I didn’t know where to start. I thought it’s better to begin from childhood, which is the golden era of life. Because the personality of each person is formed in this period and there is no better alternative for that.
Like other children, my childhood was full of sadness and joy. I was born into a large family. We were nine siblings and were born almost one to two years after each other. I was the third child and the eldest son in the family. One year after my birth, my younger brother, Mohammad, was born into our family. Mohammad and my two older sisters, Fatima and Zahra were my playmates. We played together and made mischief, but I was the one often punished by my parents!
My parents were from two completely different worlds in terms of personal characteristics. My father was a tall, handsome man with a thick mustache and shaved beard. He had colored penetrating eyes and with stereotypes of Western movie actors. He had an extroverted and easygoing personality. He always wore marked jeans and sneakers, but never liked to wear an undershirt. My father’s literacy was poor because he had left the school after Grade Six and helped with his family business--cattle breeding--as a teenager. He was interested in hunting. When he was eighteen years old, he left for Tehran to serve in the military. He had purchased a double-rifle shotgun with its accessories after completing the military service and two years later he married my mother. My mother was a simple housewife. In contrast to my father’s looks, she was short and had a round face. She was a modest and traditional religious woman and always wore a scarf even at home. She had an introverted and thoughtful personality, and always a sadness rippling in her eyes. She was a patient wife and was in charge of all the housework. Unfortunately, though, my mother was illiterate and never went to school. Because of the prevalence of patriarchal culture in traditional families at the time, many families did not see the school environment as suitable for girls and would ban girls from going to school.
My parents didn’t have a romantic relationship. In their life together, they never expressed their love for each other in public. I never saw my parents hold each other’s hands and kiss or hug each other. At that time, masculinity was more prevalent in social life and there were few people who expressed their feelings in public. For years, I have always wondered how my parents got married with these obvious differences. I later found out that they were married in order to strengthen the connection between the two tribes. My parents were both born and raised in traditional religious families in Kelardasht. Kelardasht is a mountainous region surrounded by highland covered with forest and pine trees in the north of Iran. My mother belongs to the Gilak tribe, the main tribe of the northern part of Iran but my father belonged to a native Iranian Kurdish tribe known as Khajeh-Vand, which has a tendency to Yarsan or Ahl al-Haqq.
Followers of Yarsan believe in the principles of purity, honesty, humility and chivalry. Having a mustache is important for men who follow the Yarsan religion and it is tied to their beliefs. Their religious ceremonies are accompanied by playing the tambourine. There is no such thing as death in the Yarsan religion, as adherents believe in the reincarnation of the soul. My paternal ancestors were originally from the western part of Iran. During the wars of history, many Kurdish tribes from western Iran were gradually moved to the borders and northern areas of the country to protect the area and to prevent local uprisings, and the Khajeh-Vand tribe was settled in Kelardasht. The men of our tribe were tall and stocky. They often had guns and were fond of hunting and horse riding. People of our tribe were engaged in agriculture and animal husbandry and had a nomadic life. Due to geographical and climatic requirements, they rode horses and mules and moved through foothills among the Forest Mountains from Kelardasht to the plain areas for grazing livestock and agriculture.
According to my parents, marriage between the Khajeh-Vand and Gilak tribes in Kelardasht was taboo for many years after the Khajeh-Vand tribe moved to Kelardasht. Later, the families of two tribes intermarried in order to make ties between two tribes firm and lasting. My parents’ wedding took place in a very traditional way. Shortly after my father married my mother, my uncle (my mother’s brother) married my aunt (my father’s sister) in order to make their lives stable and permanent!
Unfortunately, though, my father was addicted to heroin and sometimes abused alcohol. As a result, he didn’t pay much attention to us. It was as if we were from another family and not sired by my father. I don’t remember my father caressing me. Sometimes I wondered if my father knew I was his child! He gave very little money to my mother. However, my mother was satisfied and pleased with whatever she received. With this little amount of money, she turned the wheel of the house, as the saying goes. All my father’s love could be summed up in smoking, hunting and his Honda 750CC motorcycle. My father bought the motorcycle and a liquor shop in the city from the sale of the lands that he had inherited from my grandfather. The shop was located in the main square of the city and he had obtained a license to sell beverages. It was the only liquor store in the town. At that time, the motorcycle was a precious commodity. My father liked to say that when he bought his motorcycle, it was more expensive than the Iran national car, Paykan, which had just entered the market.
