different way. Mr. Dr. and I were also sitting there quietly, and no one was saying anything to anyone, as we were all suspecting the worse, and didnt really know what to say. Suddenly bright head lights combined with screeching tires of a car which stopped right in front of our house, snapped all of us out of our coma like silence. We all jumped out of our chairs and went outside to see what that is all about. What we saw was the car belonging to Mr. Yebri,
Spared helping Neda out of the car. Neda looked like a zombie, and had to be pushed and dragged to force her to walk. In the car I could see at least 6 or 7 other students. He was in an extreme hurry rushing to get Neda to us. Please forgive me for running; I have several other students to take to their worrying parents before I go to my own house. Just to let you know, finding these kids was not easy. Some were hiding in street corners and some were simply trying to walk home, including your daughter. Please call my wife and tell her that Mahnaz is ok and we will be home about an hour or 2 after I drop off everyone else.
Spared Yebri We learned later that Mr. Yebri went north as far as he could to reach the university, but eventually had to park his car and walk the rest of the way. Melli University is in the farthest north side of Tehran, and was at least an hour drive from our house. So we knew he must have walked a long way. Unable to find anyone, he returned to his car, and started looking for them in all streets until he spotted Mahnaz and Neda walking down the street. Mahnaz and Neda looked dazed, scared, and walking. Neda was obviously in a shock and acting very strange. She would not respond to any verbal commands. She was restless, combative, and screamed all the way in the car ride as if she was being
Spared attacked by invisible soldiers. When the protesting broke out in the university, Neda and Mahnaz were in a classroom but soon had to get out as the soldiers were firing tear gas in the buildings. As they got out, they were faced with full blown combat between protestors, and soldiers. There were numerous soldiers who were hitting protestors with batons, and students were throwing rocks at them. There were no guns or rifles, but people were still getting hurt from the blows of the batons. One of the students named Afshin, who was Nedas good friend, was a 13 year old genius. He was throwing rocks at the soldiers when he was hit in the mouth with a baton, and lost most his teeth, and bleeding profusely.
Spared After witnessing that, Neda was obviously traumatized and was screaming uncontrollably. That was when Mahnaz knew that she had to get herself and Neda out of there and run and hide. Knowing a way to the back of the university, they were able to get out to the residential side streets and started their walk home. They got rid of their books, so they would not be identified as students. Neda was quiet and not screaming anymore, but looked very traumatized and not saying a word the whole time until they were found by Mr. Yebri. Happy to finally found them alive and mostly unharmed, he headed home. On the way Mahnaz asked her father to stop the car as she recognized more and more
Spared friends walking down the street as well. He gladly stopped to pick them up as well, as he knew if found by the soldiers, they will go to Evin prison, guilty or not. It was a miracle that they got out of that protest at all. Later on we heard many of Neda classmates ended up in Evin, and some disappeared and never returned. My mom was beside herself to have Neda back. Her body was back but her mind was somewhere else. She was basically untouched, but looked very pale, staring in to the horizon, and not answering any questions. Since it was late at night, we decided to put her in bed so she can sleep it off, hoping tomorrow would be a better day. After putting her to
Spared bed we sat in the living room and thanking god about how lucky Neda was not to be dead or arrested. I soon went to bed myself, but I could hear my mom and Mr. Dr. talking for a long time. My mother was saying: Thats it, she is not going to go back to the university until all has settled down, and the country is stable and safe enough for students to go back to school. Honey I dont know if you are really fully aware of the gravity of whats going on, but this upheaval and protesting is not going away, as a matter of fact, its only going to get worse; much worse. Neda is a very smart girl, and has
Spared always been a straight A student. She will have a bright future given the opportunity for adequate education. If you really want her to have that opportunity, we need to get her out of the country to Europe or the United States before they close the borders for good. Boarders will close, guaranteed, it always does in similar situations. Said Mr. Dr. After a short while, he continued: It would be total injustice for Neda not to go thru college considering her excellent academic achievements that she has shown so far. I also dont want her to get killed next time she steps foot in her college and her safety is very important as well. Universities are centers for upheaval
Spared recently. I think you are right, lets make arrangements for her to get out the country while the boarders are still open. What about Nastaran? Are you thinking about her as well? Should we think about sending her as well? What are you plan for her? said Mr. Dr. Well Nastaran is a different child entirely. Although she is my daughter and I love her dearly, she is not as smart as Neda and she is not going to miss anything if she didnt go to college at all. To tell you the truth, I think we are lucky if she even graduates from high school. I can see her getting married in the near future and starting a family and be a
Spared happy mom. She was born to be a housewife, not a college scholar. Oh no honey, I disagree. Dont underestimate Nastaran. She may not be getting the best of grades or have any academic excellence, but her passion for nursing is undeniable. I truly think that Nursing is her calling . You should see how pumped up and excited she gets when she follows me around the hospital and begs me to let her do more. She is so interested in the science of medicine. We owe it to her to nourish the calling in her, which is nursing. Said my Mr. Dr.
Spared Wellif she really wants to go to a Nursing school that is ok with me, but she can do it right here in Iran. She doesnt have to go to the United States to do that. Besides I want at least one of my children to stay with me in Iran. I cant have both of them gone and if I had to chose, with a little chuckle in her voice, Nastaran would be the one to stay back with me because we are so much closer to each other. I do understand if you dont want to send both your children out of the country. I really recommend that we send Nastaran to go to English proficiency classes to get her ready in case things got so bad here that she had to be sent out of the country as well. If not it is always good for her to
Spared learn the English language at a higher level. Neda does not need that since her English is already at a higher level and her college does not require the proficiency course. I was blown away and heartbroken by their remarks about me. I am so hurt that they were talking about me as if I was dumb. Do they really think I am that bad? It was interesting to see what my parents thought of me when they think I cannot hear them. I appreciated the way Mr. Dr. stuck up for me, and even more than that, I loved that he believed in me. I think that was the first time I had ever known anyone who believed in me when I didnt even
Spared believe in myself. Instead of being upset, I chose to be happy and celebrate the fact that I am good at something. I knew that I didnt want to leave the country and I still had my heart set on going to nursing school in Sari. In the next few days, Neda woke up every 10-12 hours screaming and combative. My dad would give her a valium to calm her down and my mom would make sure she drinks something before she fell asleep again to avoid getting dehydrated. It took about 3 days before she woke up and stayed up She finally started to respond to us talking to her. It was a sigh of relief for my parents and me. We had an agreement not to ask her any questions unless she wants to
Spared share. She eventually did tell us what had happened in details, but she preferred not to talk about it ever again. Neda was excited about the idea of leaving the country and soon we started the process of getting a passport and a visa for her to go to the United States. She was brushing up on her English and was elated that she can actually choose her major instead of having to settle with the one given to her by the University system in Iran. Mr. Dr. tried to talk her out of becoming a physical therapist because of the fact that it can be very hard on your body, especially a womans body. Another discouragement was that its a low paying job, compared to other fields in the medical field and he
Spared wanted Neda to be able to earn enough money so that she does not have to rely on a man for financial security as so many other women do in Iran. Mr. Dr. had some family in New York who agreed to have Neda over and watch over her until she gets signed up with a university and can live in the dorm. We had a goodbye party for Neda and invited all Neda friends and most of our family. Soon after that we learned that Nedas friend, Mahnaz had plans of leaving l to the United States as well. Her sister lived in Los Angeles and she planned on staying with her until she could start college. They were a Jewish family, and felt that if the Shahs regime fails and if Ayatollah Khomeini will be the new
Spared elected leader, life would be very difficult in a fanatic Islamic society. As a matter of fact Mahnazs whole family planned on migrating and moving away together. On September 2 1978, Neda left the country to United States. It was a very sad day for all of us. First I was happy that I dont have to put up with Neda and her grumpy attitude anymore, but soon I found myself missing her, but it was too late, and I never got to tell her how lucky I was to have a sister like her.
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Martial Law (Sep 1978) I continued to go to school as well as going to English proficiency classes. Our school was determined to provide education to every student and to stay open as long as possible. My mom didnt like that but she also didnt want me to just stop going to school as protesting was not typically common in high schools. My closest friend, Leyla and I were walking to our high school one day. Leyla and I usually met up a few blocks away from school where her bus
Spared stop was and walk the rest of the way together. I would usually walk up to that point from my house. I preferred to walk instead of going in to a stinky bus or a taxi full of passengers. At times it was common to get pinched or grabbed by men in a crowded bus or taxi and you wouldnt know which one of the many men did it or which man to blame. It just seemed easier to walk to school even though it was a very long walk, approximately 2 miles, I would rather so that than ride public transportation and get molested in public and not be able to do anything about it.. We were griping and complaining about the fact that almost all schools in Tehran are closed except for ours and
Spared how unfair it was to still go to school. Our teacher had told us regardless of what happens we were coming to school, rain or shine, bullets or tanks. One block away from school we noticed that the road was blocked and there were no cars going by which was very strange as it was a very busy intersection. The only cars going by were military trucks, jeeps, other military related automobiles, and police. A guard was standing there with a very large rifle and I could see he also had a 9 mm on the right side of his waist and a baton on his left. Wow, what is happening? They are carrying rifles and guns now? I thought to myself. Up until that time, soldiers only carried batons and it was frightening
Spared to see they are carrying big, intimidating rifles. He was wearing a khaki uniform with big black boots and his khaki cap said Army. I slowed down holding on to Leylas arm to slow her down also. Dont go so fast, I dont think we can go past him, the whole street is closed I said with a lot of uncertainty in my voice.
No, dont worry; the road is closed for cars, not for kids like us. Besides you heard what our teacher said, we have to be there, rain or shine said Leyla.
Spared Dont you think that even the teachers wont be at school with this road block, so lets just go home, please...? I said trying to plea with Leyla. No its better to get to school and be told to go home, than it is to prove we even showed up today. Come on dont be a chicken. Have some courage girl said Leyla. I thought to myself why is it that Leyla is usually the brave one, and I am the coward one? Leyla was known to take big chances as she was a risk taker and it made her parents very concerned and mad. It was obvious that she got a certain amount of satisfaction out of being rebellious.
Spared My parents, especially my mom, had advised me on a daily basis not to do anything against the government guards and the police and basically lay low and obey what they tell you so you could be safe. The soldiers were ordered to take anyone into custody who is working against the government and my parents didnt want me to give them any excuses to throw me in jail which would surely lead to torture and even death. Several students we knew as friends and their relatives were arrested and thrown in the infamous Evin prison for things they didnt even do. They were accused of being a communist or belonging a political party other than our own government. Everyone knew what kind of brutal
Spared prison Evin was. Evin was nestled in the in the inner suburbs of North Tehran and famous for cruel and savage torturing of the political prisoners. Anyone who would talk, plan or act against our government would be sent to Evin prison and most of them would never be back again. The rumors of whipping with metal cables, electrocuting, nail pulling, rape and group execution was known by everyone. It was the governments goal to make it known to everyone that Evin will be the consequence of anyones action for any political movement. Most of the prisoners never saw the daylight again and were executed after months or years of torture. Majority of these prisoners were young high school
Spared or college students. My Mom always told me when approached by people who are trying to get you to join their political party, just walk away and basically do not have an opinion. It is better to lose a friend than it is to lose your life, my mother said. I remember having daily encounters with students who wanted me and my friends to join their political parties. They wanted us to attend meeting and gatherings, promising that political party can change things for good. I would always say no thank you and walk away.. If I even saw a girl approaching me, I had learned just to start walking the other way, just so I would not be confronted by an
Spared invitation to join a group. It was hard, as I had gone to school with these girls for years, and sad knowing what life threatening risks they are taking for their political beliefs. If I had just been seen talking with these people would be enough for me to be accused of going against the government. Just a few weeks before, Shideh who was only 17 years old, a student in my high school, was taken out of her 12th grade class room by several guards. She was kicking and screaming trying to avoid being taken away. She was slapped, kicked, dragged by her hair and humiliated in front of everyone. When our principle tried to intervene she was
Spared told to stay out of it for her own good and if she interferes she would be taken in and thrown in prison herself. They announced that Shideh was under arrest because she was an active member of the communist party trying to poison other students in to her communist web. They warned all of us that if we get involved in any political party, we will take you to Evin as well and you will never see your loved ones or even the daylight again. They also said there would be more arrests to come when they find out who else is involved, and if Shideh refused to talk, then they will torture her until she does. I feared because Shideh had come to me before asking me to join the meetings belonging to her communist
Spared party and I had told her that I was not interested. I wondered if being seen talking with her would cause me to go to Evin prison too. That thought was too frightening to even think about. I never told my parents anything about how Leyla and what a risk taker she was; otherwise they would prohibit me from being friends with her for good. Leyla didnt have any strong political opinions; she was just mouthy, and rebellious with any authority figure. I really enjoyed my friendship with Leyla and didnt want to be told not to ever see her again. She was everything I never dared to be and was living vicariously thru her.
Spared We proceeded to cross the yellow barricade that was stretched from one side of the street to the next. Ignoring all the signs that said Do not cross and Road closed and ducked under it when the guard was looking the other way. Hey, what do you think you are doing, are you stupid or blind? Get the hell out now, said the guard with a very angry voice yelling at us. I got very frightened and ready to shut up and flee, but Leyla was not affected the same way. She stood up in front of the guard with a lot of attitude and confidence in her posture and both hands on her waist.
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Spared We have been told that no matter what happens we have to go to school and how dare you call us stupid. I bet you havent even finished high school yourself. Who is the stupid one now? said Leyla in a sarcastic tone. Oh lord, we are dead. I thought to myself. That was really stupid of her to do that, but knowing Leyla it didnt surprise me at all. She was known to get in to risky arguments with our teachers, her parents, even with our principle and any other authority figure. From the look on the guards face, I could tell he was very angered by what Leyla said. He had knots in between his eyebrows and his eyes looked like an angry bull ready to charge. That was
Spared when the guard reached for his baton, took it out of his belt loop and slammed it into Leylas back. I knew the guard would get angry but I really didnt think he was going to hit her with such force in retaliation. Leyla let out a huge scream and fell to the ground and was moaning and squirming. My blood was boiling, and I was worried sick about Leyla. I lost it when I saw her in so much pain and went up to the guard who was much bigger and taller than me. I dont know where I got the courage, but I knew I was very angry and I was trying to stand up for my friend. Are you an animal? I said shouting and raising my hand to him in protest. He was standing there still holding
Spared the baton, and before I was even finished with my sentence he slammed in to my right hand and pushed my hand out of the way with his baton. I felt and heard my thumb crunch, but didnt hurt at all immediately. He pushed and shoved me on the ground next to Leyla. Now both Leyla and I were lying on the ground staring at him above us looking like he was not done with us yet. He bent over looking right in to my eyes. Just like a slow motion film we saw his right hand go up raising the baton and got ready to bring it down to hit both of us again. I knew it was going to be bad, and we were going to get hurt by this vicious guard. As he was bringing the baton down, I was thinking and praying as fast and as
Spared hard as I could, to figure out a way to get out of this. My god please dont let us get beaten in middle of the street by this wild animal. I quickly shouted out Im General Nooris daughter as I blocked my face with my arms to avoid getting hit by the baton. I felt like my mouth was saying things without me controlling it. Was that me who said that? Once again I could see in slow motion as he tried hard to stand himself up, and grabbed his right hand in the air with his left hand to stop it from coming down, and hitting us. The baton came so close to my face and then it made a detour and went back
Spared up again. His face looked like he just saw a ghost. He stood there holding the baton on top of his head. What did you say? said the guard with fear in his face. Up to that point I was just holding my breath waiting for the baton to hit me, so I let all my breath out, swallowed, and said I am General Aram Nooris daughter, who is also an orthopedic surgeon, the director of Tehrans army hospital. He threw his baton down on the ground as if it burned his hands. Quickly he grabbed our arms and picked us off the ground and I could tell he was very scared and nervous. Leyla looked so relieved and confused at the same time, but
Spared you could tell her back was badly injured. He must have apologized a hundred times about this terrible mistake and said that he would do anything to make that up to us. My father was a very influential man being one of the generals in the army, but he was also a very kind man who had helped many poor people as a doctor and a humanitarian. He had done countless free surgeries for the needy. It was very obvious that he recognized my father as his superior and was badly shaken up and sorry knowing the consequence of injuring me, the generals daughter. He brought us into a khaki colored army tent and asked us to just relax and he will be right back. The tent was
Spared opened to the street, so we felt safe. I contemplated with the thought of running away and if it was necessary at that point. However, Leyla and I were not in good shape to run anywhere and it also felt like the worst part was over. Looking out the tent opening, I could see the travel agency with colorful pictures of London, Paris and the Eiffel tower and New York. Advertising for tours were all over their window. This place was very familiar to me as I walked right by it every day to get to school. In the tent there were wooden boxes full of long golden colored bullets and big black rifles and some small ones too. I wondered what kind of firearms these very long bullets go with as they looked
Spared large enough to kill an elephant. It was mind boggling to imagine how many people these bullets can kill. It dawned on me that they werent just planning on scaring people away and they must be willing to kill the protestors if they have to. Wow that was a very rude awakening for me to realize that protesting is a very serious and dangerous thing to do. There were also gas masks and other protective gear they must have needed to fight back protesters. There was an old wooden desk, with chairs around it. On the desk there were several walkie talkies that went off every few second and we could hear guards talking to each other about what was going on the streets. There was also an
Spared ashtray full of cigarette butts and a note book. The whole tent smelled like men with dirty feet, and sweat. The nosy side of me wanted to get up and explore, but the pain in my thumb was slowly getting worse as the adrenaline was going away in my system. My whole thumb was inflamed and swelling and I knew it was broken. Leyla was not doing that great herself either as she was moaning continuously. My thanks To General Noori and you Nastaran, you saved us. Im so glad you remembered to mention who your dad is. That was genius. We could have been killed by that idiot guard and no one would have known. I have heard stories about people who mysteriously disappear and their
Spared families never find their bodies because they would throw your body out somewhere where nobody can find it, and . Leyla was going on and on, but she was interrupted by 4 men arriving in to our tent. There was one man who looked to be a much higher rank than the guard that was beating us, and 3 other soldiers, including the vicious one right behind him standing in a salute position. At ease Said the officer to the guards, and they dropped their saluting hands and stood there in attention pose. My name is officer Najafi, and I am sincerely very regretful about what happened today. I cannot begin to tell you how sorry we all are about this really unfortunate
Spared incident. The guard who attacked you will be properly punished and we will make sure the 2 of you get home safely by army provided escort. I will personally apologize to General Noori myself, and hope that he can forgive the ignorant guard. As soon as officer Najafi mentioned General Noori the guards would salute again. I could not help but feel so sorry for the guard, even though he caused us such physical harm. I certainly didnt want him to get punished too hard. The vicious guard was told to go and get ice for my thumb and for Leylas back. Before he left the tent, he asked us if we wanted to be taken
Spared to the hospital or not and we said no because we just wanted to go home. I will call General Noori for orders as to what he would like us to do at this point, take you both to the hospital or take you home. So I will leave you now and will make a phone call to your father myself. He told one of the 3 guards to stand in front of the tent for protection. A different guard brought us 2 plastic bags with crushed ice in it. He also brought us 2 cups of tea with some cubed sugar, and placed it in front of us on the old table. We never touched the tea, because we were more interested in the pain relief the ice pack provided. I helped Leyla place the ice between
Spared the chair and her back and lean on it. I just held the ice pack against my thumb which by now was in a lot of pain, swollen and blue looking. After about twenty minutes or so, Officer Najafi came back into the tent again and turned to me.
I just got thru speaking to your father, General Noori and explained this mix up and the unfortunate situation and he gave me orders to take you to his place of work to personally examine your thumb as soon as possible. The General would also like us to make sure your friend is escorted home by the army jeep as well, unless Miss Leyla
Spared would prefer for her back to be examined as well. Are you both ready to leave now? Oh that sounded like such relief to be going home finally. I looked at Leyla to see if she is OK with that plan and realized there was no word exchange necessary. She had yes written all over her face. Leyla had a smile from one ear to the other but she did say that she was not in need of any medical help and just wanted to go home. She forgot all about her bad back and held her purse and back pack and looked like she was ready to jump in the jeep. Well we didnt waste any time and before we knew it we were in the army jeep driving away in the deserted streets of Tehran until we
Spared came to the end of the road closure. The traffic on the other side of the closed road was ugly and cars were honking at each other and taxi drivers yelling out at the other cars and lots of profanity was flying in the air. In midst of all this craziness there were people trying to get from one side of the street to another and zigzagging in front of the cars making it even harder to get by. Everyone seemed mad and stressed out, a lot more than usual. The stress of closing a major junction was creating havoc on people. At that point the driver activated the sirens and flashing lights to get thru the thick traffic. The siren sounded like the police sirens,
Spared was very painful on our ears and was very loud and obnoxious. I was dropped off first at the hospital where my dad worked since the army hospital was closer. Leyla was then dropped off to her house next. I wished I could go to my house also but you didnt have to be a doctor to know that my thumb needed immediate attention. I was escorted to my dads office by the soldier who was also the driver of the jeep. We passed thru a squeaky clean hall way with vaulted ceilings in the reception area. It was so big that you could hear our footsteps echo. Then we passed thru another hall way with numerous rooms that had different plaques on the
Spared wall by the doors for identification, such as doctors/colonel, doctor/major general, doctor/Lieutenant general, and many more. We finally made it to my fathers office and that was when I realized he had the biggest office in that building. As we arrived the soldier who escorted me, stood in a loud boot clicking and salute position. Mr. Dr. was on the phone when I got there. He gave me a sign that Ill be off the phone in a minute and motioned the soldier at ease and leave. The soldier turned one step back clicked his boots together again and left. I had hardly ever gone to visit his work for any reason and was blown away by his office and how impressive yet intimidating it looked
Spared because of how organized everything was. There was a picture of Shah hanging on the wall behind his desk. On his desk I could also see pictures of my Mom, my sister and I in the corner nicely framed. It made me feel so very special to see that I made it to his very important desk top. There were other items such as Iranian flag, a black rotary phone, as well as a red phone, big pile of papers, and a plaque that said General Doctor Aram Noori. His office was simple yet elegant with beautiful furniture. In the left corner of his office there was a coat hanger which held his long black military coat with 4 shiny golden stars on each of the shoulders. They presented the Generals insignia on his coat. His coat
Spared nicely hung on a wooden hanger in the corner of the room. Right above it sat his military hat with a shiny black plastic looking material in the front of it, which also had the same 4 shiny golden stars as well as a round golden button that had the lion holding a sword with the sun behind it. The lion and the sun were also visible on our flag at the time of shah, which represented the emblem of Persia dated back to 1423.
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His office walls were covered with his so many credentials of his medical Doctor degree, his surgeon certification, his orthopedic surgery specialty certification, and all his medals nicely framed and hanging. There were also numerous ranks that he had earned before he was a general, framed and hung on the walls also. It was amazing
Spared to see all the certificates hanging on the wall were equally spaced apart as if someone purposely measured all the distances. My father hung up the phone and gave me a bear hug. Im so sorry to hear what happened today, and sorry I wasnt able to warn you about it, because you know I work as the director of the army hospital, and we are usually not the first layer of authority to get notified of these things. Lets look at your thumb now said Mr. Dr. with such tenderness in his voice. I cant see a thing in this lighting, why dont we go to my examination room. It is around the corner, you have never been there have you? said my father.
Spared No I have never even been in this building before. It is very cool to see what it is like, and it is so impressive how soldiers mind you. I said to Mr. Dr. He gave me a big smile as we left his office. We continued walking thru the same squeaky clean hall ways with shiny cement floors, and plain white walls. Every time someone passed by us they would stand saluting and clicking their boots. The noises of clicking boots were echoing everywhere, and my dad would motion at ease by nodding his head frequently. We finally reached the medical building, and after passing many more saluting soldiers we finally got to his examination room. He asked me to stay while he gets out of his uniform and in to
Spared his lab coat. I sat on the patient table just fascinated by all the stuff in his exam room. There was a big glass cabinet which was about 5 feet tall that held some strange jars which were fluid filled, full of things which I could not clearly see from that far. I jumped down and walked closer to see what those things are and was blown away by what I saw. There was a preserved fetus in a fetal position which seemed to be very premature measuring only two inches. There were also jars with much smaller and younger fetuses floating in the same yellow fluid. Another jar was holding a huge yellow rock looking object which was approximately the size of 3 baseballs stuck together. I immediately recognized
Spared what that was and where it came from. Mr. Dr. had once surgically removed a kidney stone for a poor farmer in Sanandaj who had no money to pay for the surgery. He was rejected by several other doctors because he didnt have any money to pay for the operation and was left to die. He was unable to work and lived in severe pain every day. My dad gladly took the patient under his wings, performed the surgery for him for free, and the only thing he asked for return was the kidney stone. That kidney stone was one unusual and incredibly large stone, and he just wanted to keep that. I witnessed my dad interacting with the same patient years ago, but never got to see what the kidney
Spared stone looked like. He even gave plenty of money to the poor farmer to live on until he was back on his feet. He knew the farmer would be unable to work for a while, and he was the only bread winner in his family of 10. In the same glass cabinet he also had samples of osteoporotic femur bones cut in half length wise, which looked like it could easily break, as well as a healthy femur bone for comparison to encourage his patients to eat more dairy product, and increase calcium intake. There were also a few antique items such as a very large syringe made of metal and glass, dated back to mid 1800s, which used to be boiled and reused on all patients. The needle was so large
Spared and scary looking. An old black leather doctors bag which looked cracked and heavily used, an old rusted stethoscope, old water pitcher and basin which I had only seen in the western movies were also taking up space in that cabinet. I was so mesmerized by seeing all the stuff in my step dads exam room that I almost didnt hear my dad coming back with his male technician. Mr. Dr. had changed in to a long white lab coat, but I could see he was still wearing the same khaki army pants. I sat back on the exam table and my dad started to examine my thumb. So how is my dear daughter handling the pain of the broken thumb? Said Mr. Dr. as he was examining my thumb
Spared by moving it back and forth. Ouch, please dont move it, it hurts really bad when you do that, and how do you know its broken any way? I said to Mr. Dr. He looked up at me as if thinking to himself Hello! Im only an orthopedic surgeon and a specialist, thats all! Of course I know how to spot a fracture when I see one, leave that part to me to diagnose and fix you up really good and you just sit back and relax. Besides it is a hair line fracture and it will heal quickly. Does Mom know anything about what has happened to me today? I asked Mr. Dr.
Spared Oh no, are you kidding me? You know how upset she gets if anything happens to you girls; especially after what happened to your sister at her university. She freaks out at the slightest risk for danger or anything that concerns you girls. At times she doesnt even have to have reason to worry about anything but still she worries about things that have not even happened yet. Ill have the driver take you home once I fix your finger. That way it has all been done and she will worry less said my father. Mr. Dr., you may think I am weird, but may I please ask what will happen to the guard who hit us? I know he shouldnt have beaten us with his baton, but somehow I still
Spared dont want him to be severely punished. He was doing his job after all, and I fear what will happen to him I said to my dad. You know, you do have a big heart and I appreciate your forgiveness spirit for this guard. Still it is the armys duty to see to it that he gets some kind of consequence for over reacting and putting your lives at danger. That kind of beating was not at all necessary considering you both were high school girls, with no weapons or no threats to anyone. But dont worry I will make sure he does not get any punishment he does not deserve.
Spared I thanked him and in less than an hour I was all braced and bandaged up and was taken home by the driver. My heart was racing because I knew how mom can react, and hoped for the best as I rang our bell. My Mom opened the door, and as soon as she saw my finger she freaked out. Oh my god in heaven, what happened to you? Did you get into any protesting? Who did this to you? How are you? Are you hurt anywhere else? When did this happen? I told you not to even get close to these protestors, you can get killed or sent to Evin prison and Ill never see you again. I have to call your father. said my mom as she was going
Spared on and on 100 miles an hour, spiraling down the negativity and anxiety path. I had to grab her by her shoulders and say, Mom, please calm down, Im OK, this is nothing bad, I am coming from dads office where he fixed it for me. Leyla and I accidently got to this area which we were not supposed to go, close to the high school and the guard attacked us. Please dont over react, dad is working on that already and I am fine, I really am. It is just a minor injury. Can you please breathe a little slower and calm down?
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Spared My moms face looked a little bit more relaxed and I helped her sit down as I went to the kitchen to get her some cold water and a hot cup of tea. When I came back from the kitchen I was surprised to see my Mom crying and hiding her face so I could not see her tears. It was pretty obvious that she was crying. I sat down and tried to see what I can do to make her feel better. I wanted her to know that I am listening if she wants to talk. Mom, I know lately, with all that has been happening with Neda and I today you must be feeling very insecure. There is not much of anything that we can do to change the situation, but is there something I can do to make you feel
Spared better? Are you sad because Neda is gone or are you just scared about me? Is there anything else that you want to talk about? Mom started to cry out loud and opened her arms for a hug. I went over to her and hugged her. She finally stopped long enough to say Losing your sister was very difficult, even though we didnt get along much I know she will never come back to live in Iran. I just know it. Im also thinking perhaps I have to send you out of the country as well. Tehran is just not safe for anyone to be. I want you to get a good education and you cant get that if you stayed in Iran. I fear the day someone would tell me that you had gotten killed in these damn demonstrations.
Spared Mom, you talk as if Neda is dead, she is just gone temporarily to get a better education and she will be back before you know it. Please dont talk like that. I understand you want me to go out of the country as well, but I really have my heart set on going to Sari and get a degree in Nursing from the Mazandaran University of Medical Science. Please dont send me out Mom. You dont know how much I want to get a nursing degree and work with Mr. Dr. Please Mom. I said trying to stop my mom from worrying and change her mind from sending me out of the country to finish my education.
Spared I would love to have you stay here with us, please dont get me wrong, but as a mother I also have to protect you. I am not willing to keep you in Iran if it gets any more dangerous than it is already. Please understand my position as a mother. OK mom, whatever you say, but at the same time please understand my hopes and dreams of going to college in Sari as well. Your hopes and dreams are important to me also. What I want you to do is pass the English proficiency test just in case things get so bad and I have to send you out of
Spared the country. You know they only take students who have higher than average scores in English. Please do this one thing for me. Even if you didnt end up leaving, it would be great for Konkoor. OK mom, I will do that. Mom was smiling again and I was reassured that she is feeling much better. I was going to try to help and stay home as much as possible. That same evening it was announced on TV that now all educational centers from kindergartens to universities were finally closed indefinitely, with no exceptions. Private classes and test centers remained open
Spared to public. My first reaction was elation; this is the coolest thing that could have happened. No school was music to all of students ears. But after a while when we all got tired of playing around, sleeping in, and other activities, we started looking for something to do. My friends signed up for a varieties of different classes such as knitting, typing, cake decoration, learning different languages, and sewing to battle the boredom. Somehow the knitting and cake decoration did not seem so appealing to me. So with the persuasion of my mother I signed up for an English proficiency test to polish my English. My mom wanted to make sure that I will be able to have a smoother transition if I
Spared had to be sent out of the country like Neda was If the situation got worse to continue my education out of the country. Knowing how to speak English was more important than knowing the grammar and many agencies who helped parents find colleges abroad were requesting to have the English proficiency certification. That was the reason my mom and Mr. dr. were so adamant about taking this course. We were learning all bout English grammar at school, but were not really strong in conversation. This class was designed to strengthen English conversation skills. The course was about 4 weeks long, and I had my final tests at the end on 9/10/1978.
Spared After closing all educational centers, the country was turned upside down, and massive protesting waves filled every street of large cities in Iran. The tactics that once helped to fight back demonstrations and rioters was no longer working, so shah had to do something else. Shah tried to practice a different tactic to show people he is a fair and understanding shah. He ordered the release of a few political prisoners from the Evin prison in hopes of calming the demonstrations down and gain back peoples trust. However that only irritated people after hearing what atrocious tortures has been done to him and other prisoners. Then shah fired the head of the Iranian secret service,
Spared Savak, and also promised people that we will have free elections in the following month of June, which did very little in appeasing the public. In midst of all this there was an incident where 400 people were trapped and burned to death in a movie theatre in an oil rich city called Abadan in the south of Iran. Although the responsible party for the murder of those 400 people was never found, somehow people blamed shah for that, which added to fueling of the hate and disgust. After that even more people were out in the street shouting Death to Shah. Shah was getting more and more defeated by the ever growing waves of demonstrators not only screaming Death to shah, but
Spared demanding that Ayatollah Khomeini to return to Iran, and be the new leader. This was definitely a slap in the face for shah. Discouraged from any help from United States, shah found himself in the corner, and in desperation he did the only other thing left to do, which was to declare Martial law in Tehran and 11 other cities late in the evening of 9/7/1978. Declaring Martial law made any protesting against the government illegal and punishable by use of deadly forces. Gathering of any groups of more than 3 people in the public was prohibited and punishable by on the spot execution without trial. Martial law is usually declared at the time of war or whenever the civil authority is broken down. Military was
Spared reinforced with as many personnel as possible to deal with any upheaval with maximum aggressiveness. A part of shah was confident that Martial law would be an end all tactic, because he had declared Martial law another time in 1953 over increasing oppositions of anti shah and anti United States forces. It proved to be effective then as it put an end to the upheaval at that time, and he was hopeful it will be effective again. They also declared a curfew for all the major cities as well. They warned people, anyone going out after 8 pm and before 5 AM will be subject to being killed on the spot execution style as well. Other than military forces or the police no one else is allowed to be out at night for any
Spared reasons. Road blocks were set all over Tehran to help monitoring people in every street corner, even in the residential areas. On Thursday 9/7/1978 I had my final class session for English proficiency program, and our final test was set to be on Monday 9/10/1978. However, due to all the protesting there was reason to fear that they would be forced to close the institute. Most educational institutions were forced to close, and they worried that they would be next. A decision was made to have the final test the day after which was Friday morning, September 8. It was unusual because Friday is the weekend for people in Iran, but due to the
Spared uncertainty of being shut down forced them to make the decision to stay open on Friday and ensure all students get their certifications. That night we heard the news on the television that the country was under martial law. Mr. Dr. already knew it was going to be announced and told my mom and me a few days back about it. In an effort to relieve our anxiety, he explained to us that it basically discourages and prohibits people from getting into protesting by punishing any groups of 3 or more. I had never heard of that, and neither did my mom and we were both frightened. We all huddled around the television with our eyes glued to the screen in an amazement of what is happening to our
Spared country. This was history in the making. The announcers were speaking very seriously discouraging people from challenging the system, by saying: This is not a joke, this is for real, anyone who will be out in the streets other than armed forces, authorized personnel, or the police, will be captured and executed without any trial. Hour by hour, news came on the television reminding people about the Martial law and the curfew, and threatening people not to take that lightly. I remember the window in my room was open to the street, and I went to close it since it was already dark outside. My mom came in the room to see what I was
Spared doing. To be funny, I stuck my finger out the window, and told my mom: Do you think they will shoot my finger off if I stuck it out the window because of the curfew? Get your finger back inside. Are you crazy? Why would you do something like that? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Did you not hear that this was a very scary and serious situation to be in? I was just kidding mom, really, didnt mean to make you upset.
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Spared Some things you just never joke about and this is certainly one of them. Said my mom as she exited the room still looking upset. I closed the window in a hurry and went back to the living room and tried not to cause any more trouble. I could tell she is really upset and worried about me. My mother said, Oh my god, I almost forgot, Nastaran has her final exam tomorrow before she is certified in English proficiency course. What is she going to do? Do you think it is ok for her to go or should I keep her at home?. Honey, the only way she is going to get herself killed is to and join some political party or protesting against the
Spared government, so dont worry about it. We both know that Nastaran is not like that, and has no ambitions of putting herself or her family in jeopardy. You know that this exam is very important and if she goes straight to the class and come right back she will be alright. The curfew will not be in effect until 8 pm, everything will be ok Mehri. Said Mr. Dr. with a reassuring smile on his face. Then he turned to me and said: Remember to mind your own business; dont even talk to anyone in the street, and dont worry about being rude. As soon as the class is over, get a private taxi and come
Spared back home immediately. I nodded my head yes, but I was so very scared of being in the public for any reasons. But I am so scared; do I really need this certification? I mean, I already know all the material. You can test me on that, is it really necessary that I take the final exam? I said with shaky voice. Yes, it is absolutely necessary, because you have to prove that you know all the material and you need to get that certification. Besides, if this regime is going to be defeated and the situation gets more unsafe, we need this certification to get you signed up with good schools. If you dont have
Spared the certification you will be very limited on the number of schools who will accept you. Said Mr. Dr.
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CHAPTER THREE Black Friday (Sep 8, 1978)
Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself, and know that everything in life has purpose. There are no mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings
Spared given to us to learn from. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross quotes
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Spared
Zhaleh Square. I woke up at 5:30 in the morning of September 8, 1978, to take my English proficiency test. As I rolled out of bed, I envied all the students who were still in their nice warm beds and didnt have to take this stupid test. I guess it was something to be proud of and I reminded myself to be happy and grateful about it. Not everyone had the skills to pass this level of proficiency. My mom was still asleep and I was hoping she would not wake up because she always had
Spared problems with insomnia and would usually toss and turn until 2 or 3 in the morning. However, as I was getting ready to go out of the house my mother woke up as well. She always had to say a few prayers before I left, and that day she said a few more than usual. I was not familiar with the location of the testing place, as it was different than the class location and in a part of town I had never been in. I knew it was in downtown, in the south of Tehran which was an industrial and fairly poor part of town. I am not sure anymore if this is a good idea to send you out of the house today and I know I wanted you to make sure you have your certificate in English, but I am really
Spared worried about you. I just dont have a good feeling about it My mother said with so much anxiety in her face. Mom dont start that again, Ill be fine, I promise Ill take a taxi straight to the place and come right back as soon as the test is done I really promise to be safe. Please dont worry yourself too much, I replied, trying hard to give her all the reassurance I could. Mom was a well known worry wart who worried about everything and anything, so this was a normal routine for me. My mom had the ability to foresee the future either by dreaming about it or just have a strong gut feeling. We all
Spared knew she had certain dreams about something bad happening and the dreams were accurate, so she relied on her dreams a lot. She had every right to be worried. There was a revolution taking place in the whole country. Radio and television announced daily shootings, explosions, and executions on a daily basis. Just a few weeks back the Rex Cinema incident took place killing 400 people, so she did have justifiable reasons to worry about. Mom was pacing the floor and ringing her hands and reciting a prayer and then blowing air in my face, which was a very religious gesture. This ritual is done by filling your mouth with air as you recite the verbs and prayers from the
Spared wholly book of Koran which was in Arabic, and sending it to the receiving party by blowing the prayer filled breath to the face of the receiver. This was to protect me from any danger throughout the day. She did this almost every day before I got out of the house, but more so that morning. I must have been blown in the face four or five times. It is ironic because she was not a religious person, but when it came to worrying, she utilized everything and anything making sure we were protected. I really wanted to tell her to stop it now, I think you are overdoing it, but I didnt have the heart, because I knew she meant well. In a way it reduced her anxiety more than it actually gave me protection, so I let her
Spared do it as many times as she needed to. She grabbed her wallet, and gave me a big lump of money. It was more money than the usual taxi money, and she insisted that I get a private taxi for both going to, and coming back. Anyone is able to get a private taxi by yelling out Private taxi when you see a taxi cabs go by. There is usually a crowd of people who are each yelling out their destinations to the taxis that are passing by slowly, but by yelling out Private taxi it is almost a sure way to get a taxi fast, and you are sure to pay at least triple the price as well. Having a private taxi also assures you that no other passenger will be picked up along the way, and you have the whole taxi to
Spared yourself. It was worth it for my mom to pay more to get more reassurance. Finally I was able to leave the house. My mom followed me to the street curb never stopping her Koran recital. As I was walking away I could still see her mouth moving and blowing. I was relieved to finally leave because I was getting very frustrated with my moms anxiety. I put on the sweater that I took with me as it was very cold that morning. I knew I had to hurry up as the test started at 7:00 AM. It seemed like the sun was just slowly waking up just behind mount Damavand snowy peak, and as she rose she illuminated the entire city of Tehran with her warmth, and bright light. The city looked so breath taking and
Spared peaceful at that very moment. It was hard to believe that our country was going thru such turmoil. Mount Damavand is a dormant volcano, and the tallest peak in Iran, as well as the highest volcano in all of Asia. Damavands snowy peak is visible all year round from anywhere in Tehran. Damavand is 15,312 ft tall. The crisp, fall, morning air blew into my face, and caressed my hair gently off my face. As much as I hated waking up that early, I always enjoyed it. There was something magical and full of hope in the air. Everything was so fresh and new as if nature is giving everyone a
Spared second chance to do things right and is given us a chance to have a better day than yesterday or the days before. It felt so good and it gave me goose bumps. It reminded me that winter snow will follow soon. Tehrans elevation is 1200 Meters which is equivalent of 3900 feet, and we have the perfect four seasons. Snow fall usually started between September and October. The sound of hundreds of sparrows flying over my head snapped me out of my thoughts. I lifted my head and saw them all flying in a group to migrate to a warm destination, which was so very pleasant. During migration, sparrows would usually all fly together for a while and then all choose a certain tree to sit
Spared on. You can see literally thousands of them sitting on one particular tree chirping in an ear piercing fashion. After 10 or 15 minutes of rest on the branches of trees, they would all fly away again. It was yet again another reminder that cold winter is on its way. A part of me was still very fearful of the martial law and how it has affected the situation out in the streets. Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary, except for the number of military guards in the street. As I approached the main street I had no problem getting a private taxi. I tried to review my test material in the taxi to cram as much as possible before the test. Soon I had to stop reading because I was getting car sick. I would get
Spared car sick so fast if I ever tried to read anything in the car. So I cranked open the old back seat window of this orange colored taxi cab in hopes of not getting car sick. The cab stunk like old cigarette butts, so I need the window down. I watched the streets go by out the window in order to take my mind off the car sickness. I was watching the venders in the street finish setting up to sell their goods. Some stores were just opening their roll up metal shutters that blocked the entire store at the closing time. The fruit stands were laying out their fruits right out of their store into large containers on the side walk. They would promote their items in a loud voice trying to outsell the competition. Big, plump and juicy
Spared oranges, straight from Shahsavar yelled a vendor (Shahsavar is a town in the North of Iran famous for its citrus fruits. Another vender would yell out: White fish, white fish, flaky and delicious straight from the Caspian Sea, you want it, and we got it. Wow, I was amazed of how early people are out there trying to earn a living. I felt very grateful and spoiled after seeing how hard they work. From the corner of my eyes I could see the taxi driver staring at me in the mirror, but I knew better not make any eye contact with a strange man, as it is a sign that I might be
Spared interested. I just kept on looking outside and pretend like I didnt notice. Pretty soon we found ourselves behind a very large public transit bus that was forcing a huge cloud of black smoke up in the air from its exhaust. I had to pull up my window to avoid that. The usual air pollution in Tehran was bad enough, but the smell of cigarette butts was still more tolerable than the smoke from the bus. Cars, trucks and busses were not regulated by the government enough to ensure cleaner air in Iran, and as a result the air pollution was a real problem. I could tell that we were getting deeper and deeper in to the southern part of town, and the look of buildings and people was starting to scare me. I had never
Spared been to that part of town before. We finally approached Zhaleh square, and I knew I had to be close to my destination, because I was told this place was just off of Zhaleh square. It took us about 45 anxiety provoking minutes to get there. Here we go said the ugly looking taxi driver as he stopped the taxi. Are you sure this is the right place? I dont want to be lost! I said with quivering voice. I also showed him the address written on a piece of paper. He pointed to an old 4 or 5 story tall building that had white marble exterior which
Spared only covered thru the 3rd floor. The white marble looked as though it had seen many years, and the smoke from all the cars going by it had stained it to almost a darker grey color. Yes this is it, you wont get lost, I live around the corner from here and that building is where young folks like yourself go to take English lessons. Said the taxi driver, smiling mischievously at me showing his black and yellow unbrushed teeth, as he checked me out. I got very grossed out by his teeth, but I paid him the fare money and approached the dirty old building. There was graffiti on the walls of the building that said Death to shah in black paint. It was obvious that they had tried to cover it up with red
Spared paint, but it was still pretty clear what the graffiti words read. I went upstairs to the 3rd floor, and was able to check in and find my classroom very quickly. I was surprised to see lots of other people in every floor of the building, but had no idea why they were doing there on Friday which is supposed to be the day off. There were a large number of highs school age boys on the 2nd floor, which made me think that they may be having the English proficiency test as well. The class I was enrolled in was for girls only, and it made perfect sense that boys had their own class on the 2nd floor. Once I was checked in, I found Leyla very quickly who was also taking the same test, as I entered the class room. I was so
Spared happy to see a familiar face. She looked like she was sitting in an awkward position as if she was in pain, but soon found out it was because of the back injury caused by that vicious guard who hit her with a baton a couple of weeks ago. I laughed and made fun of her for sitting in such crooked way, and thought it was hilarious, but in reality I was just so happy to see a familiar face. You are laughing at me? What about you and your fat thumb, it seems like the kettle is calling the pot black, ha ha ha ha. said Leyla carrying on and made fun of my broken thumb in a short hand brace my dad had put on for me which was broken by the same vicious guard.
Spared Soon we were told to sit down; our teacher was on his way. Our teacher was an old boring man whose breath stunk like cigarettes. I was hoping that I pass this proficiency test which was supposedly so important in my preparation for Konkoor as well as an effective gate opener if I had to leave the country. I was pretty confident that I was going to do well as English was one of my best subjects and I had studied very hard. The tests were handed out and I was trying my best to concentrate. That was not an easy task as my mind wanted to fly away to fantasize about being a nurse with my white uniform and my little white cap, feeling great, making great money, and living in my own house.
Spared Aaaaahhhhh that was so vivid, but I felt a hard kick on my chair that snapped me out of it. It was Leyla trying to wake me up as she knew I daydreamed a lot. I started looking at my test material, and was extremely happy to see I knew the answers to almost all of the questions. The air was so fresh and the window to the street was wide open. The breeze felt so good, and I went thru the questions with a grand sense of victory. I looked over to Leyla, and could tell she was doing great as she had a big smile on her face too. First hour went by without any problems and we were told to stop the test for a break. Leyla and I proceeded to go out in the hall way, and realized
Spared that they had a very small kitchen on the same floor that sold hot tea and small pastries. We bought 2 cups of tea, and sipped on it as we compared our questions and answers. Leyla had purposely answered all questions wrong in order to be disqualified for leaving the country to continue her education. She wanted to stay in Iran with all her might despite her parents persuasion to send her out and away from Sina. Nastaran, what do you think we are going to do with our lives? Are we going to be college girls or married soon? I want so much to be married to Sina, and I dont care if I ever go to college or not as long as I can be married to him. Im
Spared sure Ill get a zero in my test said Leyla giggling away as if she was very happy and proud of it. My parents think they are so smart by forcing me to take this stupid test, so they can send me out of the country? Ill show them. Itll be fun to see their reaction when they see I got a score of zero said Leyla with a sarcastic deep seeded anger in her voice which she has been harboring ever since she was beaten with the belt. Leyla, Im not agreeing with your parents, but what do you think you guys are going to live on even if you were to get your parents full blessing, and marry him today? He
Spared does not even have a job, how is he going to support you? You are barely out of high school yourself, you need money for everything, have you thought about those things? All we need is love, and I dont care where we live, and what we eat as long as we are together, that is all I want. Besides I know he is really smart and will get a good paying job soon. If I told you a secret would you promise never to repeat it to anyone? And I mean anyone? said Leyla with a serious tone in her voice, and fear in her eyes. That was very strange as I had never seen any fear in Leyla before. Yes I promise, what is it, tell me
Spared Sina and I have decided to run away together to the south of Iran and get married. I heard the rules for marriage are a bit more lax down there. He paid someone to make a fake birth certificate for me showing I am 18 years old, so I cannot be tracked, found or stopped. I let out a loud AH in disbelief, and then covered my mouth in fear of attracting anyones attention. You have really lost your mind this time; do you know what a crazy idea this is? It might be a crazy idea, but my parents have left us no choice at all, and I cannot live without Sina. If I have to
Spared runaway to ensure I will be able to marry him, then that is what we have to do. As soon as this stupid test is done, I am going to get ready to sneak out of the house tomorrow night. We have tickets to a bus that leaves at 5 am. Promise me even if they came to you asking if you know, you have to act dumb and say you had no clue. You promise? I nodded my head yes, but deep inside I didnt know if I can actually lie to her parents. I felt guilty and confused already worrying that by lying to her parents about her whereabouts, I would be contributing to this conspiracy. Then Leyla took something out of her side pocket to show me, but she looked around and made sure no one else was
Spared watching. She had a card like picture of Virgin Mary in her hand. Marys face was painted beautifully on the card with her eyes closed, and she has a halo around her head. On the same card there was the Hail Mary prayer written in English. Ok, please just listen until I am done talking. I know what you are thinking, but please just listen to me. I have an Armenian girlfriend who is catholic. She swears that whatever she has ever prayed for, has came thru if she repeats Hail Mary prayer 7 times a day for 7 days in a row. I know I am a Muslim, but I dont think god minds if I pray to a holy woman like Virgin Mary. I dont think god minds if I like
Spared being a Christian more than being a Muslim. My friend said her parents were fighting all the time, and finally decided to file for divorce. After saying the Hail Mary for 7 days, they got back together again, and decided not to get a divorce. Remember when my brother was hit by a car? Doctors told us he may end up on a wheel chair for the rest of his life. I put the prayer to work and he walked out of the hospital on his own feet. No crutches or wheel chair! It really works Nastaran, it is amazing. I have been praying for 7 days now for a safe and good outcome after I run away. I am nervous, but have faith that it will be ok, and we will finally be together.
Spared I have to admit I was very skeptical, but believed in the power of prayers myself. I was just very scared for her and couldnt see how god will help you to do the wrong thing. She had told me about the fact that she likes being a Christian but her parents would have killed her if she admitted to that. Sina knew that and supported her in practicing whatever religion she likes to follow. He had bought her a cross for her birthday, which she was very good at hiding. I had heard so many bad stories about girls just like Leyla who run away from home in the name of love, only to be found later raped and killed. I knew this was an argument no one can win with Leyla, even if god itself came
Spared down to earth and told her she was making a big mistake, she would tell god that he was wrong about this one. She was so blindly in love that she refused to consider any one elses view, logic or wisdom on this issue. I couldnt stop thinking about the consequences of running away she will have to face. A man with a very loud voice in the hall way announced that we should go back to the testing rooms now. We drank the rest of our tea quickly and ran back to the classroom. As we entered the class room again, we could hear a humming sound coming from the streets below which was very familiar but frightening to me, and it was very typical those days. It
Spared was the sound of people demonstrating in the streets. I could tell this humming noise was coming from a very large crowd of people who were reciting political slogans against shah and his regime. The level of noise was getting louder, and all the students were piled up on top of each other trying to see if they can watch whats going on thru the classrooms open windows. Leyla and I wanted to see whats going on also, but there was no room to get a glimpse. Our teacher told everyone to get away from the window and sit in your assigned seats, and passed the test papers to us. After everyone was back in their seats, he closed the windows to help us concentrate on the test, but the humming was
Spared getting louder and louder, as if this crowd was very close to our building. There was no way we could concentrate, and everyone seemed distracted and worried. Soon we could hear the helicopters flying above also, and police sirens going from almost all directions. Military guards were on their speakers telling people to stop the demonstrations, and scatter. At times it was not clear what was being said over the speakers, as the sound was buffered by people shouting, helicopters flying, and explosions going off. It was very difficult to concentrate on the test, but we all did the best we could. The sounds of demonstrating people, helicopters,
Spared and occasional screams and shouts were not only getting loud, they were getting more violent and extremely scary. I had seen several demonstrations on the news before but it is very different when you hear it so close by. As the students tried very hard to concentrate on the test, I could see the look of concern on our teachers face, as he paced back and forth, and looked out the window frequently, and that meant to me that we are in serious trouble. Suddenly the sounds that were so vivid and loud, were getting quieter, as if they went passed our building, and with that came a little sense of comfort and security. I let out a big sigh, and thanked god that whatever that was has gone passed us, and we are no
Spared longer in middle of chaos and danger. I had cold sweat on me, and I noticed that Leyla also looked as white as a sheet holding on to the Virgin Mary card in the palm of her hand. We could still hear the crowd humming, but they sounded much farther away. No one was concentrating on the test anymore, and we all were frozen, and just stared at each other with uncertainty. The teacher could care less that no one was paying any attention to the test it seemed, and was no longer telling us to concentrate. Lets take a few minutes and say a thank you prayer to god for sparing us, and considering what is going on, we may have to postpone this test for another day, but I dont
Spared want anyone to leave just yet, it isnt safe out there said our teacher. I said a quiet prayer for our safety, and also prayed that my mom would not hear about this on the news, because I knew how worried she gets about me. She was already scared before I even left the house in the morning. I could not imagine how she might feel if she hears about this on TV. My mom had a bad heart, and the last thing I wanted to do was to cause her more anxiety or stress. The whole class was quiet, and in the prayer mode and the peace and quiet felt very soothing. Most students looking down with their hands held together and praying quietly. All I
Spared could think about was to get the heck out of there as soon as it is safe and hurry home. I was in the midst of all my thoughts of gratitude when suddenly we heard a huge exploding bang, and the door to our classroom was kicked open. Three hostile looking men holding batons shouted get out the class room now, or we are going to burn down this building, get out now These were the protesters who were pro the Islamic regime. They looked very angry, scary, unkempt, and had big bushy beards. My heart must have skipped a couple of beats, and all my blood rushed to my feet. I could hear that all the other classrooms were kicked open as well, and the screaming
Spared students were fleeing the building in a stampede fashion. Everyone in my classroom got out of their seats, heading to the door. Our teacher first looked like he was going to confront the angry protestors, but soon after hearing the commotion in the building he realized this is not something he can stop, and headed for the door as well. There were several more angry protestors in our building making sure they get everyone out and in to the street. This was a popular tactic that was used, to beef up the crowd in the street, whether they wanted to be in the protest or not. My mouth was so very dry and I could hardly breathe. I looked over to Leyla and saw that she looked like she was in a
Spared panic. Everyone was running out the door including our teacher, but Leyla was frozen and glued to her chair crying hysterically and hyperventilating. Even though I was terrified myself, I knew I had to be strong for Leyla, and I was the only one who could help her, besides there was nowhere to run to, it was chaos everywhere. Leyla you have got to get up now, please stop crying, these crazy men look very serious and will set the building on fire, please Leyla please... I said as I was begging her to get up, but Leyla was still frozen stiff and wouldnt get out of her chair. I grabbed her
Spared hands and pulled as hard as I could, but all she did was scream and scream louder and uncontrollably. From the corner of my eye I saw one of the mean protestors come back in to the class room again holding his very large baton, and very angry to see us still there. My heart skipped another beat, and was anticipating the worse. Get the hell out now; are you deaf or just stupid? said the Islamic protestor as he swung his baton at us. The baton hit me in the lower back, and threw me on the ground. As the pain ripped thru my body, I let out a huge howl. I didnt dare to say anything else, in fear of getting beaten
Spared again. Leyla on the other hand started to scream out of control when she saw me get beaten, and the protestor slapped her really hard and told her to shut up and get out. She got knocked out of her seat and on the floor she flew. I tried to get up and helping Leyla up at the same time, but the back pain was so overwhelming which caused me to drop Leyla. Feeling helpless and frightened to death, my tears started to flow, and by then Leyla finally stopped screaming and got off the floor also, and we both proceeded to run towards the staircase holding on to each other. The stair case was jam packed with hysterical people, and I tried to think real hard how I can get out of there and make it home.
Spared At that time escaping seemed to be an impossible task to achieve, because I didnt even know how to get home even if we got away. I was not familiar with that neighborhood at all. I felt like my lower back was on fire, and was not able to bend much at all. My ankle also got twisted when I slipped on one of the stairs as I got pushed by the crowd, but Leyla pulled me up so I dont get crushed. At this point both Leyla and I were both crying very hard. I could see most other people were either very frightened looking, or crying as well. As we approached the first floor, we could see that there were 2 exit ways. Almost all the students were exiting the back of the building and most of the teachers and the
Spared revolutionary people were exiting the front. I figured either way has to be OK, but my heart was telling me to go to the back exit, but we were unable to do so due to the thickness of the crowd. I know now that if we were able to exit the back way, things would have turned out very different, and our destiny would have changed completely. But that was not what destiny had planned for us that day. We finally got out of the building, and I was so happy to be out of there. I thought once out of the building I will make a dash to the side streets and hide until this is all over. As we were climbing down the last set of stairs, and exited the front door of the building, I realized the magnitude of our
Spared problem. There were easily tens of thousands of people who were going toward the Zhaleh square, and there was no space to move or change directions. It seemed like a sea of people. Ninety-nine percent of the crowd was made up of angry looking male protestors who were reciting the revolutionary slogans. Every once in a while you would see someone who was like us and didnt belong in the crowd. Im sure they were caught up in the crowd just like we were. There were a few women dressed in all black chador which is an Islamic cover that covers a woman from head to the toe. They looked just as hostile and angry as the rest of the protestors. I wished I could have gotten out the back way,
Spared but wishing was not going to get us anywhere, and my destiny was already in progress. We wanted to go the opposite direction of where the crowd was leading us, but all the shoving and pushing did not help change directions. At one point we turned our bodies around in an effort to go the other way, and were literally picked up by the force of swarming crowd like sardines in the can, and continued to approach Zhaleh square backwards. That was giving my back excruciating shooting pains and I had to turn around again. I almost lost Leyla, as she was being sucked away to another part of the crowd. We struggled very hard to get back to each other, and crossed our arms as hard as
Spared possible. Leyla was frantically trying to pull her left arm to look at her hand, and once freed, she opened her hand and started screaming as she stared at her empty hand. Oh my god, no, I lost her, I cant believe I lost her What are you talking about Leyla? I yelled. I lost Mary, she is gone, oh god why, she was our only hope, what are we going to do now? She howled and cried over losing her Virgin Mary card that till then she was holding on to with all her might. I felt very bad for her because it was so obvious that it was a
Spared source of hope and security for her, and without it she was feeling very vulnerable. Please dont lose me Nastaran, please, please stay with me, I am very scared, please dont let go of me She said with tears running down her face. I turned to her and noticed that there was a very red and vivid hand print on the left side of her face from when she was slapped earlier by the vicious protestor. I am scared too, and I wont leave you, we only have each other, and well be OK, just hang on tight, and dont let go no matter what happens OK?
Spared Leyla produced a fake smile and shook her head to say yes. She seemed to be a little bit calmer and hung on to my arm for dear life. Our feet were barely touching the ground, and we were being carried towards Zhaleh square, hoisted up in the air. Even though it was a cold and crisp day, because of the thick crowd, and being rubbed against peoples sweaty bodies, it felt like it was as hot as hell. I was feeling suffocated and felt like I could not get enough air in my lungs, as I was being squashed against other people. At one point when the crowd seemed to be a little bit looser, our feet were touching the ground again, and I was actually walking, even with a sore back and swollen ankle. However
Spared it wasnt loose enough to change directions. I almost tripped over something and lost my right shoe. I looked down to see what I tripped over, and what I saw made my stomach turn. The crowd opened up slightly to avoid walking on this lumpy obstacle. The obstacle was the dead bodies of a man and a woman who must have been peasants from far away villages judging by the colorful outfits they were wearing which was mostly soaked with blood and dirt. Every one tried not to walk on them, but some people unavoidably walked over them including myself, and I could hear the crunching of their ribs and other bones as people walked over them. They were almost as flat as a pancake, and
Spared blood was coming out of their ears, mouths and noses. I had never seen a dead body before, and seeing one in such horrific shape was very harsh on my heart and soul. Images of those dead bodies etched permanent marks in my brain. To this day I still dream about those flattened bloodied bodies every once in a while. I had a cold chill all over my body, and suddenly I could no longer feel the burning of my back, or the pain from my ankle or my broken thumb, which by the way had lost its brace somewhere. Somehow my pains seemed very unimportant in comparison to these innocent people who got crushed to death. I was thinking to myself that those unfortunate couple must have spent all
Spared their life savings to come to Tehran in hopes of better paying jobs to support their family, just to get crushed to death. Seeing them was weighing so heavy on my heart. I had to snap myself out of it or I could be the next one to get crushed too. Once again the crowd got much thicker as another wave of people joined the crowd that we were in, and were suddenly in the middle of the Zhaleh square. Zhaleh square was a round shaped area where 4 roads would come together. The noise level was so overwhelmingly deafening, which added to the level of terror, and helplessness. There was usually hundreds of cars going thru and around the
Spared square every day, but on that day there were no cars at all, and filled with people instead. There were office buildings all around the square, which housed variety of different businesses. There were some private businesses as well as government offices. There were also 2 major public bus stops, and you would usually see several lines of people trying to get in to the busses. I wondered how many of those innocent people got stuck in this mess. On that day I could not see any busses at all, just massive waves of protesters. There was a movie theatre just off of Zhaleh square, and you could see advertising posters of the movie Star wars being played on the walls of Zhaleh square. Zhaleh square was
Spared wall to wall occupied by people. I could see hundreds of people looking out of every window of those offices, and down at us. Some of them were shouting slogans synchronizing with the crowd, and some just speculating. Oh how I wished I could be one of those people just watching what was going on as a spectator, instead of being mixed up as a protestor participating it. I am only 5 feet 2 inches, had no shoes on, and was shorter than most people in the crowd, and I was getting strange looks from these protesters, as if they were thinking what are these 2 frightened looking girls doing here, this is no place for a woman to be. I would yell Can you please let us out, to
Spared whoever was looking at us, but no one would answer back or opened up the way. Everyone I pleaded with seemed to have this angry and disgusted look on their faces, as if I just insulted them by asking to be let out. Perhaps they viewed me as a coward for wanting to escape and get out, or perhaps they simply could not hear my pleas. Some were too busy to pay any attention to me, as they were simultaneously yelling and reciting the slogans, and holding their fist up in the air in protest to shahs regime. I was not able to see the whole crowd and how far there were people, but judging by the sound of it, it seemed to be perhaps tens of thousands of people. I could also see
Spared posters of Ayatollah Khomeini, held by hundreds of men, wearing dress like Kafan sheets. Kafan is a cream colored fabric that is used to wrap dead people before they are laid to rest. These outfits had slogans written on them, such as Martyrs never die. They all carried long banners with anti shahs slogans written on them. Some of these slogans read Down with shah, Down with Imperialism and Communism, We will not stop until victory is achieved, Final victory is Islamic Republic, Death to shah, and We surrender only to Islam. Every once in a while I could hear explosion like sounds coming from different directions followed by a crowd of people screaming. I learned later on
Spared that there were cars being set on fire and as the gas tank would catch on fire it would eventually explode. It sounded like a bomb went off every time I heard that. The nauseating smell of burnt plastic or tires was in the air everywhere. I felt like I was drowning in the sea of men. There were no other women near us that I could see. We had finally stopped walking and had come to a stop.. I knew that our proximities were in middle of the Zhaleh square. We were caged by several men all around us packed against each other, so close that I could feel their body temperature and smell their breaths. These men, who would under any other circumstances, rub against you for a stolen moment of
Spared pleasure, looked completely stone faced with nothing on their mind except to defy, confront, defeat, and conquer, even if it meant dying as a result. The gravity of what I was up against finally sank in and I started believing that this must be it and end is near. Suddenly the afternoon smoke filled haze was blocked by a cloud of helicopters and the noise they were making sounded like a thousand fans or 20 passing trains. These helicopters came out of nowhere it seemed and were at a standstill hovering over Zhaleh square. Leylas long hair was blown in the air and covered my face. I spit the hair out of my mouth, and looked up and saw there were at least 12 helicopters flying low just above
Spared us. I could see military soldiers with their rifles pointing at people. It was so surreal and I was wondering if all this was real or am I dreaming. I looked over to Leyla to see how she is handling all this, because she seemed to have been very quiet for the last few minutes. That is when I noticed a blank look on her face. She wasnt even looking up to see where this horrendous noise was coming from. She had completely checked out, but she was still maintaining a strong grip on my arm. I decided to let her be, because there was no point snapping her out of it, as there was nowhere to run or hide. At least she looked like wherever her mind had gone, it was a lot more peaceful, safer and
Spared happier than the present in middle of Zhaleh square. I wished I could check out too and join her, but no such luck. That seemed very ironic, because she was always the brave and fearless one, and now that she really needs to be brave she checks out? I could hear a strange noise coming from all corners of Zhaleh square but since I was so short, I could not see a thing. I tried really hard to stretch my neck out to see what this noise was, and was finally able to see. The whole Zhaleh square was surrounded by enormous looking tanks, with huge gun barrels pointing at the crowd. This looked like the most horrifying scene from a Vietnam movie except I
Spared was living it as the main character. It was not a movie, there was no popcorn. This was reality! What must have been a short time seemed like an eternity. Finally the voice of a military man coming thru the speakers from up above could be heard loud and clear, despite all the yelling and screaming made by the revolutionary crowd. Even with all the incredibly high noise level, it was loud enough to hear what they had to say. The whole city of Tehran is under martial law. You must scatter away now; you must go away if you dont want any harm done to you. We have orders to shoot and kill, if you resist.
Spared I felt so happy to hear that because I thought anyone with half a brain would listen and go away and stop acting so stupid, and once they do, I can make my move, and finally get both Leyla and I out of this mess. I was shocked to see that nothing happened, and people were still standing there as if they had a death wish. The man from the helicopter announced again. Listen people, this is serious, we dont want to, but we will shoot and kill every one of you if you dont obey, go home, scatter away. He continued Those of you looking out the window this includes you too, get away from the windows or you will be shot as well.
Spared People who were looking out their windows quickly disappeared, and only a few remained. In my immature child like mind I was thinking that this cannot be happening, because it just seems like every movie I have seen with a threat of death, eventually had a happy ending, and somehow the main character gets away and lives. So could this be just like a movie? Do I really die right here, right now? That just cannot be happening. I thought any minute now the crowd will open up and people would runaway, but that did not happen. I pinched myself to see if I am dreaming perhaps, but I felt every bit of it, and I persistently stayed in that hellish ground. I suddenly could
Spared see and hear hundreds of military guards standing on top of the tanks with their machine guns and rifles pointing at the crowd. I could also see that the soldiers from the helicopters were also prepared to shoot with their rifles pointed at the crowd. My heart was racing a thousand beats per minute it seemed, and felt like it was jumping out of my throat. My hands were shaking and I felt like I was short of breath and I might faint, but unfortunately I didnt. I was busy praying very hard until I saw a man in my peripheral vision who looked like he was trapped in this mess by accident just like I was. He was standing just a step away from me with his hands on some ones shoulders
Spared trying to keep from falling as his legs were shaking, and had a look of terror in his eyes, much like what I must have had. He was a frail old man in his seventies or even eighties, in the traditional clothes of someone who lived in the Fars region with a small black cap and a black vest, and a white shirt. He had a prominent hump on his back, and his hands were covered with calluses, perhaps from years of hard labor. His hump was very common among this poor layer of the society who carried heavy loads on their back for a living. They very much did what mules do, and as a result end up with that hump on their back. It was also obvious that he was very poor judging by his appearance, and his worn out
Spared clothes. He must still be working to make ends meet, even though he looked to be way over seventy. We stared at each other for a good long time. His cataract covered pearly looking eyes were wet with tears. He had a rosary in his hand which was being turned vigorously, along with his mouth moving as if prayers were being recited. You just knew he didnt belong there and didnt voluntarily show up to be there. Im sure he had a family and loved ones too, and someone who was missing him at home. Every second seemed like an hour, and the anxiety of what will happen next was paralyzing. It was like we were all a herd of cows waiting to be slaughtered, and it was not a question of if, but
Spared a matter of when it would be my turn. Once more they announced over the loud speakers the last warnings. This is your last chance people to get away and save your lives. We have orders to kill, and we will do so if you do not get away now. Take your life and run. If you dont go away now, we will hunt you and kill you later if you happen to runaway and survive. This is an order and a guarantee. To scare people off even more they shot a few bullets up in the air. I didnt notice any thinning of the crowd and if there were people who did run away, it was not enough to make a difference where we were standing which was in the
Spared middle of this huge crowd. After these shots were fired up in the air, it created a strange silence that was so very chilling and unusual. No more screaming, reciting the slogans or profanity was heard anymore. The only thing you could hear was the helicopters up above, and for some reason they didnt sound as loud and obnoxious anymore either. I thought to myself if this is what they call the calm before the storm? I knew this was it. Feelings of impending doom took over me. I squeezed Leylas hand even though I knew she wasnt feeling it. There was obviously nowhere to run, and every possible warning has been given to these people and they
Spared are still standing here ready to give up their lives for their political belief, but what about me? Im not ready to die just yet, and dont have a political agenda either. I still am looking forward to the rest of my life, a nursing career, a husband, children, and a lot of other hopes and dreams. I even tried to bargain with god, that if you let me live, I promise to be a good nurse and help people with all my might, full dedication, heart, and soul, and never take any blessing for granted. I finally had to surrender, and accept it was over, and asked god to please let me go easy, dont let me suffer with too much pain. I thanked him for everything he had blessed me with up to that point. I finally said to god,
Spared If this is your will, that I die at a young age in this fashion, then I have no choice but accepting it, but please, please dont let my mom suffer. The silence was violently broken with the protestors screaming, and attacking the military guards with rocks, which prompted the soldiers to open fire. Hundreds of guards from military helicopters, tanks, trucks, and street level started to shoot simultaneously at the crowd. Machine guns roared and ripped the silence like hundreds of hungry wolves being let loose, tearing peoples flesh apart. There are not enough words to describe the terror that took place on that day when the bullets started flying towards us.
Spared Although I was terrorized, and traumatized up until that point, I had no way of knowing that this was yet a new level of devastation that not too many people will ever experience in their life time. Knowing you are standing there completely exposed, vulnerable, and helpless, with no way of defending yourself, and just have to wait for your bullet to take your life, is unbelievable and despicable. I was already imagining the bullets ripping thru me and burn my flesh, even though I wasnt shot yet. Somehow I felt the burning and stabbing pain of being pierced with bullets, but the truth was that I wasnt even shot. The anticipation of being shot was certainly worse than receiving it. The air was filled with
Spared constant and simultaneous screams of every person standing there, bullets flying thru the air, in addition to the flying helicopters. The bullets sounded like sharp and high pitched whistles going right next to my face. There was a helicopter directly on top of us with their gun barrels pointed at us long before the final warning was given out. I thought for sure he is going to shoot Leyla and me first. I looked over to Leyla quickly and saw that she was still standing right next to me with her eyes open, and a blank stare, and a flat expression on her face, completely unaffected by the flying bullets. I closed my eyes, pulled Leyla closer to me, and almost willingly waited to receive the bullet with my name on
Spared it. Enough was enough when am I going to get my bullet, the terror is killing me already. I just had to wait until the thousands of people in front of and around me get shot first and drop down, before I had a chance to duck, or receive the final bullet. I really wanted to scream but nothing was coming out of my throat. So I just stood there with my eyes closed, I had already surrendered. The helicopters were flying so low to the ground that you could hear what the soldiers where saying to each other. I could make out somethings that they were saying. At one point I heard the officer in charge yelling at the shooters Come on, come on, stop shooting the dead ones, shoot the
Spared ones still standing there or something to that effect. Our hair was flying everywhere and it was not possible to open your eyes because of all the flying dust and debris. The air was filled with the desperate screams of people. I kept praying to god: God please either stop this storm of bullets, or let me get shot right now. The agony of limbo and anticipation was harder than death. Holding my breath, I waited and waited what seemed like a century. I was splashed with what seemed to be buckets of warm sticky blood from every direction, and I felt like I am being showered with blood. Blinded with blood seeping in my eyes I stood my grounds,
Spared but soon the metallic taste of blood also found its way in to my mouth. At times I was hit with warm and wet chunks, which I am sure it was the dismembered flying body parts. Suddenly I felt a sharp knife going thru my left ear. I was shot in the ear lobe, but it was nothing more than a scrape. If the bullet was an inch a different direction I would have been killed. I didnt pay any attention to my ear and still waited for the fatal bullet. Finally the crowd was loosened up as I felt the flow of the wind on my legs. My left foot which was so far hoisted up, and on the tippy toes, finally sat on the warm pool of blood which covered the ground. Suddenly I felt Leyla dropping on to the ground, and her arm finally let go of
Spared its tight grip. As she fell I was knocked over by what seemed to be a dead man falling down. I didnt try to resist or sit up again, and I just laid on the ground which felt like a blood bath, in the fetal position. It felt good to lay there; I was physically and emotionally spent and exhausted. Why Leyla dropped didnt even register at that time, and Im sure it was because I was in a shock myself. I wasnt capable of thinking if she was dead or alive. I was in a disturbing confusion and numbness. My ears were ringing and could hardly hear anything else. I laid in the blood bath for a while, and I dont remember how long that was. A lot of my memory has been blocked, but I do remember bits and
Spared pieces of it. Im sure my mind was trying to protect me from the magnitude of psychological trauma and insult involved. Before that day I had never even seen a dead body, and just the thought of it would freak me out. I never imagined I would see the horrifying images I was about to see. I remember at some point opening up my eyes momentarily as I was lying there, and saw a mans brain open up in 2 halves, and the brain matter was hanging out of it, like seeds of a pomegranate. I lifted my head so very slightly just to see what the rest of Zhaleh square looks like, and I saw at least 6000 to 8000 dead bodies lying everywhere.
Spared I had once been at a palladium filled with 4000 people before at a concert, and that was how I estimated the number of people on the ground. This crowd looked to be approximately twice as much. There were still some who were moaning, moving, or crawling like dying tadpoles in a shallow dehydrated pond. The bodies were not all only shot to death, most were torn to pieces depending on how many bullets they received. I remember seeing an arm lying next to me with a wedding band still on. Inharmoniously, there was also a tattoo on the forearm saying Allah Akbar which means God is great. I wondered about his wifes sorrow when she finds out her husband was killed in the name of
Spared political beliefs. I saw a man laying flat on his back with all his guts and intestines outside his body. It was so creepy because his intestines were still moving like a slow moving snake. Another man was laying there with no head, but blood was still oozing out of his jugular artery. Somehow it seemed as though my body was paralyzed in shock, my mind kept working and thinking of different things trying to make sense of it all. However, I dont remember thinking anything about saving myself, or how do I get out of here, or anything related to survival anymore. Both my body and mind had been traumatized and surrendered. I am not sure how long I laid there, and what span of time had passed
Spared anymore. It seemed like time had stopped, and everything was in slow motion. The smell of blood reminded me of when we slaughtered sacrificial sheep at my grandmother Shahrbanoos house for very special events such as a new babys birth, or a loved one succeeding in an important goal like graduation, or weddings. When the blood from the sheep would sit on the ground for anymore than half hour, you can easily smell it, and soon would attract flies all over it. That smell always scared me. It sure smelled like death. I layed there trying to digest it all and placed my face on the asphalt that was covered with warm sticky blood. The blood bath seemed still
Spared very warm and soothing, and reminded me of when I would take a hot bath when I was a little girl, with my whole body floating under water. The only thing that would be sticking out was my nose. Having my ears filled with water made the whole world so very peaceful and quiet and I the only thing I could hear would be my heart beats making a sweet melody. Laying there in the street that awful bloody day, I could hear my heart beat so very slowly, and my right ear filled with the blood of thousands of people on the ground, but somehow the serenity was missing and there was no sweet melody in the making.
Spared In my visual field I could see layers of thousands of bloody bodies, and after that tanks and trucks in the distance. The number of bullets being shot gradually slowed down and finally stopped. The helicopters took off one by one leaving the slaughtered corpses. No more helicopters, machine guns, or political slogans, it was finally quiet. Dozens of soldiers jumped out of the trucks and tanks, and started walking towards me. Holding their rifles they started walking in between the dead bodies, kicking them to see if they would move, and if they did, BANG, they were shot to death. As they promised, they wanted to make sure no one gets out of there still alive. I dont remember being worried
Spared about that anymore, and just laid there motionless. I felt numb emotionally as well as physically. I looked up, and could see a few people looking down at us from the windows of the buildings surrounding the square. At the end of my visual field could not help but notice the hazy afternoon sky filled with a large number of birds migrating for the winter. I wished I could be like the birds and fly away. I was too traumatized to think about anything anymore, but my guess is that I must have passed out or else I would have been shot to death if I was found alive.
Copy Right
Spared Darkness Everywhere (Sep 8, 1978) I remember feeling like I am waking up from a scary dream. I dont know how long had passed, or where I was, or how I got there, but I felt like I was waking up from a bad and very long dream. Suddenly out of nowhere, I felt a warm sticky drop fall on my wet sweaty face. Oh... here is another one... I had no idea where that came from and why was it landing on my face. A total feeling of utter confusion mixed with anxiety and amnesia. My head was throbbing so badly, and so was my whole body from head to toe, especially my back. I felt like I was being smothered, and the air seemed heavy, humid, and saturated, as if I was locked
Spared up in a steaming sauna. I really needed a deep breath of fresh air in my lungs. I remember thinking where am I, and how did I get there? Why does it seem so dark? Is this a bad dream? Or even a good one? Was I dead or alive? There was a strange and very foul odor, which reminded me of the neighborhood butcher shop mixed with sweat. Indeed it was very similar to the smell of the slaughtered sheep again. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt like they were glued shut, or thats how it felt. I had no idea how I got there and how long I had been laying there. I attempted to use my hands to open my eyelids and scrub the sticky stuff away, so I can see where I was, but I realized that I was not
Spared able to. I could tell I was lying on my back. It felt like there was an elephant lying on top of me, and my hands were held down by something. I could not move my arms or my body. Something was holding and pinning me down, but since I could not see anything I couldnt tell what it was, which added to my anxiety. I knew I was not paralyzed, as I was able to move my muscles, but all my efforts to free myself failed. I even thought if it could be that I am buried alive? No, no, no, that thought was just too terrifying to believe. So I tried harder and harder to open my eyelids until I finally did. I realized that my eyelids were stuck shut from the dried blood. To my surprise everything was pitch black. Suddenly
Spared a feeling of freight, panic, and feeling of being trapped and claustrophobia took over me. I started to scream, just to realize I cant get enough air to let it out as a scream. Instead it sounded like humming. It felt like I only had a small pocket of air that I was breathing and rebreathing it. My mouth and nose were not obstructed or covered by anything, and I felt so lucky, because it they were I wouldnt be here to tell the tale. I felt the hair rise on my body as I feared I was in hell, or perhaps I was being punished for something I did wrong at some point in my life. You know when they say your life just passed in front of your eyes like a film? Its true, it was just like that. Only fast
Spared forward. But as my life did go by in my mind I wondered, is my life worth saving? Should I allow the darkness and this so seemingly hell swallow me whole? Is there anything worthwhile to live for? I certainly wasnt very happy with my life the way it was so far, and felt like I had suffered enough. As I sank deeper and deeper in to my dark hole, somehow I got energized. It was as if gods hand was placed on my forehead, and blew a big breath of life in to my lungs. A voice told me YES this life is worth it, get up and fight for it. Happy about having enough air in my lungs, I screamed over and over again until I realized no one was coming to save me. Not knowing
Spared where I was lying was driving me crazy, and adding to the terror. How did I go from lying in the street to lying in this hell hole? I tried to swing back and forth to free myself from whatever was holding me down, and realized it was very heavy, but I was determined. I pushed and then pulled, and was gaining inches only, but I didnt give up and gave it all my might. I was praying loud in my mind to myself hoping that I have the strength to fight and get myself out of there. Finally I was able to get my left arm freed up. I was so happy, and hopeful, and felt like I just had a victory the size of Persian Empire. I wondered if that was how Xerxes felt when he
Spared won his battles. Xerxes was one of the kings of the Persian Empire that we read about in school. With one arm freed up I started to lift what was pushing against my chest so far. My feet and legs were still trapped, and I was trying at the same time to free them as well. I pushed and rolled my body so hard, I felt like all my insides were squashed It made it harder for me to catch any air. I stopped only momentarily to catch my breath and regain some energy, and started to struggle again. It felt like whatever was laying on my face was lumpy, wet and had a piece of cloth covering it, it felt hard, but was somewhat squishy like a piece of hard foam. One more push and I was
Spared able to stick my head out of where ever I was. Wow I took a big refreshing breath, and filled my lungs with cold air. As I opened my eyes, I immediately saw the light from a distance of a half opened door.. I realized that I was in a very dark room with the door open to the hall way perhaps. It was very much like when they say there is light at the end of tunnel. I didnt know what the light source was but it gave me hope. It gave me the fuel to keep going. I looked down and that was when I realized my head was hoisted up in the air, and the rest of my body was still stuck in what seemed like quick sand.
Spared As I struggled to open my eyes wider, I looked up and suddenly I saw a man staring right at me with a blank expression. I let out a big AH as I got frightened so badly and was wondering who he is and what is he going to do to me, because I thought I am captured, and he will surely kill me now. My heart skipped a beat, and rushed the sluggish blood all the way to my head. With that in mind, I closed my eyes and braced myself for whatever he was going to do. To my surprise nothing happened. There was only silence. Another warm wet drop fell on my face instead. I could hear more drops falling on the floor. The floor didnt sound like it was too far away. I opened my right eye so very slightly to
Spared see if he is still there. What I saw was not any different than what you see in a horror movie. The only thing that was missing was a frightening music to go with it. I never did like horror movies, as I hated the sudden moves and monsters jumping at you from hidden dark places. The man I saw was dead from his position and what I could gather with the limited light shining in the room, I could tell that he was lying right on top of me with a lifeless expression on his face. I didnt know it then, but the fright from seeing the dead man must have been the grace from god that I really needed. What it did for me was that it scared me enough and gave
Spared me the fuel to propel myself out of the trap that I was entangled in. With the new wave of energy I pulled myself out of where I was laying, and next thing I knew was that I was standing on the cold linoleum floor of that room. I turned around to see what kind of trap was I entangled to, and that was when I saw a pile of dead bodies approximately 5 feet high. I realized that I was laying there with the rest of the dead bodies, oh my god that is just so unbelievable. I couldnt believe my eyes, and must have stared at the large pile of corps in disbelief for what seemed to be a long time. I was so numb and speechless, and was trying to wrap my brain
Spared around it, but my brain couldnt take it anymore, and was so very overwhelmed and exhausted. I was bloody from head to toe, and being still wet from the blood, I felt like I was freezing. My tears were rolling down my blood soaked cheeks, and I couldnt figure out what was hurting me the most. The sight of dead people pile on top of each other, or was it the fear of what is going to happen to me? Or I could go on and on for a million reasons that induced fears as well as tears. The thought of lying in the mix of approximately 100 dead corps was making me literally nauseated. I realized I was in a room the size of a typical living room, with no life or warmth to it. The light was not on, but there was
Spared enough light to see the dimensions and contents. It was a very small room that looked like a lounge or a break room of some sort. There was a water dispenser, a Samovar which is a large kettle for boiling and brewing large amounts of tea, a small sink, a few chairs stacked up on top of each other and a small table. It looked like everything was pushed away to make room for this large pile of bodies. There were no windows to the outside that I could see. There was a stench of stale blood and sweat in the room. I couldnt remember everything that happened to me that same day as my memory was very sketchy. I didnt have any concept of time. At that time I didnt exactly remember
Spared how I got there from the scene of the massacre that took place not too long ago. Confused and terrified I stood there looking at the lifeless bodies, which was close to a hundred all piled up on top of each other. There were several more bodies lying on the ground on their backs. How can this be? What was I doing among them? How did I get there? Why are they all dead and why am I still alive? Suddenly the recollection of what had happened pierced my mind like a flash of lightening ripping thru the dark skies. I was flash backing the details of what took place that day. Like a fast forwarded movie, I saw the crowd, the slogans, the fists in the air, the tanks, the helicopters, the blood, the brain matter
Spared on the asphalt, the ring on the ripped finger, all over again. I got a sharp headache and had to hold my head as if it was too much to bear. I felt like my head was going to explode. I held my head in my hands and felt my hair which was stuck together saturated in blood. I was so sorry about trying to remember the details, and now I wished I could forget. It dawned on me that they must have thought I was dead and threw me in the pile of corpses to be taken to the morgue later. I must have passed out, which saved me from getting shot to death, because they were killing anyone who was still alive.
Spared These lifeless bodies were thrown on top of each other like a pile of worthless garbage, and my heart was aching for every one of them. More warm tears rolled on my face. I tried to wipe my eyes with my hand, only to realize that my hands were too dirty and made my eyes burn. I knew somewhere out there their families are missing them all. Each and every one of them had dreams, hopes, and plans for the future, and families who loved them. I knew that these were not just people, they were some ones son, brother, father, or grandfather. Whether their political beliefs were right or wrong, they died trying to fight for it. Although it was noble to die for your belief, it seemed like such a waste of
Spared human life, body, and soul. I kneeled down next to them, caressed the blood saturated hair of a young man who was in the very bottom of the human pile. His eyes were popped out of his scull due to heavy load on top of him. He had a thin stream of blood coming out of his nose and ears, which had ran down on the floor joining the large pool of blood of everyone else which extended all the way out the door, on to the red carpet of the hall way. It looked like a river of martyrs. His face seemed so innocent and peaceful. As a matter of fact there wasnt one face that didnt look innocent. I prayed that his soul along with everyone elses soul is in heaven with god right now passing the golden arches. It
Spared didnt seem fair, and it wasnt because all those people were dead, it was because I was still alive. I was spared from certain death, and they werent. Why? Why did god want me to live, but everyone else had to lose their life? I felt very angry with god, because I didnt feel like I deserved to be alive. But I remembered how hard I prayed to god to let me live, and why am I angry now to get my wish, it felt so wrong. I felt very guilty and undeserving to be the chosen one. Also if I am supposed to be the spared one, if I was the chosen on to be saved, why is it that the only ones in peace are all lying before me lifeless? Pondering on those thoughts I got up and decided it is time to get going.
Spared Suddenly something shiny caught my eyes in my peripheral vision. Taken off guard I turned my head to see what it was. From the very pale light coming thru the half open door I spotted a shiny object in between a few of the bodies, as if it was trying to catch my attention. I went closer to see what it is as I tried my hardest to focus my eyes. I got closer to the stack of bodies and could still see the shiny object on one the bodies in the second row closest to the ground. It was a female body because I could see the long hair hanging down. I couldnt believe there were more females among the dead. All I could see was the jaw line, and half of the neck, and that was where the gold chain and
Spared pendant became visible. I turned her head towards me, and let out a quiet AH and took a step back. I gasped as if I was suffocating and my felt a sharp pain in my heart. I could not believe my eyes, it was my Leyla. Ah my darling friend, my Leyla. God no, no, why does she have to be dead? I was getting physically ill looking at her lifeless eyes. I held back the vomiting urge. It was so strange. Just hours ago she was walking, talking and vibrant as she talked about her most intimate feelings with me, and now she is laying lifeless in the pile of dead bodies. I was trying hard not to
Spared look at her, only to find myself staring right at her without any ability to take my eyes off of her, nor was I able to stop my tears from pouring. I stared at her for what seemed to be a long time. All the years we have been friends, all the memories we had, they all flashed before my eyes. I remembered her facial expressions when she was talking to me professing her love for Sina. Just like that my beautiful, funny, and rebellious Leyla was gone. A flood of emotions engulfed my heart and soul. Flood of sorrow was pouring out of my eyes as I stared at her lifeless body and half open eyes. Her beautiful green eyes no longer had the spark and liveliness they normally did. I lifted up her necklace and saw
Spared that it was actually a small gold cross hanging on a very long chain. She bought a long chain so she can hide the cross from her family by wearing it under her shirt. I remembered that Sina had bought that for her 17th birthday. Strangely, I didnt have to open the chain to get it out, as it was already broken, but yet still sitting on her chest as if was prepared for me to pick it up. I took the cross and the chain off her chest. I figured I will give it to her family if I can ever make it home. I caressed her hair, and as my fingers rolled over to the back of her head, I realized she is missing a part of her skull behind her head. By then my quiet whimpering had turned in to full blown crying, and it was difficult to catch my breath.
Spared I had to put my hand over my mouth to make sure I was not crying too loud. I took the blood from her head and rubbed it all over my face, my neck, my chest, over my heart, arms and legs. I wanted to carry as much of Leyla as I possibly could. I wanted her close to me, touching and embracing me. It made me feel as if she is still with me. Oh my Leyla, you are my closest friend, and I never forget the courage you showed me when I had none of my own. It is so hard to see you perished. I wish I was laying there with you, so neither of us is alone. You didnt deserve to die, and for all I know, I dont deserve to live. Rest in
Spared peace my sweetheart. I will pray for your parents to be strong. With those words I said my good bye and knew that now I could leave her in peace. It felt good knowing whatever happens that night, whether I make it home or not, I am not alone, and Leyla is with me. As I stood up to leave all of a sudden it all made sense. Oh I cannot believe that I didnt see it. I realized that it was a sign from god. This is all a part of gods plan. God was trying to tell me that everything will be ok. The cross was yet another sign from god that he is there with me, and he will guide me thru this. I dont know how, but I knew all this all happened for a reason. I am not
Spared sure why I was the chosen one among everyone else, but after seeing the cross I had no doubt that all of the events of that day were simply not a coincident. Thank you so much for reaching out to me when I obviously need you more than ever before. I know this is a sign from you. I feel you are with me, and will protect me. Please give me strength my god. I trust that whatever happened today was for a reason. Please help me to get me home. Thank you my god. To me although I didnt feel like I belonged to any religious school of thought, I believed that we all worship the
Spared same god. I kissed the pendent, and put it inside my bra on the left side as close to my heart as possible. I felt energized and more hopeful that I have a sign from god that he is with me. A cold draft came in to the room I was standing in, as if god was warning me to snap out of my thoughts, because I wasnt out of danger just yet. I had to pay attention to where I was and find a way to get home. I had to emotionally detach myself from Leyla and all the other bodies lying lifeless on the floor. That was very difficult to do, but I had to survive and make it back home, and that meant that I need to concentrate. I craved so much to be in my moms arms,
Spared where it was soft, inviting, and safe. I wanted to hear her say everything was going to be OK, but I was far away from home. The promise that the army guard made over the megaphone If you dont get away now, we will hunt you and kill every one of you. You cannot escape or hide echoed in my head, and weakened my faith,. A feeling of being hunted took over me, and it was time for fight or flight. It wasnt time to feel sorry for myself or the dead ones; it was time to fight for survival. I could not help the dead anymore; it was time to help myself. I looked at myself in the faint light that was coming thru the open door, and was horrified of the condition I was in.
Spared There was not an inch of my body or my clothes without blood. I had dirt and blood under my nails. I was barefoot, and my wet clothes were making me very cold. I carefully peaked out the door, and saw red carpeting and dim light in the hall ways. It looked very familiar, but I couldnt put my finger on where I was. I still wasnt sure who is out there, and how I am going to get out of there. It was obvious that someone would be back soon to remove these dead bodies before they start to rot, and I better be out by then. I could hear noises out in the hall way. It sounded like a woman crying and moaning, the sound of walkie talkies going off and on. Sounds of men talking could be heard also, and
Spared they didnt sound like they were too far away from where I was. I could still hear the sirens of police cars from the street. I knew there had to be soldiers nearby. I carefully stepped out of the room, and proceeded to go toward the brighter light. It seemed logical to do that to get out. But how was I going to get by the police men, soldiers, and guards looking like the way I do? They will grab me instantly and shoot me. But I couldnt stay there either; I had to find out what is out there and see where the exit doors were. Once I came out of the door, I realized where I was. I was in a movie theatre. The army had used this for hiding and collecting bodies. There were large posters of future movies
Spared on all the walls. The smell of popcorn, and it was replaced with smell of death. I took a few steps, and that was when I saw a lady who was crying over a dead body of a young man. She was in her late sixties or seventies perhaps, and had a black chador on. The man looked to be a young man in his early twenties. His whole shirt around his abdomen was bloodied. His eyelids were slightly open. Her clothes were all bloodies by her sons blood. The woman kept banging on her chest and her head with her fist, crying hysterically and saying, Why god, why did you take him? He was my life, my only son. Why did you have to take him this way and this soon?
Spared Why She seemed completely unaware that I might be a victim as well judging by the way I looked, but I am sure she was so sorrow stricken that she could only deal with her sons death, and nothing else. Perhaps my mom would behave the same if that was me lying dead. I couldnt watch that any more, as it was too disturbing and heart wrenching. I thought of all the moms who will be grieving over their children, and most will never know why their children never made it home that day, and if they are dead or still alive. I heard much later that due to lack of space in the city morgues, and inability to identify bodies, they buried majority of the bodies in one large grave.
Spared As I walked past the old woman, she stretched her hand out to me, but I couldnt stop to comfort her, or talk to her, or help her in anyway. She kept saying, My son, my only son, he is dead, please help him. Please bring him back to me. She had tears rolling down her rosy cheeks, and looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Somehow it just seemed like a movie, as if I was just watching this old woman on TV, and didnt look real to me. I knew no matter what I said or did, was not going to matter, or bring her son back from dead. Perhaps I was so zoned out that I was not even capable of helping anyone. I certainly didnt know how to even help myself. As I turned the corner I looked back and
Spared she still had her hands up in the air, begging god for help. The carpet was saturated with a lot of blood, and drag marks could be seen telling the tale of when the dead bodies were being dragged along the floor to the back room where I awoke. I passed a couple more dead bodies in that hall way. One of them was in a sitting position on the floor, and leaning against the wall with his right hand inside his button down shirt against his heart. Blood had trickled out of his shirt thru a large gaping hole, and all the way to the red carpet, blending in to the red carpet that covered the whole hall way. It made it looked like the whole floor was a river of
Spared red blood, making it seem like it was the red sea. His face was a shade of dark grey, and his eyes were half closed. He looked like he perhaps came in for refuge, but his injuries were fatal. He understandably got no medical attention because he was a protestor. I thought to myself that it was reasonable to say he died of a broken heart. I stopped and looked at him and noticed his left hand was resting on his lap, and his watch was still ticking. There was something so bizarre to have a live watch, worn by a dead man. I wondered what his last thoughts were before he died. The other dead body was just steps away from the first one. He was a young boy in his teens, and was lying on his left side,
Spared and had a large gaping exit wound on his back and thru his white tee shirt that said Adidas. His blood also had poured out thru the large gaping wound and joined the red sea as well. His spinal column was perfectly visible and looked shattered with his spinal cord lying out like worn pieces of old rope. He looked like a typical soccer loving boy you would see in every neighborhood streets playing with other kids. It was hard to believe kids that age had any substantial political belief that they were willing to die for, or did they see protesting as an opportunity to look brave. Or was he perhaps just like me forced out of his class and lost in the crowd like a drop in the ocean?
Spared I was startled by hearing footsteps coming towards me, and I ran towards a room that appeared to be the closest room and opened the door. It was a push door with no knobs on it I went in and tried closing it gently. I found myself inside one of the theatres, which flashing lights that usually guided customers to their assigned seats. The stage was visible with dim lights. There were sunflower seed shells all over the floor. Every inch of the walls were covered by very long velvet red curtains. I went behind the red curtains and tried to stand without moving or even breathing. The 2 soldiers passed by outside the room, but never came into the theatre I was in. I let out a sigh of relief.
Spared I realized that I better walk back to where I was and try to find a back door of some kind, because if I tried to get out thru the front door, I would get shot immediately because I definitely looked like a surviving protester, and soldiers had order to kill all survivors. So very carefully I walked back to the back of the theatre which seemed a safe place to be. I could not hear too much noise or commotion at all. I spotted the double exit door in the very back and was so thankful that I easily found it. As I came close to exiting, the gross smell of cigarette smoke filled my lungs. It stopped me in my tracks as I knew it meant there are soldiers nearby outside in the alley. Again I went in the nearest doors which lead me to
Spared another dark theatre room. I hid behind the long curtain again, and was able to hear 2 soldiers talking.
How may do you think you killed? Said one guard to the other. None damn it. I was stuck in the troop carrier loading rifles so everyone else can get to kill those rats out there. I just wanted to see what it felt like, to kill at least one, and see how it feels when someones brain is blown out. Did you?
Spared Oh yes, I killed so many, I cant even count. I was running the machine gun, and it was so cool to just shoot those suckers and seeing them fall, knowing it was me who killed them. It was fun; I like to do it again. Its going to be another long night for me. I have to stay here as long as it takes to clear all the damn corpses, and I know Ill be making it home early in the morning. I am so tired of it all. When are these people going to get it? They act like they all have a death wish. Im sick of it man Said one soldier to the other. One of them burped really loud.
Spared Dont worry you might get your chance. There has to be lots of injured ones, who are hiding, and they cant hide forever, and when they do come out, BANG, you can shoot them. Ha ha ha, the two guards laughed together. They threw away the bottles of soda they were drinking, and put out their cigarettes, and came in walking back towards the front of the theatre completely unaffected by the bodies. Neither one stopped to help the old lady or to pick up the dead bodies on their way. They both seemed like it was so ordinary and everyday like to walk by dead bodies.
Spared All these people lost their life today, and the only thing these guards could think about was missing out on the opportunity to kill someone? How soulless can you be, I thought to myself and felt disgusted.
Copy Right
Spared
Finding my way back home. (Sep 8, 1978) There comes a time in your life when it all boils down to a move on your part, a heroic act in order to save your life. I saw my opportunity to run out before another guard goes out thru the back door again. My heart was beating so fast and furious; I thought anyone who has ears will hear my heart bang on my chest wall. I listened to see if I hear any other people, or any foot steps out the exit door. There were only sounds of cars going by in the far distance. I prayed and
Spared stuck my head out the door. It was a leap of faith, because I really didnt know what to expect, and knew that I could be captured. I was so happy to see there was no one in the alley way. I slowly walked out of the theatre and hid behind a big dumpster. The smoking cigarette butt used by one of the guards was right next to my foot, and I almost stepped on it. I found myself unable to take my eyes off of this nasty cigarette butt. It was oddly very soothing to look at the thick dancing smoke swirling from the cigarette butt and going around and around like a ballerina on a music box. As a child I had a very small music box which was given to me by my step father for my 8th birthday, and when I opened it a
Spared small dainty ballerina wearing white ballerina suit, stockings and shoes, danced and swirled with her hands up in the air and her head tilted back, to Beethovens Fur Elise song. Whenever I felt lonely or distressed, I would open it up and listen to it. Years later when I would visit my parents house, I listened to Fur Elise every single evening when my step dad came home from work. He would greet us quickly, and go straight to his piano and play this song. Watching him play the piano was so fascinating and magical, as it seemed like he had an out of body experience every time he played this song on his black Wurlitzer piano. He would hold his head up and tilted back, and close his eyes, as if he was
Spared making love to every key as he gently stroked them. Magic was made whenever my father and his piano met, and together they gave life to every one of the lifeless notes that sat on the on top of his piano. An abrupt wind blew away the swirling smoke right in to my eyes and irritated them. It was as if telling me to stop daydreaming, you are not safe there, move on. I felt gods presence in every step I took, every bullet I dodged, and every tear I shed. It felt good to feel that I was not alone, and he was with me everywhere, but still I felt overwhelmed with the entire psychological trauma, and the astronomic task of going home without anyone seeing me. Unfortunately I had
Spared a long way home, and had no idea how to get there, or even how to begin. It was twilight time, and there was still some visibility. I decided to wait just a little bit longer, and hide somewhere until it is completely dark before I make a serious effort to find my way back home. I walked across the alley way which was very narrow, into another much smaller alley way Off of the alley way behind the movie theatre. That very small and narrow alley was a dead end, and much more secluded and dark. I found a large amount of rubble which was stacked up vertically, and covered by an old mattress behind a business which was obviously closed at that time of the night. I squeezed myself and hid under
Spared the very dirty and heavy mattress which smelled like old urine. I was always so terrified of bugs especially spiders, however that night, none of those seemed to matter. There could have been a tarantula crawling on me, and I would have not cared. It seemed so amazing that for the sake of survival, all my other fears had completely vanished, and all my fears of bugs seemed so insignificant. My legs were falling asleep as I was squatting, and needed to stretch them somehow to allow the blood to flow to my feet. Once I did that, I felt so much more comfortable. I had a stinging sensation in my left ear lobe. Suddenly I got startled by seeing something in my peripheral vision and I turned toward
Spared it to see what it was. Ah, I let out a huge sigh of relief when I realized it was a little brown and grey sparrow hopping toward me. I was surprised to see it was not too scared of me when I tried to stretch my arms toward it. I noticed the poor bird only had one leg, but the injury looked old. He was not bleeding from anywhere. It came closer to me, and I was able to grab it easily. I was so overjoyed and thankful that the little sparrow allowed me to hold it. It was once again a reminder that I am not alone. It was looking at me with his 2 little beady eyes. It looked so very innocent. I noticed his left wing was broken.
Spared Oooohhh that is why I was able to grab him. Alone and injured. Just like me. We make great friends little guy. You have alley cats after you, and I have mean viscous guards after me. We are both struggling to survive. We understand each other. I talked to myself. Somehow I was so sure that the bird could understand. I said a prayer and send him on his way. He hopped away and disappeared from my visual field. I started thinking to myself about a plan to get back home, but didnt know how. The only thing I knew was that I was in the southern part of Tehran, and our house was somewhere in the north. I wished I had paid attention when I was in the
Spared taxi cab that drove me there that same morning. Since I had a little bit of time to kill, I tried very hard to back track to see if I remember how I got there. I thought once I make it closer to the Zhaleh square, I would more than likely be able to tell from which direction we entered it. The only problem was that there was no way to go back to Zhaleh square and risk being seen. I felt very frustrated and helpless. I started thinking about whatever happened to Leyla again, and if she is still alive, or did she die? The thought of her death seemed so unreal. It was only hours ago when we were still talking to each other. I wish she was hiding under the mattress with me, so we
Spared could comfort each other. Perhaps that was too selfish to wish. Perhaps she was the lucky one to be gone and free of any of this terror and mental anguish I am going thru right now, but I could not deny that I missed her terribly. For the first time, I wished I could hear Leyla going on and on about how much she loves Sina. Oh how I missed my best friend Leyla, and even more than that was how I wished I was home in my own living room, safe and secure with my family. Then I started to think about my mother, who worried about things that didnt need worrying, let alone now that it is all over the news about the massacre where my class was, and how many people died. I was already 6 to 8 hours late, and
Spared knew my mom must be having a nervous breakdown. I know my mom. Oh god, I wish I could tell her somehow Im still alive. Maybe I come across a payphone, but I have no money on me, and the last thing I want is to be seen in middle of the street making a phone call but realized that I had lost everything, even the money in my pocket to pay for the cab fare home.. I prayed very hard that my mom would find the strength. I was drowning in the sea of memories, like a sail boat without its sail, drifting in every direction, when I realized the twilight had vanished, and darkness has covered all of Tehran, like a blanket. I had no idea what time it was. I started to panic because I just remembered
Spared there is martial law in Tehran, which dictates every one must be at home by eight pm. My heart rate started to pick up and going very fast again and anxiety commanded my body to react in strange ways. Martial law was in my favor in a way, as it meant no one would be in the streets to notice me, but at the same time it was dangerous because there were soldiers in the all streets of Tehran, and in every corner, and if they found me I could be executed on the spot. I carefully crawled out of my safe hiding place and knew I need to move on and do it fast. The wind wrapped itself around me like a scarf. I was getting very cold, and the wind had picked up. I started to shiver,
Spared was covered with goose bumps. My teeth were chattering so hard, and I just didnt feel very well as if a fever had just taken over me. I felt hot, but yet freezing and shivering at the same time. My body seemed completely confused. I tried telling myself that once I started walking or running I would get much warmer. All I was wearing was a blue cotton shirt and a denim skirt, and they were both damp and soaked with blood, and had neither socks nor shoes. I had lost my shoes and my sweater somewhere along the way. I tippy toed to the end of the very narrow alley. By this time it was pitch dark and very easy for me to be on my way or so it seemed. Before I reached the alley way behind the movie
Spared theatre, I saw another alley way to the left which still took me to the direction I needed to go. I could see as far as my eyes could see that this alley way continued with the exception of one major street. Every once in a while you could see civilian people running very fast and very low, and disappearing in to the dark. I wished I was that close to my home. As I was trying to walk as carefully as I could, suddenly a door of the first floor apartment building opened up and I was faced to face with an older woman in her fifties or sixties, who got frightened by me. I could smell rice and celery stew coming from inside the apartment.
Spared Oh my goodness, who are you, what happened to you? said the old woman. At the same time an older man appeared out of nowhere and stood right behind me. He was wearing a long dark coat, a hat, and had some grocery bags in his hand. When I turned around he got a good look at me, and dropped his bags. Oh my god child, what in name of god happened to you? Are you hurt? he said as he grabbed my arm pushing me closer to their door. I couldnt say anything, and was shocked and scared. I just stared at him. Zari, quick get her in, let see what is wrong with her, poor girl is covered
Spared with blood, get Saied to come and get the grocery bags, quick He said to the old woman with urgency in his voice. He proceeded to push me toward the door way, and I came face to face again with the older lady who I think was called Zari. She stood in our way as if she didnt want me to come in. She grabbed the old mans arm, pushed me out of the way back in to the entrance of the apartment building, and tried to pull him in instead. She looked both ways and said in a low voice, No, we cant do that Jamshid. Didnt you hear from anyone? She
Spared looks like she got hurt in the big Zhaleh square massacre. It is all over the news. They have been saying on TV, if you help anyone of the protestors, you can get killed yourself. Let her go. Im not taking any chances. Jamshid, Get in quick, and lets close the door, hurry. What are you saying Zari, you mean to leave a bleeding girl in the alleyway to die? I dont know about you, but I wont be able to answer god in the judgment day. Zari our own daughter is her age. What if she was hurt and in the same situation? She is coming in and thats that, said the old man. He pulled my arm even harder and tried to go thru the door. I felt like I was being pushed and pulled at the
Spared same time. His wife had a very angry look on her face and she pushed me away from him, and said Im not allowing you to subject our family to bullets, get in before you get shot in the street yourself. I started to walk away backwards for a few steps, and then ran as fast as I could. I felt very unwelcomed and didnt want to be there any longer. It hurt my feelings that people would be unwilling to help one another under such circumstances, but I wasnt sure what my family would have done if they were in their shoes. I could hear them arguing as I ran the other way, and they finally went inside.
Spared Streets of Tehran were on a very mild but gradual slope, and going north, one could tell that you are going up the hill. I knew I was going from east to west which somehow felt right. I didnt allow myself to doubt myself. If god wanted me to be the spared one for whatever reason, then he is my guide now. I trusted my gut feeling and kept going toward west. As I was going thru the alley way I crossed a house with big metal double doors that had a garden of some kind behind it. I could see the towering tree shadows above. Suddenly a very violent sound of a very large dog took my breath away. My heart stopped a beat, and I got covered with goose bumps. My knee jerk reaction was to go and
Spared hide behind the first thing I saw, which was a smelly garbage can. The dog continued to bark and banged his body against the metal doors. I knew I had to run and get away from there, as the dog was sensing my scent, and I didnt want to draw any attention to myself. Most houses had their lights off, and although I didnt understand why then, I learned later that people were told to turn off their lights as much as possible due to either respect for the martial law, or a sign of obedience. In some areas it was so hard to see in front of me, and I hoped I didnt fall in to a hole suddenly. The only thing that guided me was the pale moonlight sneaking out of the rushing clouds in the sky. I looked at
Spared many garbage cans for something or anything I could put on me or wear to keep me warm, but unfortunately didnt find anything. The cold wind was so unkind as it was chilling my bones, and give a burning sensation. I was rubbing my hands together to generate heat, but it just didnt seem like it was working. Both sides of these alleyways were lined with apartment homes on one side, and with single family homes on the other with walled off yards. I had walked for a very long time, and I needed to sit down, so I went and sat behind a car for a few moments to rest my aching and stinging feet. I enjoyed the calm and soothing songs the crickets were chirping. Periodically the wind provided another calming
Spared melody as it bushed against the leaves of the trees, and gently caressing them. The natures lullabies were so pleasing, but sadly I simply could not sit there to enjoy it any longer. After a short time I was on my way again, and I passed several small street intersections, and finally reached a major intersection where I had to be very careful and lay low. I heard men talking, and my heart was banging against my chest wall again. I walked backwards as I thought I heard them coming towards me. There was nothing to hide behind, so I just had to walk inside the area of a 4 story apartment building door frame, where you stand to ring the
Spared bell. I had to make myself leveled off with the door, so it doesnt look like I am sticking out. I dont know who they were, but I didnt think 2 men would casually walk in the streets when it was past the curfew. They had to be guards. When the 2 guards were gone, I slowly and so carefully walked to the end of that alley way, and I realized that it was another major intersection, and I desperately needed to cross it, in order to get closer to our home. On the right side there was a very long vast street going north, and on the left side there was also empty streets going towards south of Tehran. Each side of the street was wall to wall covered with closed stores, venders, and businesses. A 25 foot long
Spared sidewalk was in between the businesses, and a ravine, or Jube that was a shallow dirt bottom water channel, flowing on both sides of the street. Jubes are very common in Tehran, and they vary in size. The ravine direction was a good indicator of which way was north. I knew that the ravine originated in the mountains in the north of Tehran, and always drifted south. On the other side of the ravine, enormous ancient sycamore trees lined inside the Jubes, and canopied over the street. Looking towards north it seemed like the sky had a dome shaped ceiling, as the branches of sycamore trees from both sides came together as if they were holding hands. There were no vehicles on
Spared the road on either side, and the traffic lights were all red and blinking. I was so very happy to know that Im on the right track. I only knew 2 streets in Tehran that had the Jubes running thru it, and not only did it confirm that I have been going north, but I also now knew where I was. I could not be happier, and it gave me so much needed hope and fuel to continue my journey. I recognized the businesses, and the stores I was passing by. If my estimation was correct, there was a big department store close by in another street nearby, called Iran department store. There was a self service restaurant on the very top floor where we went often with my mom and my aunt and cousins as children. They
Spared had very yummy food, and it made me remember how long it had been since I ate, but I was not hungry at all. Both sides of the streets had dim street lights and I could see the 2 soldiers walking south far away from me. I could see military trucks on the south side of horizon at least 6-7 blocks away, but as far as eye could see there were no barricades or military trucks on the north. Even though it seemed like I got lucky, I had a deep knowing that it wasnt so, and I had to ignore the false sense of security. I had never seen Tehran streets that way, and it was so very creepy to see it so lifeless. These streets would usually be swarmed by honking cars, lights flashing, people crossing
Spared the streets, babies crying, venders selling their goods, and lights on everywhere. The streets were so quiet that I could hear the birds flapping their wings and flying above occasionally, as well as the running water in the ravine. I could also hear alley cats fighting nearby. I got into the ravine channel, and the running water felt so good on my blistered feet. The ravine was usually so trashed, as people would often throw their garbage in there, without any regards to littering. I often found myself very upset at the fact that people were such Hippocrates, condemning littering in the ravine, but they would also be the same people who would threw trash in there without any regards to keeping our city
Spared clean. That night I could care less what garbage I was stepping in and as a matter of fact it felt so very soothing to my burning feet. The sound of water flowing over rocks and tree roots was very soothing as well. I walked hunched over, as low as I could, trying not to be seen or noticed. Suddenly I saw a pair of bright lights from a jeep shining right at me, and I ducked down almost parallel to the mud and water. The coldness of water took my breath away, and made me freeze and shiver again. My teeth were chattering and my head was throbbing, and I tried to lay there motionless trying not to pay attention to my physical agony. I tried so hard not to allow my teeth to chatter that loud, and
Spared let my teeth bite on my lips instead. It was a military jeep going so very slow with very bright flashlights, trying to catch anyone who was still outside. One of the soldiers was turning the flash light slowly to cover both sides of the street. There were at least 5 men with military uniform and military hard hats, with rifles in their arms. I could hear 2 of them giggling about something. I could smell the cigarette smoke from their topless jeep. As they drove away from me, I chased them with my eyes until they had completely exited my visual field. I finally got out of the freezing mud, and washed my muddy hands in the ice cold water. Then I held my hands under my armpits to warm them up. My feet were
Spared in very bad shape, and were stinging in various different places. My head was feeling very hot, and my body was aching everywhere. I felt like I had the flu. It seemed like I walked for a very long time. I was hoping I get to a cross section where I can go across the street and continue going west, but I couldnt get enough courage to cross under the circumstances. I thought to myself, I have to make a dash across the street, without anyone seeing me. How is that ever possible? There is the dim street light that cannot be turned off; I wish I could just turn it off. I continued my way north along the same street. The more I walked up north, I
Spared realized the harder it is getting to cross the street, because streets got wider, bigger, with more lights everywhere. I saw something in the horizon, but I wasnt sure what it was. It looked like a road block of some kind. I walked really low all the way up to it, and when I still had a safe distance from it, I realized that it was not a road block per se, but it was a road block made of 2 giant troop carriers parked back to back, and a 3rd big army truck. The 3 of them were enough to barricade the road and stop the foot and car traffic. That was a major intersection that I had to cross. Beside the truck on the East side of the road, there were about 4 or 5 guards who had gathered around a large metal
Spared barrel with fire roaring in it. They were all wearing long military coats, and fully armed as they carried their guns on their shoulder. They all had their military hats on. I envied them for having coats and warmth. I felt very sorry for myself. Tehran is a four season city, and although it was only fall, the temperature seemed like subzero to me. I expected snowflakes to fall out of the sky at any moment. I could see steam coming out of my mouth as I breathed. I scoped the area to see how many guards I have to worry about. The guards seem to be having a good time, and talking and laughing at something. There were 2 other guards who were going back and forth suspiciously guarding
Spared all directions. They had their guns ready, holding them up high as they walked around. There was one guard who would make large circles going to the front of the parked troop carriers making sure there is no one on the north or the south of the roads. I sat where I was still in the shallow canal. How am I going to cross the street without getting caught? How? I cant go South or East, because that is just not the direction I need to go. I have to go either North or west, and either direction requires me to go past this road block. What do I do, god please speak to me, show me a sign. God remained quiet, and there were no other signs either.
Spared I decided that I will be patient, sit here in the shallow canal as long as it takes to see when I can safely go behind the trucks and get to the other side of the street. Sitting in the wet muddy canal freezing to death was not the easiest thing to do, but at the time it was the safest. All I have to do is to get close to the road block, and make sure the guard who is going in circles has already passed from south side of the trucks to the north, and I can make my move then. I felt it was safe enough to run across the street right behind the troop carriers, when the guard has made his rounds and gone to the north side of the trucks. I tried to reassure myself that it was the right thing to do;
Spared otherwise I would be stuck in the ravine until sun came up. I had to make that leap of faith before the night is over. It was so hard to do, because it could also be my ending, and I could be captured, and killed. I had to take that chance, because doing nothing would mean being captured without a doubt, with possibility of 100%. With that in mind I slowly and gradually crawled towards them, trying to be as quiet as possible. I was almost there out of the ravine when suddenly all the soldiers turned their heads toward the north and held up their rifles ready to shoot. One of them screamed, HEY STOP THAT CAR really loud. All hell broke loose, and the sounds of cocking rifles
Spared echoed on both sides of the street. One, two, three shots were fired. It sounded like they shot in the air, but I am not sure really if it indeed was. At this point I could hear a car engine as well which screeched loudly and stopped. I felt frozen stiff where I was, and petrified. It was as if I was in the massacre all over again. I slid down back in to the ravine. No, no, god please no, I cant take any more shooting, I think I have heard enough of that today. God please listen to me, where are you? I need you now. It just has to be OK, and I have to gather my strength.
Spared I was shaking uncontrollably, and it wasnt because I was cold. I was actually so warm that I felt wetness on my forehead. It was pure terror. My heart was beating so fast and banging against my chest like a restless bird in the cage. I covered my ears, but it was useless, I could still hear everything. Suddenly a screaming cry of a woman filled the air in the street. She was screaming constantly. At the same time, I noticed the very few lights that were still on inside peoples homes, and building, went off. People were scared too, and the last thing they wanted was to draw attention to themselves. Then I heard a loud slap.
Spared I told you to shut up woman, do you want to die? said one of the guards. The woman stopped and was crying but she wasnt screaming any more. I could feel the horror that she was going thru, as I was visualizing that in my mind like a movie. I heard a lot of noises after that, which sounded like 2 people wrestling. A lot of banging, walkie talkies, moans of a man saying ouch ouch, and then there was more rifle cocking noises. A man with an angry voice said, Get down now! Up until then I could only see guards legs from underneath the trucks, but as time went by, number of
Spared guards increased, doubling the already existing group. It wasnt clear to me where these other guards came from. Suddenly I saw a man thrown on the ground on his back. He had his hands up in the air like to say I surrender, and the guard put his foot in big heavy boots, and rested it on his chest. There were 4 or 5 rifles pointing at him. The poor man was wearing a dark suit of some kind and looked to be around 40 years old. He was breathing very heavy with steam coming out of his mouth. He started pleading with shaky voice to the guards: Please dont hurt us, please I am begging you sir. I had to get my wife to the hospital, she is pregnant, and in labor,
Spared please dont kill us. If it wasnt for an emergency I would have never got out of the house. I am a law abiding citizen, but this is an emergency, please understand and let us get to the hospital. She is in a lot of pain sir. At that time the woman started to scream again. Poor woman was in labor, and more than likely impossible not to scream with pain. Another slapping sound was heard. I said shut your mouth up, didnt I tell you to stop screaming? You are lucky you are alive you ungrateful bitch, said the guard. The woman stopped screaming, but she said, Im so sorry sir, Im in labor, and it hurts so bad, my water just broke too, and
Spared I dont want to deliver here in this car, please let us go, Im not lying, look at my seat, it is drenched. A pause followed by the sound of a car door opening, and the guard said very loud, Oh no, Officer, there is blood coming out of her, it is pouring out. The woman started to cry hysterically again. I could see the husband was struggling, and begging to be released. A hand helped the man get up, and said, If you 2 are lying, I will shoot you in the hospital in front of everybody, do you understand? Yes sir
Spared Im going to send 2 of the guards with you. Your wife better produce a baby tonight, and that is the only excuse I am willing to accept tonight from you. My orders clearly say to kill whoever is out after 8 pm, and I have a General Oveissi to have to answer to. So get out of here before I change my mind Yes sir, god be with you, and Im not lying, can I please get in the car and drive away now? said the husband. NO! Guard Mohammad is going to drive you, to prevent any more delays to the hospital. There are guards everywhere in every corner, and if you drive, youll be
Spared stopped again and again, and they wont be as nice as us. You sit in the back with the other guard Keyvan, and If you try anything funny, they have my orders to kill both of you in the car, pregnant or not. Do you understand? Yes sir whatever you say. Im your servant, and owe our lives to you, thank you sir. The sound of the car drive away in a rush manner confirmed they were gone. It was a sigh of relief to see they are on their way to the hospital. I was wrapped up with thoughts of how traumatic it had to be for the poor pregnant woman to go thru this ordeal, when this was supposed to be a happiest part of becoming a
Spared mother. Suddenly it dawned on me that this had to be the sign from god that I was wishing for. I felt selfish to take advantage of the situation that caused 2 people such terror, but I had to be selfish to survive. I convinced myself that it was a gift from god, and he wanted me to use it to get myself to the other side. When they were all getting in the car, I made my move. The guard who was going around was no longer there, and busy dealing with the husband and wife situation. I could not see any more legs from underneath the trucks, and felt very confident that it was a good time to make my move. I tippy toed across the large trucks. It felt like it was miles instead of yards to get to the other side. My
Spared brain said dont go you fool, but my legs kept on running as if they belonged to someone else. I safely made it to the other side, and got in a very narrow side street almost immediately. The street was curved a little bit to the south, but it didnt matter. I knew it takes me to the north eventually. I looked back to see if anyone was following me, or looking at me, but there wasnt any one. I found a corner and squatted down to see what happened to the couple, and if they truly left. I could see now that it was a black sedan, which soon accelerated and left the scene towards north. God, I wish I was in that car going to safety. A sigh of relief and feeling safe and secure engulfed my
Spared heart. I felt a new surge of energy spread thru every cell of my body. I felt like I can run a few miles easy, and I was prepared to do so. I knew that I finally got to the other side, and I am going to be safe at home soon. I was very familiar with these streets now, and knew my way home. Nothing could be better than that. The alley I had entered was very long and dark as if it was a tunnel. If it wasnt for the stars shimmering in the black sky, I would have thought I was going to be swallowed by a black hole. Even the black hole sounded safer to me in comparison to where I was just minutes ago. I stood up to get ready to go down this dark alley, and I could see the silhouette of cars parked on one
Spared side of this side street. It made me happy that I had a hiding place if I encountered military guards. Filled with hope and happiness, I started to skip on the black asphalt road. The road ended shortly to my surprise and I got to an area where there were a few businesses and shops on the sides of the street. There was not a whole lot of places I could hide, and that left me feeling very vulnerable and insecure. Before I crossed the street I heard 2 men talking and walking in my direction. They were going east to west, and I was going south to north, and I knew that I would run
Spared into them if I continue going that direction. There wasnt much time to think, and I hysterically searched to find a cover or a place to hide. I looked around and there was nothing that I could hide behind or under. That street had more lights than other street, and hiding behind a car was not a good idea. I thought maybe there is a car door that might be open, and I pulled on the handle of the first car next to me which was an orange Renault. Unexpectedly the alarm went off, scaring me half to death. Goose bumps covered me all over. I tried turning every door knob there was hoping I can sneak in someones house or courtyard. The men were getting closer, and I
Spared could hear their footsteps as if they were running. I knew with the car alarm going off, they would want to investigate. After turning 3 or 4 door knobs, miraculously I was able to open a big double metal door. Feeling like I was just saved from certain death, I quickly but quietly closed and locked the door behind me. The lock was identical to what we had at my fathers house. The double metal door was light blue, and it lead to a dirt floored yard, which was used for some kind of storage for tires or automotive parts. I could see the silhouette of stacked up tires, and could smell motor oil. Why it was unlocked I will never know, but I was so very thankful. I certainly attributed that to a miracle sent from
Spared god. Even after everything that had happened, I still felt pretty lucky. I sat on the dirt floor behind stacked up tires close to the door. I didnt want to go any further in fear of knocking something over or running in to an object which would create noise and could let the guards know I was there. So I tried to just sit there quietly and calm my heart down, by breathing deep and slow. I felt very dizzy, and Im sure it was due to hyperventilation. I closed my eyes in an effort to help with anxiety and to stop hyperventilating. The car with the screaming alarm was parked right in front of the metal doors. I heard the guards footsteps arriving to the scene, and using their flash lights to see what is going on.
Spared Is there anybody here? Come out now. said one of the guards. Maybe we should find out whose car this is, lets ring the bells around here to find that out. As I had my eyes closed with my head resting on my folded knees, I was praying nonstop for the guards to go away, when strangely I felt a steamy breath on side of my face. In a fraction of a second my mind already concluded that the guard is right there beside me, or some kind of creepy man is there in that yard with me. I didnt want to open my eyes to find out what it was, and by now it was
Spared breathing continuously in my face. I finally had to open my eyes to face the truth, and to my surprise I saw a silhouette of a big dog right in front of me. I could see his teeth shining in the dim moonshine. I truly think I stopped breathing, and predicting and waited for a vicious attack any second. Frozen stiff I tried to swallow, and only found my throat to be as dry as sand. I didnt know which one was worse, dying by bullets, or being ripped apart by a vicious dog. Why is it that the every creature in the universe was out there to kill me? Get in line! Unlike what I expected, the dog and I stared at each other for a few seconds, and he walked a step closer, but did not try to attack me. I think I was still holding my
Spared breath. I finally tried so very carefully reach my hand toward him so he can smell me. I grew up with dogs, and I certainly had a huge love for them. To my astonishment, the dog licked my hand as he walked even closer. I finally let out my breath, and went closer to the dog, and hugged it. He was matted, dirty, but all I could feel was surge of love going thru us as I held it tight. What a loving dog, what a sweetheart, what a blessing. You probably need someone just like I do. I didnt know it, but it was exactly what I needed. Even though I couldnt take the dog with me, it gave me so much love, tenderness and security in the short time we spent together. I know it sounds strange, but I kept thinking the whole time
Spared that the dog must be a manifestation of god himself, trying to comfort me, ease my fears, and helping me to get thru this. Whether it was god or not, I was very appreciative, and was amazed of how god works in such mysterious ways. The dog did not bark even once the whole time we spent together. The guards at that time finally reached the apartment building, and rang the bell to investigate about the alarm of the car that went off. The first apartment building was 5 stories high, and was attached to the yard I was hiding.
Copy Right
Spared After a while a faint sound of a woman said in the intercom, Yes, who is it? Open up. This is the military guard; we want to know if this is your car alarm that went off. Its an orange Renault said one of the guards. There was a short pause. Hello sir, Im the man of the house, can you please wait a moment, you said you are the military guard? said a mans voice over the intercom.
Copy Right
Spared Yes thats what I said; now someone get down here now to explain why this cars alarm is going off this late at night. After a few moments the cars alarm stopped beeping. A man from the 4th floor of that building yelled out, Sorry officers. That car is mine. I dont know why it went off. Get down here now, we want to talk to you said the guard. After a few minutes, a young man opened the building door and stepped outside. I could tell by his voice he was very nervous, and his keys were jiggling in his hands.
Spared Good evening sir, like I said it is my car, but I dont know what happened. My alarm is so very sensitive that sometimes it goes off when a cat jumps on the car. I really apologize for disturbing you. How do we know that you werent going out? Oh no sir. First of all I am very aware of the martial law, and would never want to violate that. Second of all, my wife and baby are sleeping upstairs; I have no reasons to go anywhere. Third, I have the keys to the car, and if was going out, I would disable the alarm first, and forth.?
Spared OK, OK, dont get smart with me now, get inside said the guard. Thanks officers, you have a good night. After the young man was gone, the 2 guards stood around right in front of the big metal door for a while talking. One of them tried to turn the door knob to the metal door. My heart skipped a beat or two, and I covered my mouth trying to prevent myself from screaming. With the other hand I held the dogs mouth shut hoping he would not bark either. The dog remained silent. For one second I thought
Spared to myself what if I didnt lock it correctly, but thank goodness it didnt open. I felt like I lost 5 years of my life. This is not just a case of accidental alarm going off by a cat, I know there is someone out here, and he is mine. I havent had the chance to shoot anyone yet, but the night is young, and his ass is mine. said the guard right on the other side of the double metal doors where I was hiding. There were only inches of metal separating death from me, and the thought of that was so brutal. Well, I think it may be true that it was just a cat. These damn alarms are so sensitive nowadays. I guess people are
Spared really aware of rising car theft rate. People work like dogs for their money. Beside, who would want to steal a car now when they cant even drive it away said the other guard laughing out loud. Ok, sure, lets go back to our corner, and have a cup of tea. Officer Salehi said he brought a big thermos full of hot homemade tea. Ok lets go. Hey do you have a cig? I heard their footsteps getting farther and farther away from me. I sat there quiet for a while making sure there was nobody else around either. I heard the windows of the
Spared building next to me open and close also. Curious neighbors wanted to see what happened. After not hearing anything for a long time, I decided that was the time to get out of there and continue the journey home. I hugged the dog one last time, thanked god again, and very carefully exited the metal doors. I looked out and didnt see anyone in any direction. The street was very calm and quiet in perfect condition to make a go.
The Capture
Spared Confident of making it out of the automotive garage yard safe, I had only taken a few steps, when suddenly, out of nowhere I was grabbed and pulled by what felt like a giant man with his hand over my mouth. I was violently yanked away from the side walk. He carried me as if I was a feather with no struggling or having to strain. Big jolts of fear shook my body as if I was struck with a lightening. I felt something sharp against my throat. I kept seeing myself in my mind lying in the street with blood pouring out of my wide open throat. Then I saw myself being raped by that big monstrous savage who grabbed me as I am begging him to stop. He quickly put the knife in his mouth. His giant right hand
Spared wrapped around my waist, and his left hand was held tightly over my mouth. I didnt dare scream anyway to draw attention, and was confused what I can do. Should I scream so all the other guards can hear me, or is this an easier kind of death? Uncertain of where he was taking me I continued my prayers. God what did I ever do to deserve this, why? I thought I was saved because you love me, but why do I have to be raped or killed this way. I think bullets would have been easier. I thought I was going to have a heart attack, and I was so scared and that I thought my soul left my body. It was an out of body experience. Cold sweat covered my body.
Spared God, what is happening? I saw every sign from you that I was going to be safe? Is he a rapist? Is he someone who was trying to help me? Or was this a guard? What does he want from me? I have survived the massacre and the streets, to die by a crazed man in the dark? Thats it, I am done. This is where it ends for me. I thought to myself. Well well well, who do we have here, little red riding hood? Look what the cat dragged in, where do you think youre going this late at night? Dont you know you could get raped or killed? Dont you know the big bad wolf was out there to get ya? Ha ha ha ha
Spared Said the man laughing out loud. He didnt seem to be worried about being quiet. His right hand that was covering my mouth was wearing a glove, which smelled like smoke. I knew there was no cat setting off that alarm, and you eventually had to come out from your hiding place sooner or later said the man dragging me away, like a hunted prey. He sounded so proud of himself. That is when I figured out it had to be a military guard, but was still uncertain. Not knowing what will happen is one of the rawest terrors I have ever experienced in my whole life, even to this day; and I experienced so many varieties and levels of terror all in one day that terrible day. The terror of not knowing if you will be
Spared tortured, raped, beaten, or chopped up to pieces dances around in your head fertilizing the ever growing anxiety. It seemed like there is a kind of terror where your whole body is reacting, and you pray to god to survive it, and then there is another kind of terror where you are aware of possibility of dying in some cruel and twisted way, but it doesnt matter anymore. You still feel the agonizing pain and terror, but somehow you have given in and surrendered to the death. You either struggle for survival, or you welcome death. I was welcoming death. My brain felt like it had had it. My heart wasnt banging as hard anymore against my rib cage, and I wasnt shaking with fear. It was as if my body had
Spared finally accepted that I cannot win. Tired and defeated, I kept thinking to myself: That is just fine. I give up, go ahead and kill me. The sooner, the better. I dont care anymore, and Im done with struggling to survive. But no words came out of my mouth. He raised his right hand and grabbed my breast and squeezed very hard. I was dragged for a few steps he finally threw my limp body on the ground in the side alley. In the faint light from the street I could see the outline of his body, and I could tell that he was a military guard, with his military hat, long coat, and gloves. A big long object bobbed in the
Spared dark shadow, and I realized it was his rifle. I was not able to see his face. He seemed so proud of himself to catch me. He took the knife out and stuck it in my neck under my chin, and said, Dont you move, or Ill cut your throat. And then he took a handkerchief out of his pocket, and wrapped it around my mouth very tight. Then he threw me on the ground on my stomach and put a handcuff on me. Soon he realized that the handcuff was way too big, and my wrists could slip out so very easily. Eventually he put both my wrists in one cuff and closed the lock. That hurt so bad, and I realized if I struggled, it would hurt even more. It felt like the claws of steel was digging in to my bones, but I remained
Spared quiet. He took a good look all around and then stood me back up against the wall again. He reached his hand and grabbed my breast again squeezing hard. Umm..He let out a pleasing sound, and came closer, grabbed my waist and moved me right next to him. With the other hand he pulled me forward to himself and grabbed my butt. I think I stopped breathing for a while. I am not sure if I couldnt breathe, or just didnt want to breathe anymore. When he felt certain that I am too scared to scream, he moved up my choker, and asked,
Copy Right
Spared So whats your name, and how old are you? And what are you doing out this late at night, dont you know we have a martial law in effect? Ha ha ha ha. His breath smelled like onions and an ashtray. I was disgusted and paralyzed, and couldnt spit out the words out of my mouth. Thats it; Im going to get raped. I gave in to death, not rape. Anxiety came over me when I realized it was no longer just a possibility and I will be raped right there and then. Even though I was seventeen years old, I never really knew what people do exactly when they have sex, but I knew rape is supposed to be forceful, painful and violent sex. Even peaceful sex was scary to me, let alone a forceful
Spared one. I just like most girls in Iran, lived a very sheltered life, and had no idea what sex was all about. I started to pray again, but this time I prayed to die instead of rape. He stopped and moved the choker back on my mouth. He nibbled on my neck, and he paused, moved me back and started spitting as if he tasted something very foul. What the hell is the matter with you? What do you have all over you? He wipes his mouth with his coat sleeve. He struggled to get something out of his coat pocket and finally brought out his flash light and shined it right in my face. As a knee jerk reaction I shut my eyes because of the bright light shining right in to my eyes. Oh my god, what happened to
Spared you? You are covered in blood. Are you hurt? Said the guard with surprising sudden caring tone in his voice. Again nothing came out of my mouth. He pulled the mouth choker out of my mouth, and got angry. Answer me, what the hell is wrong with you? Talk. I truly wanted to speak, so he wont yell at me anymore, but I felt like I was mute. My body started to react again, and started to shake uncontrollably. I tried so hard to talk but nothing was coming out.
Copy Right
Spared Oh my god, you dont say., are you?.. can it be? Are you one of the damn protesters from today in Zhaleh square? Say something! I tried again, I wanted so bad to explain why I was all bloody, and this was a bad mistake, a huge misunderstanding, and how I was stuck in the crowd and couldnt get out, and Im not the governments enemy, but what came out sounded like just air. He got frustrated and was shaking me vigorously, and yelling at me at the same time.
Copy Right
Spared Open your damn mouth and talk, or I have to assume that you are a protestor and shoot you right here like a filthy dog. He raised his hand and slapped me so hard that it made my ears ring. I had never ever been slapped in my life before, not even a simple spanking. The hard slap wasnt only physically painful; it was emotionally torturous and scarring also. It sounds strange, but I would have preferred to be shot than slapped. He was still shaking me and demanding an answer, but I could no longer hear what he was saying, because my ears were ringing so loud. Nothing came out of my mouth. He got even more furious with me
Spared and he grabbed me by the free handle of the hand cuff, and dragged me on the ground toward the lighted street. At the same time, he took out his walkie talkie, and was saying something in to it, which I dont remember what it was. My arms were stretching backwards, and the pain that it caused was excruciating. As I adjusted my eyes going from absolute darkness to the bright lighted street corner, I could hear the gravel grind together underneath me and feel the pain of my skin being ripped off my body as the soldier easily dragged my tiny body behind him. My shoulders seem to be close to dislocation or fracture, and I started screaming in pain.
Spared He stopped and kicked me very hard in my side that took my breath away, and said, Oh so you can scream but you cant talk? I see what kind of game you are playing. As the soldier continued to drag me to what seemed like an eternity, I was crying and coughing uncontrollably but couldnt get any words out of my mouth. The soldier stopped at a light post, grabbed me by my hair and stood me up, and strapped me to the light post. Ah what a relief that my arms are not being stretched backwards anymore. I would take beating and hair pulling over that anytime. I could see thru my swollen, watery eyes that I was at the end of a street. Not a residential street but a street full of shops, stores, and offices. I have walked
Spared in front of these stores many times to get to school every day, and sad that this time may be my last. There were also several trucks, and troop carriers parked to block the street. As I looked around I saw large amounts of fresh blood on the ground, and suddenly the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on my mind. My level of fear went up another gear when I saw the blood, because I knew that they must have killed someone in the very spot, to the same light pole I am tied to, and I was next. Once out of that street, we came to the road block where there were more trucks and troop carriers, and a lot more light illuminated the street. The setting was very similar to
Spared the one I had passed by several times. There was a fire in a metal barrel as well, and there was a street light illuminating the area where all the guards were all standing. There must have been 15 guards and 10 other personnel, and they all stood there staring at me. Some had strange grins on their faces, and some anger. No one moved or said anything for a few seconds. All eyes were on me; as if they were stunned of what they saw. I cannot imagine what I must have looked like, but it must have been very shocking. I just stood there trying to see what they are going to do to me next. Suddenly sounds of commotion broke the silence, and all the guards looked at the same direction. Some ran to it to see what
Spared was happening. It sounded like something was happening in the next road block. Loud and desperate screams was echoing in the street followed by shots. One, two, three, and then echo again, as the sounds of bullets shooting bounced back and forth off the buildings. Everyone looked like they were trying to figure out what had happened. A guard who was on a walkie talkie finally announced: Everything is ok, Officer from the north side said they had to take care of a curfew violator who tried to run away. A few guards clapped in happiness, and acted as if they had achieved an honorable task. Am I hearing it correctly?
Spared They are clapping hands in happiness of killing someone? Oh my god, how heartless can they be? And I suppose I am a violator too. Aaahhhh my god, I am going to die, I am going to die, I am going to die. I repeated on and on and on in my head after realizing this is it. My whole body started shaking out of control. I followed the guard who had found me with my eyes. He ran inside one of the tents, and was speaking with someone. I could see his shadow from the outside very clearly. He was very animated, as he was telling him a story using his hands a lot. It was obvious that he was so proud of finding me, and he was hoping for recognition. I saw 2 people exiting out of that lighted tent.
Spared There was a lot of talking going on among everyone, but all eyes were on me. An unfamiliar voice said something, but I didnt understand. It sounded like something specific to the Army lingo. Right after that about 15 soldiers lined up in front of me, never taking their eyes off me. There were no emotions in anyones face as if they were robots. They stood there for what seemed like a life time before anything happened. Is it supposed to be psychological torture to stall? I thought to myself, this is what people feel right before execution. The endless number of people, who had lost their lives in the name of political belief, must have seen and
Spared experienced what I am witnessing right now. I had heard so much in the news about people who were executed every single day, without any trial, because they were anti-shah, or pro-Khomeini or communist. What made me any different, especially now that it is obvious to them that not only have I violated the martial law, I also have participated in the Zhaleh square protest. But the truth was that I was not antishah, or pro-Khomeini, or communist, or Mujahidin, or I was so good at not having an opinion just like my mom instructed me. I never participated in any protests, except for my accidental participation same day of course. I never belonged to any political groups or went to any meetings,
Spared and avoided any one who wanted to get me to join them. However, they had numerous reasons and justifications to execute me, and I was not entitled to a trial. I remembered what my grandmother Shahrbanoo had told me once when I was only 7 or 8. She said there is an angel in the book of Koran called Gebrail who brought messages from god to Mohammad the Muslims prophet, and is also known to be the Angel of Death. When Gebrail comes to earth to take someone to heaven, anything that person would wish for will come true, if it is wished at the moment your soul steps out of your body. Anything expect for the wish to be spared from dying. That wish is
Spared impossible, because god will only send Gebrail, when your time is up. I closed my eyes, and said my last prayer, and wished for peace for my mother who was never going to see me again. I wished her strength to get thru the mourning process. Reaching from behind, a soldier placed a blindfold on my eyes and knotted it behind my head. I could still see shadows of men, and from under the blindfold I could see their shoes and the blood soaked ground. After a few torturous minutes of absolute silence and disbelief, I heard:
Spared
Ready
Said the same loud voice, but I couldnt tell where he was or who he was. Soldiers grabbed their rifles simultaneously, and got in to shooting positions, and pointed them right at me as if they were getting ready for execution. I took a deep breath in, and felt a sharp pain that squeezed my heart. I started hyperventilating, and could feel my heart beating faster than it has ever beaten before. I
Spared could not catch enough air in to my lungs. I struggled for air. The sky was pitch black, and it was as if even the sky was wearing black, mourning my upcoming death. I could see numerous shining stars spread everywhere like diamonds lying on black velvet cloth. Do they really believe that this skinny little girl is capable of committing such atrocity against the government to warrant an execution? I thought to myself.
Get set
Spared
Said the mans voice in charge. The clicking noises of the rifles echoed in the street. I was in middle of a circle with my hands tied behind my back, blindfold on, and facing at least 15 rifles pointing at me. It is a scene no teenager or any human being for that matter should ever see. The only thing I could think of was the fact that I needed my mom so very badly. The word scared does not even justify the emotional terror I was going thru. I felt streams of warm tears running on my cold face and fall on my bare feet with dry blood and mud on them. I thought it would have been so much easier if I were killed in the massacre. Somehow I
Spared didnt feel so lucky and spared anymore. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Nothing was happening, and all the soldiers were still standing there in front of me ready to shoot. All the other military people were standing around frozen, ready to witness this great entertainment. I felt like the defeated gladiator surrounded by mass murderers and lions, and he knows his time is up and this is the end. Defeated and abandoned by god, I lowered my head towards the ground. I was certain I had no guilt, and have done no wrong. My tears were still flowing and I felt them run over my face and throat, cleaning the thick dried up blood, and disappearing in my blood saturated shirt. It was
Spared as if my face was getting baptized clean, of all my alleged sins. God, I surrender, Im ready, please if this is your will, then take me away, please let me lean on your shoulders I said to myself. Stop Put your guns down. After a second of pause, all soldiers put their guns down and held them up in their arms pointing at the stars. I
Copy Right
Spared opened my eyes in disbelief hoping to figure out what just happened. What? Did I hear right? Was I dreaming, or did he just stop the firing squad? I thought to myself. I could see the silhouette of a man emerging in front of me. He stood there with such elegance, pride, and authority. His shoes were shiny, and looked different than all the other military shoes. He must be the one who was standing outside the execution line. He was the voice that ordered soldiers to get ready to shoot me, and he was the voice who stopped it from happening. Why?
Spared There was complete silence all around. I could see from under the blindfold that he came very close to me and stood in front of me. He ripped my blindfold off. He walked back and forth in front of me never taking his eyes off me. He walked around me in a circle .I was looking down and didnt know if a direct eye contact would mean defiance. Lift up your face so I can see it he said with an authoritative voice. I continued to sniffle and trying not to cry out. He motioned to a couple of guards. Take her to my tent, tie up her legs, and hands, and Ill be there shortly. Stay with her until I come in.
Spared Yes sir and two guards grabbed my arms and led me toward the lighted tent. As I was walking away, I heard, Get Officer Habibi on the walkie talkie from the north side, to come here quick, I need to speak to him right away said the Officer. I could see that he paced around with his hands holding behind his back. I was truly disappointed. I had talked myself in to being OK with death and at peace with the execution, and now what is going to happen to me? God why are you playing these games with me? Do you even care anymore?
Spared This sounds crazy, but there is a comfort and peace that goes with knowing you will be executed in a matter of minutes. Death is the end, the end of life, as well as the end of misery and sorrow. I needed certainty and predictability, that what I expect to happen, actually does. Now what was going to happen? Now I have a lot more uncertainty and anxiety. Death was the absolute promise of tranquility, serenity, and resolution for me. Nothing was certain anymore, and here I am faced with worse problems than death. A part of me wanted to act up, disobey, run, scream, something to make them shoot me. I guess I felt suicidal. I
Spared wanted to scream and say somebody please shoot me, I beg of you to shoot me, but not a word exited my mouth. I was taken to the lighted army colored tent that had kerosene light inside it. There were mosquitoes buzzing around it. They sat me down and tied me to a metal foldable chair, and also tied up my feet together with a rope. They also put a very strong duck tape on my mouth. I sobbed and I sobbed and held my head down. For the first time my thoughts were blank. I had absolutely no thoughts what so ever and emotionally numb. I was deeply depressed, tired, hopeless, and empty. I wasnt even angry with god for putting me thru this anymore. I just wished I was invisible or
Spared dead. The guards stayed right outside of the tent guarding. After some time, the guards became erected saluting, and then the Officer who stopped the firing squad came in and grabbed another metal folding chair and placed it back ward and sat on it. He crossed his arms and placed then on top of the back rest and rested his chin on top of his both hands. He took off his hat and placed it over a picnic type table that was there in the corner of the tent. I looked up, but had too much tears in my eyes to see him clearly. I tried squeezing my eyes, and my vision got better. For the first time, I saw this nameless Officer close up. He was a handsome man, had a scruffy face, and seem to be nice mannered. He was
Spared balding a little bit, and smelled like faded cologne. He seemed so very familiar, but I couldnt put my finger on who he really was. I kept thinking I have definitely seen him before. I kept waiting to see what he wants to say to me, and hoped that I wouldnt be slapped or kicked again. He brought his hands close to my face, and I squinted my eyes thinking he wants to slap me, but to my surprise he took off the tape over my mouth with one big and fast movement. I didnt scream but it hurt badly. He started to walk back and forth pacing the floor again. Do you know why you are still alive? Do you? The only reason I didnt kill you out there is your age and other
Spared reasons. I dont know how old you are, but you cant be any more than 15 or 16, and I dont want to kill a child. I have a young child myself. But regardless of how old you are we have full authority to shoot you for being out at this time of the night, and we also have been killing all the survivors of the Zhaleh square. So as you see, I could have ordered you to be shot, and I almost did. You just dont strike me as the rebellious type, but I just cannot picture where I have seen you. I need to know what your name is, your phone number, and your address. I also want to know where you got all this blood on you. You either killed someone, or you were one of the anti-shah protestors in zhaleh square today. There was
Spared a murder a few blocks from here tonight. A man was stabbed to death, and I think you could be the killer. So I needed to rule out that possibility also. So see I have to decide that if I dont execute you, which prison I should send you to instead. The maximum security prison for criminals or the Evin prison? You better start explaining, before I draw my own conclusions said the Officer in a calm and confident tone as he walked back and forth in front of me. Oh my goodness, Evin? I had only heard horror stories about the Evin prison. It was a maximum security prison for political prisoners. Everyone knew that once arrested and taken to Evin, you may never come back. They were
Spared notorious for savage tortures and executions. Why does he want my name or address? Is he going to make trouble for my parents too? My dad was a respectable army general, and I certainly didnt want to get him in trouble. Then I had a light bulb going on. Oh my goodness, I have an out I think, maybe I should mention my dads name. But what if they would go and arrest them also, or demote him because I was in the protest, and send him to the Evin prison. And murder? Me? I didnt even have a heart to kill a mouse, let alone murder a man. And I am so very innocent. I knew execution was a much better alternative.
Spared Again I struggled to say something but I could not say anything. Are you deaf? Said the Officer, raising his voice a bit. He stopped. First he walked around and kept staring at me, and said Ive seen you somewhere. I dont know if you were a previous arrestee in Evin, infecting the society, or may be a participator in high school riots. Or it may be somewhere else. At this point he went behind me. I wasnt sure what he was doing there. Suddenly I heard a very loud whistle in my right ear. I jumped up, and the chair went back with me, and I fell and bumped my head. The Officer put my chair back up with me in it, and placed it back where it was,
Spared and came back with a smile on his face. I could feel my goose bumps everywhere. So, I am glad to see you are not deaf. I had to clear that up. Then he yelled out, Everything is OK. I guess he wanted to reassure the guards that there was no trouble. He turned the chair around and sat back. He asked, Listen, I am not playing any games here, and I am going to ask you one more time, and if you are a good girl then great, if not, Im going to have to do something about it. Guard Hassan, guard Kaveh, come in now. I could tell they had a plan, but had no idea what it was going to be. I didnt mean to be defiant, I truly wanted to talk, but couldnt. No matter how hard I tried no words would
Spared come out of my mouth. One of the soldiers came in and stood behind me. The other one stayed by the tent opening. I turned my head around and my eyes met with guard Hassan, and he gave me a very angry look. My heart rate sped to an incredible rate, and I felt so very nauseated. I was shaking as if I was left naked in middle of the Antarctica. I force my mouth to open and say something anything, but it seemed impossible. I knew I was in trouble. I shook my head to mean I cant talk, but he must have thought I mean no. So, thats the way you want to play the game, and thats fine with me Said the Officer and got up and kicked his chair
Spared back. Everything they did look rehearsed and coordinated as if all three of them had practiced this move many other times. The chair flew out of the tent. I was untied from the chair, and grabbed by my hair, and thrown on the ground on my stomach. This reminded me of when sheep are sacrificed. Two people tie up the front and back legs together and another one hold the neck down and the third would slaughter the animal by slitting its throat. The Officer made a motion to the guard who was standing behind me, and in a flash he had a whip in his hand. I never saw where he got it from, but it looked like a black colored belt. I was trying to look up and see what they
Spared are trying to do to me. I saw the Officer in the corner sitting on top of the table, and lighting a cigarette, and he showed the guard 3 of his fingers. I dont think he wanted me to see that signal, but I did see it. Before I had time to figure out what the 3 fingers meant, I heard the guard counting
ONE
I felt the whip hit me across my back producing sensation of being burnt with thousands of red hot metal
Spared rods. I let out a blood curdling huge scream from the top of my lungs as I arched my back the whip dug in to my back. I have never known pain like that ever before. I had never even imagined any pain could be this severe. I was squirming and trying to catch my breath when I heard:
TWO
I got hit on my calf. Another heart wrenching scream came out of my mouth, burning pain went across my calves, and
Spared metastasized all throughout my body. I felt it ripping my skin open. It felt as if a burning iron was pressed tightly to my calf and stayed there. I tried to shake my leg to get rid of that sensation but I was unable. I felt like I was going to get sick.
THREE
I got struck for the third time on my wrist and right thigh. The feeling of being stabbed by a thousand sharp needles at the same time injecting me with hot boiling acid, took my
Spared breath away. I didnt scream that time. I truly think your body does something to protect you, to prolong your survival, as if to conserve your energy or your spirit. I think that something is emotional numbness which is a blessing from god. You still feel the pain with the same brutal torturing intensity, but you can just handle it better. The pain had penetrated not only all over my body, but also my soul. They jerked me back up to sit on the same chair. My head was spinning, and my vision was doubled, and I started getting sick. They put the garbage bin in front of me, and I threw up. It was as if my body was rejecting the pain, but the only thing that was rejected was my stomach bile. My
Spared back, wrist, and calves were stinging and shaking uncontrollably. They opened up the hand cuff that was digging in to my wrists. The Officer brought a notepad and a pen and put it on the chair in front of me. I wanted to be quiet and listen but I kept on crying hysterically. I was so afraid he was going to slap, whip, kick, or beat me again. He bent over and told me, Your 3 lashes would be doubled next time, unless you give me your name, address, and telephone number. Ill leave you with these guards, and you have 15 minutes to start talking or writing. He dropped his cigarette and stumped the butt with his shoe next to my feet, grabbed his hat and coat and left the tent. The 2 guards
Spared stood outside the tent where I could easily see them. I cried and cried and cried, and just couldnt stop. I thought to myself that perhaps the Officer understood that my inability to talk is not because of defiance, but of shock maybe. That is why he offered a notepad and a pen. I was surprised to see any compassion coming from him, if you can call lashing an innocent person compassionate. I lifted my wrist, and saw a burgundy colored one inch strip bruising behind my forearm, and there was an inch long tear. I looked behind my calf and realized that the skin was also broken and actively bleeding.
Spared I desperately tried to see if I could talk, and tried to say something, but nothing came out. I thought perhaps if I just wait a few minutes, until the pain and stinging and crying would go away, and perhaps I can talk then. I held my head in my hands, and wanted my head to stop spinning. I got sick again. I felt worse than before I threw up, and my calves felt like they were on fire. I stretched my right hand to grab the pad and pen, but it started trembling uncontrollably. So I put my right hand back on my lap again. I tried my left hand but it trembled just as bad. I thought of praying again, but realized that I didnt even want to pray anymore, as I felt like god had let me down. Why bother when my only savior
Spared had abandoned me? I felt angry and resentful. There was no good reason why an innocent girl should go thru all this pain and misery. I refused to find anything positive that could possibly come out of it. Gathering all my strength I moved both my hands toward the pad and pen and grabbed them both, and it took a lot of strength to not let them fall. My eyes were still very wet and blurry, but I managed to see the words on the pad. On the pad it was hand written: Name: Address: Phone number: Fathers name: Mothers name: I made a conscious choice to stop crying and feeling sorry for myself. I started writing, but my hand was shaking
Spared so very badly, and it looked like chicken scratch. I turned the pad over and started over in a new page. Again I tried, but it looked unrecognizable. So I tried again, and suddenly I could hear a man screaming from the top of his lungs. No, No, let me go. Please, please, Ill go back please He cried and pleaded. I could hear sounds of men struggling as if to tie him up, and then a single bullet ripped thru the dark night and then dead silence. He probably didnt stand still like I did. He sounded like he put up a fight and they had to kill him immediately. Killing him with one bullet versus 15 in a formal execution, what difference does it make? Another soul was wasted away. I could hear
Spared soldiers taking. Look, the bastard had a gun on him. Then several men could be heard talking among each other. Someone else said loudly, get him out of here, I dont want to look at this animal here anymore. Call the north road block to see if they need to have any bodies removed, so we can coordinate Yes sir. Only a few seconds later, it started again, the violent noises coming from outside the tent. The words were mumbled as if it was only a street over, but I could swear it
Spared sounded like my own incomplete execution words, and finally someone said Fire. Multiple gunshots all simultaneously went off and echoed against the surrounding buildings. The guards standing outside didnt look like they were affected at all by the executions that they just witnessed, and one said to the other, I told you, things always come in threes. To me that meant 2 people just got killed. I started hyperventilating, and started to cry and cry. I cant take it anymore. So much killing, so much blood, so many wasted lives, when is it going to end? I crawled and
Spared sat in the corner of the tent, hugging my knees in a fetal position. The guards looked inside, but didnt say anything or do anything. I felt like I couldnt get air deep enough in to my lungs and breathing very shallow and rapid. My lips, finger tips, and toes were all getting tingly. I was fully aware that I was having a full blown panic attack, but I just had to let it pass by. I tried not to think about the poor souls out there get shot to death. Again my rage against god was ignited. I had to stop hyperventilating, and I was running out of time. I knew I had to get my act together, and finish this list. I had no idea what the time was and how long I have been
Spared there. Third time was a charm, and I was able to provide all the needed information. It didnt look great, but it was legible. I was hoping that would be it. I hoped that they would let me go now, would they? Or was the next destination Evin? The guard that gave me the lashes came in and asked if I was done with the list? I handed the notepad with shaky hands. He looked at it and said, Good. He looked out the tent as if he wanted to see if there was anyone listening, and then came back inside and said,
Copy Right
Spared You should have been executed out there tonight. He hasnt forgiven anyone before. Go and thank your lucky stars that the Officer saved your life. I dont know why, but cant say, I dont know. He looked kind of puzzled, and left the tent with the notepad. My fear was that something worse than execution would be waiting for me. He left the tent, and I could hear walkie talkies going off. I sat in the corner of the tent for an eternity it seemed, and jumped every time I heard footsteps. My heart rate was going back to normal, and for the first time, I was starting to feel normal. I must have dozed off for a few moments when the Officer who was interrogating me came back to the tent with 3 other
Spared guards. They all had the look of fright and shock on their faces. I immediately thought Oh no, what are they going to do to me now? More lashes? Did I not do what he asked me to do? The Officer reached his hand out to me to help me off the floor, but I got frightened and covered my face and head in fear of getting slapped. To my surprise he grabbed my arm and picked me off the floor and pulled a chair for me. He told one of the guards to untie my ankles. Again he took off his hat and his coat, and laid them on another chair. He sat on the picnic table again. He just stared at me for few minutes, and sucked on his cigarette producing a thick cloud
Spared of smoke, in deep thoughts. Then he started to pace the floor back and forth, and looked like he was going to say something to me, but kept pausing as soon as he would open his mouth. The curiosity was killing me to see what the matter is. He smoked the entire cigarette before he finally sat back down. He asked the guards to step out and leave us alone. He finally started talking. I was about to check out your address, because we wanted to see what kind of parents would let their daughters out at this time of the night, and send some soldiers to show up at your house, and give your parents a rude awakening. I was very upset. I still dont know why you are all bloody the
Spared way you are. Then I noticed what you wrote on that paper, but I have to confirm with you, to see what I read was accurate since your hand writing is so hard to read. I know you cant talk, or maybe you are mute, but you sure can scream! Anyway you are going to have to move your head to say Yes or NO, do you understand? I nodded YES. Your name is Nastaran Akhavan. I nodded YES. Your address is 774 Hakhamanesh Street.
Spared YES Your fathers name is Dr. Aram Noori? YES He paused for a few second and said, Now you must tell me what his full title is, and let me tell you this makes every difference in the world. This will determine if you can go home free, or end up in prison, or even executed. Just relax, no need to be afraid, and just write it down. Oh sure, he expects me to relax right after telling me I may be sent to Evin or get executed. Why is he being nice to me all of a
Spared sudden? Isnt he the same guy who ordered executions of 3 people out there few minutes back? I obeyed and wrote down in the same bad hand writing General Doctor Aram Noori. I handed him the notepad. He looked at the note pad, and all the color from his face drained, and looked as white as a sheet. After pausing and staring at the notepad, he said, But you said your last name is Akhavan? I nodded yes. Then how can you be his daughter?
Spared I nodded yes and motioned to get the note pad. He gave me the pad, and I wrote: He has been my step dad ever since I was 8 yrs old. He read my note and asked, Who do you live with? Your biological father or General Noori? I wrote down, with my mom and General Noori. Oh no, I have put Mr. Dr. in jeopardy, this nightmare is just getting worse. Why are you bloody? You need to explain that to me. Ive been patient with you, and even stopped the execution,
Spared so you owe me an explanation. I wont hurt you anymore, I promise, now tell me, its OK. Were you in the protest today, yes or no? If I say I was in the protest, how is that going to look for my dad? He is working for the shahs regime, and here I am protesting against the very government that he works for? Perhaps the truth is always better than anything else. I motioned to get the pad, and took a long time to complete the following. He sat on the table and lit up another cigarette, as if he knew this could take some time. I wrote:
Copy Right
Spared Please believe me, because I am telling you the truth. I was in a class room taking an English test, when the riots of Zhaleh square started. I got mixed up with the protestors, and carried away to the square, and was among the people who got shot. Im not sure why or how I survived. I swear I did not purposely go there. You can verify that with my parents. My father is a general for the shahs government, why would I go protesting against it? I love my stepdad and would never do anything that might hurt him. I handed the pad back. He read it, and looked back up at me, as he scratched his scruffy face.
Spared I didnt think there were any survivors, as a matter of fact, we thought we had already killed the runaways, but looking at the way you look, Im sure we missed you. We knocked on every door, every building and searched for any survivors. This is a huge crime, this was very serious. How the hell did you get away with that? You know we have strict orders to kill any survivors, right? I nodded YES, and again tears started rolling down my cheeks. Now I have to explain to my superiors why I didnt kill you, so in a way you got me in trouble as well. Believe me
Spared there is no forgiving when it comes to martial law, violating curfew, or protesting against the government. You know how disappointed General Noori will be when he finds out you participated in the protest as involuntary as you say it was? They probably think you are dead, and you almost did get yourself killed several times today, didnt you? I nodded YES again; I just held my face in my hands and cried feeling ashamed and guilty. He took the notepad then put his coat and hat back on. He stood in the tent reading the note again, and said, Just relax, Ill be back. He looked as if he had overcome a
Spared difficult task, and he really didnt want to do it, but had to. The guard saluted him as he left the tent. There was nothing else to do but wait. Wait to see where my destiny is going to take me from here. I could hear the Officer speaking to someone, and I heard my Mr. Dr.s name mentioned, but unfortunately I could not recognize anything else. I felt a sense of relief for some reason, as if someone was telling me Its going to be OK. I felt so much more at peace. I was so tired, and had no will or energy left to run or walk anymore. I looked at my calves I notice the open cut was still oozing with blood. I felt very sad to cause my mom and dad so much worry. I felt like I
Spared had let my parents down. Contrary to what Shahrbanoo always told me, I was able to cheat Gebrail, the angel of death, numerous times that day. I went back on the floor and hugged my knees again, and rested my forehead on my knees. I woke up suddenly when I heard footsteps coming close to the tent. I guess I had dozed off again from the exhaustion. This time he brought one other Officer in to the tent with him, and the rest of the guards stayed at the opening. Im not sure why the other Officer was in the tent, or who he was. He was very tall and thin, and was wearing the same kind of hat as the first Officer. Neither of the
Spared Officers ever told me their names, and that seemed strange to me. He had several colorful medals on his coat. He had a very serious expression on his face, and never smiled. They pulled 2 chairs and sat on them. They didnt take their coats off this time. I didnt know if I should stand up or sit or what? The scruffy faced Officers came over, and lend me a hand to get up off the floor, and sit on the chair. Well, we have made a decision among ourselves, and have decided that perhaps you have indeed been caught in the protesters path, being that you had a class today as well. In any other circumstance, we would have had to shoot you by now, as it is dictated by the martial law, and also direct
Spared orders from Shah. If your life was spared for some reason, then you would be transferred to Evin, as a political prisoner and a traitor. I gasped when he mentioned the Evin prison. Oh god if you are still out there, and if you still care, let them kill me instead of send me to Evin. It is our decision that it would be best to take you home. A respectable young girl like yourself, especially a daughter of a general, needs to be home with her family which is where you belong, and not in the streets, continued the scruffy Officer. I was so very excited to hear the words going home, I didnt know what to do with all that excitement. I wanted to bend over and kiss
Spared his feet in gratitude, but didnt actually do it. I just started to cry again. Let me bring the car around, and I will take you home myself said the scruffy Officer, and they both left the tent. But he came right back and held my chin in his hand and said, No more crying OK, the terror is over, youll be home safe and sound in just a few minutes. He gave me a genuine smile and left. The other Officer did not say one word and I wondered why he had to come in at all. My guess would be that since the scruffy faced Officer had to make a decision against all rules and regulations and as important as sparing a prisoners life, he had to have a good
Spared reason. He wanted the other Officer to be the witness that I was a Generals daughter, so later on he wont get in trouble. Wow, what a difference in how I was treated. From certain death, to Ill take you home myself where you will be safe? I am going home, I am going home. I wanted to jump up and down, scream, shout, and celebrate that I am finally going home. I think I did jump a few times. I dont have to crawl, hide, escape, dodge bullets, and push dead bodies off of me anymore. It was such a fantastic feeling I cannot find the words that describe that kind of relief and happiness. I was still puzzled why did all this happen and why was I spared and not the others, but I didnt care anymore. As
Spared they walked out of the tent, I suddenly realized where I had met the scruffy Officer before, I finally got it. He was Gitas father. I remembered he was the father of the family who brought Gita, the little 10 year old patient to my fathers office for treatment of her uneven legs and limping, about one year ago. His name was Officer Nejat. When I served the father some tea, I remembered his bushy eye brows, mustache, and his scruffy face. Our eyes met momentary just to say thank you. Before I knew it, a military land rover pulled over. One of the guards walked me out of the tent I was in, and the cold air struck me like a ton of bricks. The frigid wind blew and
Spared wrapped itself around me, penetrating every cell of my body, and gave me chills. Officer Nejat was waiting for me outside and took his coat off and placed it around me. I gave him a look of gratitude and a smile. Everyone stared at me as I walked away and sat in the back seat of the land rover. I felt like a traitor in a way, because I heard with my own ears when 3 people lost their lives by execution that night for violating martial law and here I was getting out of certain death because of my dad. I felt undeserving. It didnt seem fair that so many had to die because they didnt have the privilege of having a father with a high military status. Shahrbanoo had an expression that said, Privileged people
Spared have a different color blood. I thought it would have been for the best if I had been killed too. I couldnt think of one reason why I was spared. I was struck with a bad case of survivors remorse. I tried to scoot down, so no one can see my face. I was so ashamed. Officer Nejat sat in the drivers seat driving me home as he promised. He turned on the heat for me. I noticed the clock showing 3:13 in the morning. It was still very dark out. As we drove away I saw the empty streets go by before my eyes. All the traffic lights were red and blinking. He drove away towards north without any regards to the traffic lights. There were barely any lights on, in any homes or buildings.
Spared There wasnt a soul in the streets anywhere, except for the guards at the road blocks. We had to stop at every road block still, but right after seeing who he was they would salute him and allow him to continue passing thru. Soldiers were still warming up their hands on the fire in the barrels. It was hard to believe that only hours ago these guards were my enemy and now they are smiling as we pass by? It was suddenly so easy to move thru the street and yet it seemed like an impossible, and life threatening task for me to accomplish by myself. I never introduced myself, my name is Officer Nejat. I like to tell you, that I do know your father on a personal level.
Spared What he did for my family was priceless and I feel like I owe him my life. Please forgive me, but it was my job to treat you just like any other violator of the martial law. You also participated in Jaleh square protesting. We almost killed you. If it wasnt for a fact that your face looked so very familiar and the fact that you are so young, being practically a child, you would have faced certain death. There was that nagging doubt that didnt let me move forward with giving the final word to shoot. Sometimes doubt is a good thing. God was with you young lady.
Copy Right
Spared Oh no, I dont think god was with me. What kind of god would allow such terror to happen to a girl who has done nothing bad to anyone? I know there is no way you would go protesting behind your dads back, right? I nodded no, and he looked at me in the mirror. I was still very bitter about what had happened and felt abandoned by god somehow. I felt like if he loved me he would have never let me experience Black Friday. I had lost my perspective. We were getting close to my house and I was so very excited to give my mom the good news that I
Spared finally made it home. I wanted to see her face light up and my dad to be relieved. Suddenly the weight of everything that had happened started sinking in. I kept having flash backs of the bloody bodies, the firing squad , the helicopters, blood splashing at me, death of Leyla, the severed are m with the wedding ring on it the stack of bodies in front of me, stinging of the lashes I received and the heart dropping moment I was grabbed by the guard. My thought process was interrupted when Officer Nejat continued: Im going to drop you off in the corner from your house and I will wait to make sure you go in safely. Im not going to come in this late in the middle of the night; it is not
Spared necessary. Im sure you will tell your dad all about today and tonight. Just tell him now that I owed him a favor. I got out of the car and made sure I left his jacket on the seat. I looked at him to say thank you for sparing my life, but I still didnt have a voice. I held his hand in my both hands, and he said, You are welcome. He knew what I was trying to say. I walked toward the front door of our building. I looked back and saw his car speed away. I do not have all the detailed memories of what exactly happened after I got home, but I do have a few that I can recall. My parents also told me a few things much later.
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Home again. Our house was on the first floor of a 5 story building. I entered our front door of the main building and closed it behind me. Then I climbed up 4 stairs to get in front of our door. When I got behind the door of our house which was part wood and part glass, I noticed the dim light in the living room which was directly behind the front door. I dont remember knocking or ringing the bell, but I do remember the door swinging open by my mom who just threw herself at
Spared me. She was whaling and crying, and out of control. She looked like she had been crying the whole time as her eyes looked extremely swollen and blood shot. My father was standing behind her and was crying uncontrollably also, but he pushed both of us in to the house, and away from the stair case. I am sure he didnt want the whole neighborhood to know about this. I knew it, I knew it. I knew god would answer my prayers and made this miracle come thru. Oh my god, thank you, thank you, my Nastaran is alive, thank you god for giving my daughter back to me said my mom, as she kissed me all over my face, my hands, my hair and my shoulders
Spared despite knowing how gross and disgusting I must have looked and smelled. I dont remember hugging and kissing back. I do remember I was standing there like a frozen stick, not having too many visible emotions. I was extremely happy and relieved, but dont know why I couldnt show it. However, there were tears running down my face. As we came in, my father forced my mother and I to separate as he was obviously worried about all the blood on me. Mehri, please stop, stop for a minute. Please let me see if she is hurt said Mr. Dr. as he looked at me with horror in his eyes. He started to check starting with my head, all the way to my feet. He pulled my shirt and skirt up and looked at
Spared my legs frantically. When he touched my left ear, I pulled back a little. It felt like a stinging sensation in my ear lobe. He pulled back my hair that was drenched in dried up blood and stuck to my ear. Finally he stopped and said oh thank god Mehri she is OK, just minor injuries, but I need to check her some more. He was talking to my mom as if I wasnt there, and perhaps it was because he understood that I was in a shock. My mother asked me, Honey what happened to you? Where were you till now? But I just stood there not saying anything. I wanted to say something, but had numerous confused emotions going on at the same time. I was sad,
Spared glad, scared, happy, and terrified at the same time. I could not understand why I still felt terrified knowing I am standing in my house, and protected by my parents. Nothing came out of my mouth. Their voices were getting muffled in my ears. Leave her alone Mehri, dont interrogate her, she is obviously in shock. What is important is to make sure she is OK physically right now said Mr. Dr. He sat me down in his favorite chair in the living room, without any care that my bloodied and muddy clothes would stain it. It felt so good to finally sit in a soft chair. My whole body was stinging as if a thousand bees were stinging me at the same time. My mom
Spared kept wringing her hands as she waited patiently until my dad was done checking me. He stuck a thermometer in my mouth, and had my mom hold it for me. As she held the thermometer, she caressed my hair, and stared in to my eyes ever so lovingly with such worry in her eyes, and recited a prayer silently. Mr. Dr. continued with placing a blood pressure cuff on me quickly and used his stethoscope to listen to my heart and lungs. He looked at my feet, and made a face. He took the thermometer out of my mouth and handed it to my mom and asked her to read it. My mother said 40 Celsius degrees, which is the equivalent of 104 Fahrenheit. He also opened my mouth, shined a light in
Spared both my eyes, and looked in my ears. I was cooperative and responded to commands. My mom kept saying to my dad, Please tell me the truth? Is she? Is she OK? My father turned to her and said, Thank goodness, she is OK physically from what I can tell. She is one lucky girl, and you know god must have been with her and spared her. The only thing wrong with her is, as you can see, she is running a fever, her feet are badly cut and blistered, road burn on the side of her hip and back, ripped skin on her calf which is bleeding, and a nick on her left ear. She has been thru hell it seems. I cant find the source of her fever, but Im sure she is not in any danger.. She is also badly dehydrated
Spared and she needs fluids. See if you can get her to drink something, and give her a bath please. My mother ran to the kitchen and came back with a big glass of water and she put it up to my lips. I was so thirsty that I grabbed the glass with both hands, gulped down the whole glass of water and finished it all, but unfortunately as fast as it went down, I threw it all up. Mr. Dr. brought a big towel and said to my mom, Its OK, dont worry, she just drank it too fast. Why dont you give her a bath because I have to dress her cuts and disinfect her feet. We dont want secondary infection now on top of whatever is causing her fever. Give her a cool bath to bring her fever down.
Spared My mother ran to the bathroom to start the bath for me. In the mean time, my dad held my hand and caressed it. I could see he was in deep thought. He palpated my abdomen to see if I have any pain, but I didnt. He sat by my feet and told me, Whatever happened to you tonight, it will be OK. Dont you worry about anything at all. The most important thing is you are here with us, safe and sound. We are so lucky to have a daughter like you and so grateful you are home with us safe. Your mom and I care about you so very deeply. I felt the surge of love thru his hands absorbed in to my hands, engulfing my body and in to my heart. I thought to
Spared myself, he is an absolute angel and felt such deep love for him. I looked at him and smiled, and he smiled back. By then my mom came to the living room again and, stood me up and walked me in to the shower. She tried taking my shirt off, but parts of it were stuck to my skin. She didnt want to rip it off of my skin in fear of causing more injury. She just asked me to go and sit down in the bath tub with all my clothes. Our shower had a hand held shower head as well as a regular shower head. She used the hand held shower head to wet me all over as I sat in there not moving at all to help. I rested my head on my knees and tried to relax. She was able to take my bloody clothes off and threw
Spared them in a bucket. I saw the blood of thousands of people run off of my body in circles and swirl down the drain. Oh what a metaphor for loss of human life to squander away, and drain it down to the sewer like unwanted waste. Those lives did not deserve to be drained down like dirt this way, but they did. I wonder sometime, if someone did a DNA analysis on that blood mixture, how many people would that identify? But there is no test to identify the wasted human hopes and dreams. My mom washed me all over, and must have kissed me a hundred times. Her face was sweating as she washed me so very gently. It was very obvious that she was trying to
Spared hide her sadness for what happened to me with her smiling face, but she could not hide the tears of joy that was running down her face. She dried me up with a very large thirsty towel, and put on my flannel pajamas. Ahhh that felt so very good and comfortable. She brushed my hair and brought me back to the living room. My dad put the thermometer back in my mouth again and held it. He turned to my mom and said. It is 38 now, still too high of a fever. See if she can drink some more water now. My mom placed another glass of water to my lips, and I drank half of it. This time it stayed down.
Spared Honey do you think you can tell us where you were and what happened to you? my mom said. Suddenly that question triggered hundreds of flashbacks of all the horror I had faced that day. The chanting of the enormous crowd, the helicopters, the rain of bullets, blood and guts splashing, body parts flying, running for cover in the streets, count down to my executions and the scream of the man begging for his life right before he was executed, all ran before my eyes, and I started to scream hysterically. I stood up and ran towards the door. My dad jumped up and grabbed me and tried to drag me back in to the room which was the farthest away from the door. Both my mom and dad
Spared tried to hold me down. I was kicking and screaming, hallucinating I was being captured again. I didnt even recognize that I was at home already. The confusion of what was happening and the discrepancy of the present vs. the past, gave me a sharp but awful headache. I felt a sharp and stinging sensation in my upper thigh, and I saw my father giving me an injection of some kind. Very quickly I realized that I wasnt being captured, I was in my own home. Strangely, I felt very perplexed, but very relaxed at the same time. My heart beat slowed down, my body got limp, and I fell into a very deep asleep. A much needed long sleep.
Spared I didnt know it then, but my father injected me with the medication called Lorazepam, which is a strong tranquilizer. He had it prepared when I took my bath, as he expected the flashbacks would be common. It wasnt that long ago when my sister had a breakdown when she got caught in her universitys riots. Her experience was not at all in the same degree as mine, but she did suffer some emotional trauma. My dad had to give her tranquilizers as well when she had her flashbacks. So when my mother took me to give me a bath, he prepared a shot for me just in case. My parents recollection was that I slept and slept for long periods of time and my father continued to monitor my
Spared vital signs. I was awakened to be fed and taken to the bathroom, but before long I would have flash backs again and had to be injected again. This cycle continued for about 3 to 4 days. I dont remember having any dreams during this time. On the fourth day I woke up with a pleasant breeze passing thru the room. I opened my eyes thinking the breeze was coming thru my open window. I could hear the heavenly sound of Fur Elise melody playing in the distance. Surprised, I didnt recognize where I was, but there seemed to be bright light, and fog passing thru. I looked in all directions, and didnt see anyone, but it felt right
Spared to go towards it. I felt a loving hand caressing my hair which was dancing in the sweet breeze filled with aroma of Jasmine blossoms. I felt secure, and at peace, and there was no worry, sadness or sorrow. A feeling I had not felt for a very long time. It was as if I was weightless. It was a sweet surrenderup and down, side to side; I drifted on the heaving foamy waves of a gentle sea, allowing it to carry me to whichever direction it flows just like a white dove feather. The presence of god was very strong, and felt everywhere, and it felt like the breeze was taking me closer to him. A quiet whispera gentle voicea murmura lullabymixed in the breeze and I heard the wordsyou will live to tell
Spared you will live to prosperwhen the time comes, do not hold backdo not hold back.they are counting on you. I felt so blessed, loved and forgiven.
I woke up startled and disoriented, and found myself in my own bed. I realized that I have been sleeping for a while, and ah what a peaceful dream I was having. I knew for certain that it was not a dream. God had indeed spoken to me and forgiven me for doubting him as he whispered those comforting words in my ears. I sat back on my bed and looked at the flowered wallpaper everywhere. I had picked
Spared the floral wallpaper and my curtains myself not too long before that day. It was safe, and familiar. I could hear the Fur Elise, my dads favorite classical music, being played on the piano from the formal living room. I was still wearing the flannel pajamas. I stood up, and felt stinging and swelling in the soles of my feet. My feet were wrapped in dressing like cloth and I also had dressing over my left calf. I ignored it and limped towards the door of my room which was cracked open, and the dim living room light was crawling into my room. I had no memory of anything bad or traumatic at all. As a matter of fact I dont remember recalling Black Friday at all. At least not at that time anyway. My mind was
Spared completely renewed, and blank. I opened my room door and noticed there was no one there. I could hear my mom frying something in the kitchen. I smelled aromas of herb stew and rice coming from the kitchen, and it made me so very hungry. That was my most favorite food. I looked at the clock, and realized it was 8 oclock. Then I looked at my bedroom window, and it looked dark outside, and I realized it had to be eight pm. Very confused, I followed the Fur Elise music to our formal living room and found Mr. Dr. playing the piano. That was so soothing to my soul. I stood there and watched him play the piano for a minute or so. He suddenly stopped and looked back and saw me standing there.
Spared He looked startled by my presence, and got up and came towards me, touching my forehead, and asked me, Did you sleep good sweet heart? I did. Do you know why I just wake up this late? Is it eight pm? I said with a lot of confusion. Oh well, yes it is. You were sick, running a fever, and you were sleeping to get well. There is nothing strange about that. Are you hungry? said Mr. Dr. Oh that was music to my ears. Im starving dad
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Spared Why dont you go and have a seat in the living room and Ill have your mom bring you something to eat, how does that sound? That sounds great thank you He made a dash and took the flight of 3 stairs in to the kitchen. That was another odd event. My father, like most of Iranian men, had never set foot to the kitchen before. I was puzzled by his behavior. I sat down in our living room looking at everything and feeling very blank and strange. It was as if I had forgotten something, or like I cant remember what has recently happened. I figured it is probably because
Spared I was asleep for a long time. I heard my moms footsteps rushing over to the living room and as she got there she looked at me with such surprise and with lots of enthusiasm. She acted as if she hadnt seen me for a while. She kissed me on my face and forehead followed by tight hugs. Oh thank god, your fever is broken, how do you feel sweetheart? Hungry at all? said my mother. Oh yes I am mom, I can eat a cow I said as I was giggling. My moms face lit up when she saw me smile and back to myself again. I remember a few nights after Black Friday;
Spared I woke up in middle of the night drenched in sweat squatting and hiding behind my bed. I was having a nightmare, or perhaps it was a flash back. I remembered what had happened on Black Friday, but no gory details. I was terrified, but quickly realized that it was just a nightmare and I am home and safe. I tried to analyze it in my head what happened, and why I was spared, but I wasnt really able to. The more I thought about it, the worse it got. I was trying to come up with all the reasons I didnt die, but the more I did that the guiltier I felt. I closed my eyes and tried hard to go back to sleep, but couldnt. I finally turned on my study light, and grabbed my pink notebook in which I had doodled a lot,
Spared written lots of poetry, and drew lots of pictures. I started a letter to god. I was so very confused and guilty about why I was spared. I felt undeserving, dirty, worthless, and downright harsh on myself for still being alive, and then after that I would feel guilty for feeling so ungrateful. It felt good to put my thoughts into words. Here is the actual letter in Farsi and the translation in English as well.
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A letter to God I have a lot of questions my God. Why did I remain alive in Zhaleh square? Was my blood any more red than other people? Why did everybody have to die except for me? I know that you give life and you take life, but why? Why didnt I die? I feel like as long as I live I have to make up for it.
Spared Tell me God, did you have a different plan for me? Did you let me live for my Mom? What about the rest of the people? How do I forgive myself knowing all these innocent people are killed? I wish I was dead too. I wish I was killed. I wish I was killed instead of the small children who lost their lives. How do I ever forget this day? Thank you for letting me live, but mostly for my Mom.
Spared How do I get rid of this nightmare that I have every night of this event? I still feel the warmth of spilled blood on my face. I still feel the weight of the bodies that were stacked on top of me. I still hear the scream and cry of people. I can still smell the blood. I can still hear the bullets.
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Spared I am still alive. I am still not killed. Am I still Nastaran or not? I still have headaches. I can taste the blood in my mouth. My ear still hurts. I am still alive. Still alive. Still alive. And I shouldnt be. God please answer me because I still have a lot of questions.
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Spared After writing this letter to god, I never talked about Black Friday incident again with my parents or friends until almost 30 years later. My parents made sure they never started any conversations about it as well. No one was told about what happened to me on that day. It was extremely risky and unsafe to tell anyone I was mixed up with the protestors, in fear of placing Mr. Dr. in jeopardy, since he belonged to shahs army. Even though I knew what happened, but somehow it was as if I tucked the details of Black Friday deep in my subconscious, and locked it away for a long time to come. I believe it was a survival mechanism, as my brain tried to protect me, and knew I wasnt ready to deal with the
Spared horrifying details just yet. For the next 30 years or so I knew that Black Friday took place, but didnt have any details, or the extent of my involvement about how graphic it was. My memory eventually came back in July 2008, in process of writing this book with the help of worlds most wonderful counselor, and my good friend Mili Naugle MFT. I never gave my mom or Mr. Dr. the details. I asked her once or twice about what happened when I got home, but never told her about what actually happened to me. I couldnt tell her even if I tried, as I had blocked all the details completely, and had no memory to recall. She never pushed me to give her any information, because she was afraid that I would
Spared have a terrible flash backs. I carried great shame in being a victim, because I was the one who got to live, and all the others had to die. I carried the survivors remorse for about 30 years. Life was back to normal around my house. Neda was in New York, staying with one of our relatives, and applying to different universities across the USA to major in architecture. My mom was so relieved that she was out of the country, and out of harms way. My mom always cried so hard after getting off the phone with Neda. She missed Neda so very terribly.
Spared Zhaleh square massacre pushed the nature of protesting into a new gear. The black Friday massacre made the people more resentful and heightened the level of hatred towards shah. To them it was proof that shah is a heartless murderer he is capable of killing thousands of his own people. People also claimed that the martial law was declared late in the evening on September 7, 1978, and most people didnt even know about it. Numbers of victims on Black Friday were never reported accurately and it greatly varied based on the sources. According to the Shahs government, the death toll was only 53 which included one female only. According to the pro Islamic revolution death
Spared toll was over 10,000. I though, was certain that the actual number was around 6000 to 8000 approximately. It is interesting to see pictures of dead bodies on the internet that had numbers on them as that was the only way to keep the toll. A clip of this video shows many bodies lying next to each other with numbers 2963, 2964 .. and so on, proving that it was way beyond 53! People only had one mission, and that was to get shah out of the country. By the end of September 1978, the country was changing for the worse. There were daily protests, bombing, shooting, building burning, cars burning, and people killing one another for their strong political
Spared beliefs. Graffiti painted every wall in Tehran flavored with hatred towards Shah, or demanding Ayatollah Khomeinis return. Not a day would go by without hearing or reading about explosions and shootings. The list of dead people in the newspaper obituary kept getting longer and longer. The sounds of bullets and shooting could be heard very frequently in all streets, even in residential areas. It was as if everyone knew someone who was killed, arrested, and most people wore black in the streets. Getting out of the house was always a risk and people did not go anywhere unless it was absolutely necessary. I was forbidden to go anywhere or talk to anyone unless my mother was with me.
Spared By this time Shah had already tried all the tactics available to him. According to some sources it was believed that shah was advised by the United States as well as his own royal parliament to drop a bomb in Qom, and kill hundreds of thousands ofpeople at once in an effort to scare people enough to stop protesting. Shah was too scared to go ahead with that plan. The country was getting more and more unstable with no sign of improving. People from all walks of life, from the labor, teachers, merchants, engineer, professors, all the way to judges in superior courts, all went on nationwide strikes, leaving their work, placing the already broken economy, and risk crippling the country further. Our
Spared prime minister resigned and was replaced again and again by other people who couldnt hold the job. They were too afraid of their safety. Several important military figures and government heads left the country. People themselves were leaving the country in large numbers. Anyone who could afford a ticket and had a little bit of money saved up, fled the country fearing imprisonment if the regime changes, or fearing for their safety for their families. The shahs regime was getting weaker and weaker. To scare people, there were tanks roaring in the streets, and military trucks with armed guards in every corner. People thought that it was a way of intimidating them, and paid very little attention to
Spared them. It wasnt just pro Ayatollah Khomeini followers, there were other followers such as pro communist, and pro mujahedin protesting also. There were rumors that shah might be fleeing the country himself, very soon. After Black Friday took place, Shah appeared on TV apologizing for the way things were handled, stated that he had heard the peoples cries, but it was too late. The foundation of trust was badly damaged. There were also rumors that Shah himself was in the helicopters flying over Zhaleh square on Black Friday, running the show. People wanted him gone, and looked forward to having Ayatollah Khomeini come back
Spared to Iran to start mending the damage, in hope and promise of peace and prosperity. My mom didnt allow me to watch too much TV in fear that it would trigger flashbacks again. We were worried about my dads unfortunate situation as a general for Shahs army, and how that was going to play out if Shah indeed left the country, and was replaced by Ayatollah or anyone else. There were strong rumors that once the government changes, all the present high ranked officers in Shahs regime will be executed. He was obviously very nervous himself but tried not to show it. He had tried to retire for a long time. Each time he tried, they begged him not to, and
Spared bribed with a promotion to a higher status. He would decline higher status, and just wanted to retire in peace. His requests kept getting denied. His health was declining, and had angina attacks often. He had a history of a mild heart attack, and we all worried about his health, and a possible repeat heart attack. We felt helpless seeing him walking around pale faced, and holding on to his chest in pain. He kept promising if it got worse he will go to Emergency room, and still insisted he can take care of himself. After all he was a physician. He was chewing on Nitrogen glycerin pills to quiet his heart very often. Mansoor, one of Mr. Dr.s younger brothers who was an ambassador to Korea for Shahs
Spared government resigned his position and was leaving the country to the United States. He begged my dad to leave as well, but my dad kept answering him by saying, I have done no wrong to anyone, and my conscious is clean and clear, and I will not exit the country like a coward. His other younger brother, Jahangir, was a surgeon and a trauma specialist working in Washington for many years, and offered my father shelter in the U.S., but again my father declined. My father had never ordered anyones death or execution, had never accepted any bribe from any of the oppositions group or anyone else. He was stressed but not worried. He had a deep faith that if his time was up he
Spared would get killed, but if it wasnt his time, then he was safe to stay in Iran. He also believed strongly that everything happens for a reason. I had no desire to go anywhere, and just walking outdoors would make me hyperventilate. I remember being confused about why I would get so nervous going outside my house but I blamed it on the obvious changes and countrys instability. It was as if I had completely forgotten about what had happened to me on Black Friday. When we absolutely had to go somewhere, I remember clenching on my moms arms until she would tell me to let go because I was cutting off the circulation in her arm. I spent long hours
Spared talking to my high school friends from our house phone, and they never mentioned the Black Friday to me either. They were just as bored as I was, while we all waited to see if schools reopened again. I am not sure if they were instructed by my mother not to mention Black Friday, or if they chose not to. I dont remember ever thinking about Leyla as if she was an erased memory that only lived in the deep corners of my subconscious. Since my other friends didnt really know Leyla, they naturally never brought up her subject either. I entertained myself painting or drawing most days, and listening to my music tapes. Among my favorites were ABBA, Elvis, Santa Esmeralda, Bee Gees, Googoosh,
Spared and Ebi. My goal had always been to be a nurse, and had planned on going to nursing school in the city of Sari by the Caspian sea. With the closure of all schools, that dream seemed to be slipping away from me. If I didnt finish high school, there was no way I could take the nationwide entry exam called Konkoor. What was I going to do? Most of my friends from high school either had planned to get married, or going abroad to continue their education. I already had the marriage proposal to marry Farhad, and I had to make a decision to either say yes, or no to his proposal. He would call frequently from Netherlands, to see if I have made up my mind, and remind me that he
Spared missed me. My mother would remind me at times, that I have a decision to make, and I must be honest with Farhad, and give him an answer soon. When speaking to him on the phone, he tried to paint a picture of a comfortable, wonderful life, where he would take care of everything I needed as a husband, both financially and otherwise, so I could concentrate on getting my high school diploma followed by going to college. I had to learn Dutch of course first before I started school. However, upon hanging up, I would be filled with doubt. The picture he painted was so very perfect, and at times I would feel stupid not to take that chance. My friends told me I was indeed stupid for not jumping at that
Spared chance, and should say yes to his proposal, and be on my way to Netherlands already. My friends kept telling me there was no future in Iran, and how they wished they had the opportunity to get out of the country even if it meant getting married to someone. I had watched some of my high school friends who had gotten married during these difficult times. They had all planned on not allowing the married life effect or interfere with their plans regarding continuing with their career goals, but their plans never materialized. They got pregnant, and had one kid after another, and the dreams of getting higher education, or achieving their carrier goals, would go down the drain. I certainly didnt want to join their
Spared group of hopeless dreamers, and didnt want a crying baby on my hip to care for, not yet anyway. I really wanted to become a nurse and establish my career first. As a nave 17 year old girl, I didnt know pregnancy can be prevented, and assumed that getting pregnant is a definite consequence of getting married. As a young girl, my mom had warned me many times that even kissing a man would result in pregnancy, so it only made sense to me that marrying someone and having intimate relationship with a man would do the same. In my mind any contact more advanced than a hand shake, between a man and a woman will result in pregnancy. There
Spared was no sex education available for kids my age in schools, as the subject of sex was taboo. Whatever information we as young girls had obtained, was from discussing what our parents have told us, and it was mostly exaggerated lies, and a desperate attempt to prevent us from losing our virginity. When my mom put her foot down about making a decision in regards to Farhads marriage proposal late in September 1978, I decided that marrying him was not what I wanted to do. I was infatuated but not in love, and didnt feel any urgency in getting married to anyone just yet. Getting married was just not something I felt ready to do. With that decision made, I called Farhad and told him that I was not
Spared going to marry him or come to Netherlands. Farhad was very upset and heartbroken, and tried to change my mind. He told me that he loved me very deeply, and he would be a good husband if I only let him prove it to me. He asked me to come over to Netherlands anyway, and see for myself how life will be before we got married. He promised he will be a gentleman, and we would live in his house but in different rooms, until I made a decision. Even though Farhad was Iranian, and was born and raised in Iran, he had lived in Netherlands since he was in early 20s. He had forgotten that things like living together are not practiced in Iran and they are very much forbidden.
Spared That did not make any sense to me, and besides, my family would never allow me to live with a man under any circumstances. They worried that he would pressure me in to having premarital sex. Even though Farhad was my stepfathers brother and family, the rule would still be the same, and a young unmarried girl will not live in the same house with a man. Cohabitation before marriage was strictly forbidden, and disrespectful, and cause great shame to both families. Iranian customs dictated that if a man truly loves a woman, he would solidify it by marriage. A true gentleman would never suggest to live together, or engage in sexual acts before marriage, as it would be dishonorable and
Spared disrespectful for the woman and her family. Besides, once the virginity is gone by premarital sex, then that woman loses her chance of getting married to a man. Any man would expect his bride to be virgin, and without it the foundation of marriage is missing. I remember hearing stories of girls who fell in love with men, who promised them love and marriage, and convinced the girl that since they are going to be married anyway, its OK to have sex. However, once the act of sex is done, they would disappear, and the girl loses her most valuable possession, her virginity. At times these men would claim they dont want to marry the girl they had sex with, because
Spared if she was so easy to give up her virginity with him, she would be easily manipulated in to sex with other men as well. They justified to themselves that the fact they tricked these women in to having sex was a test, in which these woman failed miserably. The fault would always fall on the womans lap for being a whore, promiscuous, and unfit to be married. Some families would take matters in their own hand and find the man who did it, and force him to pick either a shotgun wedding, or be shot. These drastic measures were fueled and heated more especially if there was also a pregnancy involved. Some families would be OK with just knowing the daughter is married off and the family
Spared is not shamed, where as some families would force a divorce soon after the shotgun wedding, so they are not stuck with the man who has committed such despicable acts. My mother certainly told me that, no man will respect a woman who would agree to give up her virginity, even to the man she loves or whether there are certain marriage plans in place. I was convinced that I will remain a virgin until the day I got married and that was that. It was pretty obvious that I was not going to live in Farhads house unless I was married to him, but I had made up my mind not to be his wife. My mother spoke to Farhad herself explaining that we live in Iran, and we go by those traditional rules, and living
Spared together is not an option he could exercise. She did tell him though that the decision of getting married is entirely Nastarans, and I appreciated that so very much. Farhad told my mom that he would be perfectly happy to marry me first before I even get there, to clear up any bad intentions. With that cleared up it was entirely up to me to decide whether to marry him or not. Finally I had to have a talk with my mom about Farhad, even though it seemed very awkward to discuss that situation. I asked her: How do I know if I love him or not? Does anyone ever know? Did you know when you married Mr. Dr.?
Spared It sounds really complicated but it is not really. Let me tell you my story. The day Mr. Dr. proposed to me, I started jumping up and down with happiness, and first thing I did was to call your grandmother to give her the good news. There wasnt a doubt in my mind that we loved and belonged together. I have never regretted that decision. Now you tell me, is this how you feel for Farhad? Suddenly all the doubt in my mind evaporated and it became crystal clear to me what I needed to do. I knew I need to do the right thing and let Farhad go, so he can be free as well and perhaps pursue a different relationship. My friends told me that I had lost my mind and I was stupid, but
Spared somehow I knew that I had made the right decision to follow my dreams of better education. Decline of the marriage proposal, propelled me to the next decision I had to make, my education. My mom and dad sat me down, and wanted to speak to me about leaving the country to obtain higher education. That was bitter sweet news to me. On one hand I had to say goodbye to my dreams of going to the nursing school in Sari. On the other hand, I was happy to know I can pick up where I left off and get my high school diploma and then go to college, even if it meant going abroad. I knew if I stayed in Iran, it was going to be a long while before I was able to go back to school.
Spared With that in mind, and burning with the desire of going to nursing school, I agreed to move forward to finding a school abroad. At that time in Tehran there were agencies which would coordinate finding a boarding school for students looking to leave Iran in search of higher education. Filled with fear and excitement, the day finally came for my mom and I to go to our appointment in the agency, to discuss where I was going to go, and how I was going to get there. As we entered the agency, I could see that it was such a busy place filled with anxious parents and teenagers my age filling out applications, and waiting in a waiting room. There were lines everywhere, and the phones rang off the
Spared hook. The waiting room was filled with people, and my mother and I had no place to sit. A sense of urgency could be felt all around the room, as if people were afraid that the world was going to run out of boarding schools. It reminded me of the lines we used to stand in to get milk, rice and cooking oil, when there was a shortage of them during the revolution. Everyone would be trying to cut in line, and push one another in hopes of making it to the finish line first, fearing there would be no more rice or cooking oil left to buy. Every once in a while, someones name would be called and an agent would take you in. People kept going to the reception complaining that they have been waiting too long,
Spared and when is their name going to be called? I had no idea so many people were getting out of the country just to go to school. Luckily we had filled out our applications ahead of time, and just had to turn it in. Our appointment time was also previously made but it seemed like it didnt matter, and we had to wait long amounts of time anyway, whether we had an appointment or not. After 2 hours, finally our name was called. Mrs. Noori, and Nastaran Akhavan. My mom and I stood up. Come this way with me please. We sat down in the room facing the agent who had a huge stack of papers in front of him.
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My name is Hamed, and Ill be your agent. So you would like to find a school abroad for your daughter, is that right? My mother answered back, Yes we are hoping to send Nastaran to another country to complete her education. We have not gone thru an agency before, how does this work, do we pick a country, or you tell us where you have availabilities?
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Spared Very good questions. Right now we still have availabilities in US in several different states. How do you feel about that? Before I could speak, my mom said We have never been to America, what is it like over there? Well let me be honest with you. Life is definitely not the same over in America as it is here or even in Europe. I have been there myself in two different states, and from what I can gather, they are a lot less family oriented as we are in Iran. People drive a lot to get to work and back, and as far as eyes can see there are numerous freeways connecting
Spared different towns and even states together. People spent long periods of time driving their very large cars here and there, even if it is just to go to the store. You have to have a car to get by in America. Families live far apart. Parent may live in one state, where as each children could live in another state. They get together in major holidays such as Christmas and Thanksgiving, but that is about it. Also traveling to America takes about 30 hours of flight time. I felt very discouraged hearing all this, and I guess it was obvious in my face that I was not very amused by this. The agent continued, On the other hand Europe is different. There is still that small town feel to it. Public
Spared transportation is still abundant and small shops and supermarkets can be found in every corner. You dont necessarily have to have a car. Families are not separated by massive states and freeways. We still have a few spots open in England, which is my first recommendation. If you have already studied English in school as most of our students have, your transitioning to study in another language would be much easier as well. There is only 4-5 hours of flight between Tehran and London. What do you think young lady? said the agent as he turned to me. I felt like I hit the jack pot. Everything about it made sense, and I felt as if I would be studying in a different
Spared country, but yet so close to home. English was also a strong subject in school for me, so I knew that would be very helpful as well. I like the idea of England. What cities do you have availability in? And is this a boarding school or just a school? I said with curiosity in my voice. I felt like I am finally able to control my own future education. The school I recommend is located in Watford, England, which is 19 miles north of London. It is a boarding school and the school is on the same grounds. The building is actually a beautiful old castle, which was built in 1912. It
Spared belonged to an English Lord for a few years that lived there with his wife and daughter. The legend says that his daughter was killed when she was horseback riding, and was thrown off. The Lord went in to deep depression, and was not able to get himself out of it. His wife left him unable to deal with the death of their daughter, but he stayed in that giant castle by himself and his servants for a few years before committing suicide. After that the castle was remodeled to be a Masonic school for boys. The decline in number of boys attending the school led to its closure. The castle was used in a few movies due to its beauty and location, but years later was purchased by an American
Spared chain University called United States International University, or USIU. The castle was remodeled and put in use as a high school/college. USIU has four campuses around the world, with the other branches located in Kenya, Mexico City, and San Diego. The school is an American system school not English, which is a blessing. If it was run by the England standards, you would have to have 13 years of high school education to be able to get a high school diploma. The fact that the school is run by the American standards allows you to enter college one year sooner. In other words, you have the best of both worlds, the ability to live in Europe and be closer to home, but follow the American standards. Another
Spared benefit is if you ever change your mind and want to go to America, it would be easier because they have a campus in San Diego, and you will get a visa and can transfer with minimal difficulty. I have signed up many Iranian students just this week alone, and you will never feel alone, because of large number of other Iranians keeping you company, as if you never left home. I have been there personally, and it is breathtakingly beautiful. So what do you think? My mom and I glanced at each other with approval and excitement in our eyes, and my mom said, Lets sign her up for this school. He helped us to complete the paperwork and told us the only other thing left is to get my visa thru the
Spared British embassy and to get my passport. So if all goes well I was to leave Iran in less than a month. After the arrangements were done, we left the agency with huge smiles. My imagination was taking me away to far, far places, as I was so excited about this new life that will unfold before me in less than a month. My mom on the other hand was a lot more practical, and we went straight to the passport agency to get my passport. We also went to the British embassy and applied for a student visa, and that was a lot easier than I had imagined. It seemed like everything was falling into place as planned and my days in Iran were numbered. We decided, that I was going to shop for clothes
Spared once I arrived in London, as I was sure they had a lot better clothes and fashion than what we had available to us in Iran. I gave the news to all of my friends and was planning on a big party to celebrate my departure. Since my birthday was also around the corner December 5th, my mom decided to have a combined birthday/farewell party couple of days before my departure. Every one of my friends was happy that I get to continue my education outside the country, but it was hard not to see so much envy and grief in them at the same time. My friends indeed would have liked to have the same opportunity to get their education in another country, but for one reason or another, that was never going to be a
Spared possibility for them. Most of them either didnt have the financial means to be supported in another country, or their parents simply did not want to be parted with them. I knew it was a big sacrifice my parents were making, both financially and emotionally, and as years went by I appreciated that more and more. I know Neda did not agree with that belief, and always thought my mom just wanted to get rid of her. At the same time, sending ones kids out of the country for a higher education, gave parents a higher, more prestigious status, and to Neda my mothers motivation was fueled by this fact. I saw things differently, and I felt like my mom was worried about our safety, and also she wanted the
Spared two of us get a good education, so we dont end up like herself needing a man to support us. My mom resented the fact that she didnt have the opportunity to get an education to be able to support herself and her children and always struggled to make sure we will never have to be in her shoes. She had seen her mother, Shahrbanoo, and herself go thru many years of abuse from men they had to live with, out of desperation, for the sole purpose of financial support. To my mom, getting a higher education meant never having to live with abuse. She may have enjoyed the kind of status it gave her, but I didnt believe for a second that it was the primary motivator.
Spared My good bye party was a few days before I left Iran. I invited family, and friends. My friends were so happy for me and sorry that I am leaving at the same time. My mom worked hard to throw this party and cooked enough food to feed the entire neighborhood. We danced the night away, ate great food, laughed, cried, and made promises to never lose touch. Among the guest was a family member, Farshid, who was Mr. Dr.s second cousin. He was a very handsome and accomplished man, who finished his education in the United States, but chose to live in Iran with his family. He had a PhD in Electrical Engineering. He worked as a professor at Tehran University, School of Engineering.
Spared When the party was slowing down, we were sitting down, and sipping on hot tea, when he came up to me to wish me luck. He said, So, what do you think you would like to major when you go to college? Nursing of course and that is what I would have wanted to do if I didnt have to leave the country. He started to laugh in a demeaning and sarcastic way. You actually think you are going to get a bachelors degree? That is so funny. You? Keep on dreaming little girl,
Spared Im sorry, but I just dont see that happening. Do you think you can just go to another country and learn the language, and get a degree? You think it is that easy? Maybe Neda would pull that off, but I just dont see you doing that. I was getting very annoyed, humiliated, and angry with him talking to me as if I was retarded. I dont think that is very funny to say that to me when I am leaving the country. You are discouraging me. You got your education in America didnt you? Why was it possible for you, and not for me? Well everyone knows I was a straight A student, and a genius to be honest with you, but you? You barely pass a
Spared grade having to go to summer school. Be realistic, tell your mom not to waste her money. Why dont you find yourself a good husband, and get a degree in raising children. Ha ha ha ha I was so angry at him, and couldnt hold my tears back. At the same time he was an older adult, and in Iranian culture you dont talk back to people who are older than you, especially a family member, but I wasnt able to hold back, and I told him, You know what? Just to prove that you are an idiot, I will get 2 degrees instead of one. Just wait and see. How could you say such negative things and kill my enthusiasm, who do you think you are?
Spared My mom was serving cake, and she heard our conversation which had attracted everyones attention, and rushed towards us to diffuse the situation, but by then several of the family members and friends told him off. Mr. Dr. grabbed his arm, and took him out to talk to him in private. Soon after that conversation with Mr. Dr., he excused himself and left quietly. Even though everyone tried to make me feel better by telling me what an idiot he was and I can do anything I set my mind to, I was still very broken spirited. He put a seed of doubt in my heart, and I found myself scared of what the future would hold for me.
Spared Do I really have what it takes to get a degree? In a different language? Did he know something that I didnt? Should I really cancel my plans and stay in Iran? Is it possible that I might fail? He had caused substantial damage to my self confidence, and created self doubt. The next day I couldnt hold back anymore, and asked Mr. Dr. candidly. Do I have what it takes to make it in a different country, and if I can truly become a nurse, or should I cancel my plans to prevent unnecessary expenses?
Spared He told me, I am absolutely certain that you would make an excellent nurse one day, and you possess what it takes to make it anywhere as long as you want it bad enough and stay focused. You have a strong drive, and more important than that, you have compassion. That is the key ingredient in anyone wanting to get in the health care business. Come on now, you know I need a good nurse to work with me, hurry up and graduate, and lets work together, OK? He told me as he wiped the tears off my face. I felt so much better, and kept those words in my head, and remembered them when I had hard times in my college years. I actually did accomplish the bet I had made with Farshid, and went on
Spared and got 2 bachelor degrees in the next decade. I never got to rub it in his face though!
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Spared CHAPTER FOUR Never to return years (Nov 17, 1978)
I have learned silence from the talkative, tolerance from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strangely, I am ungrateful to these teachers Kahlil Gibran quotes
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Good bye Tehran On November 17, 1978 my dad drove my mom and I to the airport very early in the morning. It was a very cold and rainy day, and the sky was a shade of dark grey. The sound of thunder could be heard in the distant, in the outskirts of Damavand Mountain. The rain made me think perhaps the heaven angels were crying in sympathy with me, as if they could feel my pain. I took a deep breath filling my lungs with the crisp morning air, and the scent of rain touching the
Spared earth, before I got in the car. As I blew my breath out, steam came out of my mouth. Tehran was as beautiful and as magical as ever that morning. I wore my long wool coat, with a hat and a scarf around my neck to keep warm. I sat in the back seat of my dads light blue Mercedes car on the freezing cold leather seat. On the way to the airport, I watched the naked trees pass by, getting showered by the rain, the daily hustle and bustle of people, and people running for a dry place to stand while waiting to catch a taxi. Colorful umbrellas filled the sidewalks. A few birds were flying from one tree to another. They were trying to find a dry
Spared place to land, as if they were left behind when the whole flock migrated to the south in search of kinder weather. The Jubes were overfilled with water running south, like a ferocious river adding to the whole drama of that rainy day. Venders were selling their goods as usual, people competing in getting taxis, and pedestrians swarming in between cars, trying to cross the street with no regards to the red light, in attempt to rush to where ever their destination was. Everyone seemed like going on with their usual daily activities. Martial law had been lifted and life seemed to be back to normal.. I tried to intake as much memory as I could, and save it deep in the archives as my last day in
Spared Tehran. It was so painful to leave my parents and my homeland behind. The future was exciting and scary at the same time. I couldnt figure out if I should feel lucky or feel sorry for myself. Going to a country that you have never been to, and dont know anyone there, and have to learn a brand new language, culture and customs, just sounded so tough to do, and I had to do that alone on my own. That day was the beginning of the long journey ahead, and I had to face a lot of unknown, and see where my destiny would lead me. Who do I cling on to?
Spared Who do I go for a hug? Who will give me emotional support? Who do I consult for a decision? What if I really need my mom and become homesick? What if I cant handle it by myself? I thought to myself as my anxiety took me away. A part of me knew that a large part of my life was spent alone, and I had to rely on myself for self soothing and support, so this cannot be that different, right? I repeated
Spared that thought inside my head trying to convince myself that I will be ok. We finally got to the airport which looked to be very busy. My dad carried the 2 pieces of luggage in to the airport terminal, and after being checked in, I found my dad struggling. He looked obviously sad and glad at the same time, and was trying really hard to hold back his tears, but suddenly he lost his battles with his outpouring emotions. His chin was quivering, and he finally busted in to tears, and his fake smile finally vanished from his face. He gave me a big hug, and told me, Now this is where you go and face your future, and your destiny. Remember you are very strong, and will do what it takes to make it as a
Spared nurse or anything else you want in life. I will hold a nursing position open for you until you come back in 4 or 5 years, OK? He gave my mom a quick hug too, and disappeared in to the busy crowd. I didnt know it then, but that was the last time I ever saw my dad. As I boarded the airplane, I looked back at my mothers face and realized how blessed I was to be alive. I was indeed spared and on my way to start what my new life.
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Reference People Dr. Aram Noori Farhad Fawzia Mr. DR. (Nastarans step-father) Nastarans Step uncle. Shah of Irans first wife. She was an Egyptian princess.
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Spared Gita Habibi Hamed Hassan Jahangir Jamshid Javid Akhavan

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Girl with uneven legs Military Officer Travel agent when leaving Iran Military Guard A doctor and a trauma specialist working in Washington Zaris husband, who wanted to help Nastaran on Black Friday Mehris second husband (Nastarans
Spared biological father) Kaveh Keyvan Military Guard Military Guard
Khanoom Hajieh Nastarans paternal grandmother (Javids mother) Leyla Mahnaz Mehri Mr. Dr.
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Nastarans high school friend Nasrins friend and college mate. Nastarans mother Nick name for Dr. Aram Noori
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Military Officer One of Mr. Dr.s brothers. Nastarans sister Officer with the firing squad. Iranian man living in London who gave Nastaran and mom and ride From Airport. Military Officer Mehris sister Sharifeh Housekeepers daughter.
Spared Sharbanoo Sharifeh Sina Taher Zari Mehris mother (Nastarans Grandmother) Housekeeper/Nanny. Sayarehs mom. Leylas boyfriend Mehris brother Older lady afraid to help on Black Friday
Places Abadan
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Is a city in the Khusestan province in

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A city in the MazanJavidn state in Iran. A city in the MazanJavidn state in Iran. A state in the east of Iran A city in Lorestan, Sharifehs place of birth. Holy city for all Muslims located in Saudi Arabia. A holy city located 97 miles south of
Spared Tehran, Sanandaj Capital of Kordestan, in North of Iran, where Mehri & Aram were transferred by Army. Sari is the provincial capital of MazanJavidn with very close proximity to the Caspian Sea. It is very mild in temperature, frequent rains, with tropical climate. A town by the Caspian sea, famous for
Sari
Shahsavar
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Spared growing best citrus fruits. Shohada Square Same as Zhaleh Square Tehran Zhaleh Square Capital of Iran. Location in Tehran where Black Friday massacre took place. Also called Jaleh Square. After Black Friday the name was changed to Square of Martyrs (Shohada Square).
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Farsi Words Chador
A large cloth that covers a woman from head to her toes, according to the Islamic rules. Angel of death, mentioned in Koran. Pilgrimage to go to Mecca , which is the duty of every Muslim to do at least one in a life time. Mandatory Islamic cover up for women to
Gebrail Hajj
Hijab
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A white cloth used to wrap a dead body before burying. Open irrigation drains along the side of the road Nationwide testing for selection of college students. A Persian dynasty who rulled Iran 1779 to 1925. A large apparatus used to brew tea.
Spared Threading A technique using threads to remove unwanted facial or body hair.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT My deepest most sincere thanks must go to my god for allowing me to go thru this experience which has made me who I am today. Thank you for sparing me, guiding me, and comfort me in the worst hours of my life. I would like to shower Mili Naugle MFT with a rain of thanks for being my mentor, my guide, my compass when I needed you the most. You made yourself available to me and bent backwards to accommodate my crazy schedule.
Spared You continued to counsel me when you knew I was unable to pay for your services. You nurtured my wounded soul, and nursed me back to mental health. You are an angel in disguise. With your help I regained all the gruesome but necessary memories I had hidden away for 30 years. Without you I would not be here. Thanks for all your encouragement you gave me which led to writing this book. Thank you for introducing Dr. Wayne Dyer to me. Special thanks to Dr. Wayne Dyer for being my savior. You are my mentor, my guru, my teacher, and a guardian angel sent from god. You rescued me from hopelessness, gave me courage, and opened my eyes to options I never
Spared knew existed. Your Spiritual solutions for every problem CD gave birth to new hope when I thought I had none. In my most desperate hours, you were there to teach me how to get thru it. Thank you my Michael, the love of my life, and my partner thru thick and thin. You gave me your time, your soul, your expertise, and supported me so I can finish this book. You gave me moral, financial, and emotional support to finish this book. You were the fuel to go on even when I didnt think I could. You taught me what unconditional love was all about. You are one of the most spiritual, kind
Spared hearted and humble people I know. Thanks for loving and supporting me. My heart belongs to your forever. Thanks to my little princess Ava for being so patient with me. You so selflessly sacrificed and gave me time to write this book when you needed it yourself. Yet I never heard you complain about it. You have taught me how to be patient. You are the one who reminded me to make sure I meditate before we go to sleep, and reminded me to look at things in a positive way. Your positive energy is so rare and contagious. I am so grateful that god chose me to be your mother. I love you so very much.
Spared Thanks to My step father, Dr. Aram Noori, for enabling me that I can do whatever I set my mind to. Thanks for being the father I didnt have. May you rest in peace. Special thanks to Jim Hopkins my dear friend. It was you who believed in me, and encouraged me to start writing this book. You believed in me even when I didnt. Thanks for endless hours of editing and inspiring words of encouragement. This book wouldnt be possible without your help. Thank you Leyla for being such good friend. Thank you for holding on to me as we faced death. I am so lucky I have
Spared had you close to me holding your arm in the last moments of your life. Although neither one of us would have wanted to be there, but it was so comforting knowing you were right next to me throughout the whole massacre. Thanks for showing me how to have courage. I cherish the memories we shared together, and I will keep your gold cross pendant safe with me always. May you rest in peace.
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EPILOGUE A lot has happened in the next 30 years, and I would like to give you some idea of what happened since 1979. It seems impossible to summarize all the events in a sent ace or two, but I will try. Since then I immigrated to United States, and obtained 2 degrees. First one is in Psychology, and second is in Nursing. I went on to have 3 children. I never returned to Iran to live. Mr. Dr. died of complications of stroke in 1992, and my mother died in 2001. Nasim
Spared eventually left United States and migrated to Germany. Javid died in an accident in 1995. Sayareh remained in Iran and was never married. Sedigheh is still alive, but suffers with Alzheimers disease. I have not been able to find Leylas parents, and hope thru this book I may be able to find them or to find Sina, and give them recollection of Leylas last hours of life. I still have the cross pendant, and would like to give it back to her family. This book is an accumulation of all the memories of Black Friday that I put away in my subconscious for 30 years until I was ready to deal with it. I only remembered a skeleton version of what had actually happened. As curious
Spared as I was to know the whole story, a part of me hesitated, and worried about I might feel after knowing the whole story. As I went thru therapy by Mili Naugle MFT, she reassured me that god does not give you what you cannot handle. She told me to meditate, to reach to god, and if I am truly ready my whole memory came back. Every night I meditated and prayed god to help me regain all my memory, and give me the strength to deal with it. Suddenly my prayers were answered and I got slammed with the bitter and ugly details. Night after night I found myself either running from the soldiers, waking up in middle of the dead bodies, walking in the hallways of the movie theatre, or hearing the countdown
Spared of numbers to my execution. Every night I found myself amerced in sea of memories, as the details of Black Friday came thru my mind in a dream like state. My 10 year old daughter Ava who witnessed it tells me that I would start walking out of bed, then run in terror, fighting imaginary soldiers, screaming and begging for my life. As I ran in the hall ways I run in to walls which surprisingly didnt always wake me up, or I would crawl under the dining table seeking refuge. After a week or two of this I looked as if someone had beaten me, as I was covered by bruises and black eyes. When I wake up I found myself in strange places in my house and in pain. Then the memories came back as flash
Spared backs all throughout the day paralyzing me and stopping me in my track. I remember thinking perhaps I wasnt ready to know all the details, but I was. Mili was absolutely right. God didnt give me the memories if he knew I wasnt able to handle it. After waking up from one of these episodes I would resign to my loyal keyboard and wrote the details page after page. Although I lived thru Black Friday, it is hard to believe that there is still so much more that happened to me, my mother and my grandmother to fill yet another book all together. I remember aching to write a book about our lives, not because I just wanted to write a book, but because I
Spared have never known anyone who lived such unusual lives as our three generations. It seemed like it would be such a waste of human experience. I felt like I owed my mother grandmother, and my children to write a book about all that had taken place in our lives. Nothing so unusual, so fascinating, and interesting should ever be wasted, or untold. While getting together with my friends and coworkers I used to tell those stories of my life, or snap shot of lives of my mother and grandmother, people usually said the same thing. You should write a book or this is better than a novel they would say, as they were in disbelief. It wasnt just me who wanted to write a book and tell our stories. My
Spared mother also had the yearning to write a book as well about her story. Having only 9th grade education, she found herself unqualified to write the book. In 2001 when I went to Iran to see my mom after having a massive heart attack, we had nothing but time on our hands. After bringing her home I was determined to stay with her until she was stable enough before I left back to the states. As a dying wish, she made me promise that one day I would write our stories and make it a book. She had always told me that she would tell me her uncensored story of her life once I was old enough. It was then in her death bed when she opened up to me, and for the next 3 weeks
Spared straight she told my grandmothers and her own untold and intimate heartfelt experiences from abuse, courage, to love as a Persian woman living in Iran. I found myself completely surprised, entertained, angry, resentful, and happy at the same time listening to her reveling to me every detail of their lives. Even though I was a Persian woman myself, I had never even heard of such stories. If it was hard for me to believe their stories, I could not imagine what the rest of the world would feel. I have started writing the other stories of our three generations, and hope to complete it within a year. After all a promise is a promise.
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About the Author Nastaran Akhavan was born in Tehran, Iran, and lived there until November 1978 before leaving the country. She first resided in Watford England and obtained her high school diploma. In 1979 she immigrated to the United States, California, where she has lived ever since then. She attended USIU as well as SDSU, and has 2 bachelor degrees. First degree is in Psychology, and second degree in Nursing. She has been working as an RN till present.
Spared She was forced to retire in 2009 due to disability secondary to Fibromyalgia. She lives in United States with her Husband, Michael, and has 3 children, Steven, Mary, and Ava.
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Spared Irans Map

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Location of Iran on the world Map.

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CHAPTER TWO Calm before storm.

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Iranian Islamic revolution.

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CHAPTER THREE Black Friday (Sep 8, 1978)

Spared given to us to learn from. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross quotes

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Spared CHAPTER FOUR Never to return years (Nov 17, 1978)

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Spared Gita Habibi Hamed Hassan Jahangir Jamshid Javid Akhavan

Spared biological father) Kaveh Keyvan Military Guard Military Guard

Spared Najafi Mansoor Neda Nejat Ramin Salehi Sara Sayareh