My grandfather was a tall man with a small beard and a thick mustache. He was the steward of the Khalatbari family in the district. The Khalatbari family was the feudal lords of Tonekabon district in the northern province of Iran. By order of Mohammad Reza Shah, the Land Reform Law was approved by the parliament in 1960. According to this law, agricultural lands were liberated from feudal lords and large landowners and divided among farmers. My grandfather, as one of the official farmers in the district, obtained the ownership documents for his occupied lands. My grandfather was a tidy man. He wore a long coat and a velvet hat. He had poor eyesight and wore glasses. He was born and married to my grandmother in Kelardasht. My grandparents had seven children and worked all their livelihood to prosperity of their life and upbringing of their children. I never saw my grandmother because she had died before I was born. My father used to say that she was a woman of sacrifice and was opposed to the sale of land by grandfather. One day when she found out that grandfather had sold a part of the land to a local businessman, she was angry and left for her father’s house in Kelardasht until my grandfather was forced to reclaim the land, and then my grandmother came back home. Grandfather was a kind and
disciplined man. He loved me more than his other grandchildren and took me with him everywhere. He always would say, “Get up early in the morning so that the world becomes yours!” My grandfather was one of the prominent people in the city and was respected by the townspeople. He was a traditional religious man and adhered to his beliefs. If anyone had a vow, he would come to my grandfather and he would pray. He used to advise me to become a “mullah” when I grew up! But I did not want to be a mullah. In my opinion, mullahs1 were obese and ugly!
I remember when I was little, my grandfather took all of us on a trip to Mashhad, the only long trip I took during my childhood. It was a pilgrimage to visit the shrine of Imam Reza. At that time, because vehicles were not so available, people traveled less and their travels were limited to pilgrimages, even for honeymoon! I, my mother, siblings, and some relatives traveled to Mashhad in a minibus rented by my grandfather. When I traveled with my grandfather, he always chose the front seat next to the driver and hugged me until the destination. It is about a thousand kilometers to Mashhad, a trip of about a day and a night. My grandfather rented a house near to the shrine. Next day, early in the morning, he took me to the pilgrimage. There was a large crowd of pilgrims around the shrine, who stretched out their hands and tried to touch and kiss it. Grandfather first approached the shrine himself and then held me high, guiding me above the heads of pilgrims to the shrine. In those years, I learned the concept of life amongst our relatives primarily through my grandfather’s behavior and personality. Although he was in his eighties, he continued working and paid close attention to his family. There is only one old photo of my grandparents which had been taken during a pilgrimage trip to the holy city of Mashhad. In the photos, my grandparents are seen with two of their grandchildren, and behind them is a view of the shrine of Imam Reza, the eighth Imam of the Shiites.
In the northern part of Iran, the sense of life and the aroma of living is tied to the green color of paddy and the golden clusters of rice. Men and women work side by side in farms. The people of northern Iran are known to have strong, hardworking personalities and to be invincible in wrestling. My parents named me Seyed Mehdi. Seyed, or lord in English, is an Arabic title of respect used for the descendants of Fatima, daughter of the prophet Mohammad, and Mehdi is a name derived from the last Shiite Imam. Calling children by the name of Seyed Mehdi is a religious fashion in Iran.2
At the time of my birth, Motel Qu was a modern and newly established city. It was established by Jamshid Javanshir, a young capitalist in love with the sea and forest. Jamshid and his wife, Parimarz Firouzgar, who were from families affiliated with the king’s court, established the city. My father used to say that before the establishment of Motel Qu, there were only a few far-flung rural houses in the district. At that time only our tribe and a few other families lived in the area. During the daytime, only one or two trucks were driven through the old dust road near the beach which was the only way between Tonekabon and Chalus cities.
According to my father, Jamshid, simple and unadulterated and with bare feet, walked on the beaches and ruined forests full of alder and maple, and thorny trees of locust and pomegranates. The thorns of the Caspian locust reach 12 centimeters. My father used to say that one day a locust’s thorn hurt Jamshid’s leg, and he came to my grandfather and said, “What trees are these in your region?!”
For the first few years, Motel Qu was known as Saghi Kelayeh, which derived from the name of Jamshid’s daughter, but later was changed to Motel Qu because of the family’s love of the swan. Jamshid’s wife was also the first female mayor in the country. At the time of my birth in 1974, Motel Qu was a modern city with large buildings, beautiful commercial and recreational complexes, and broad streets with clean alleyways. Everywhere you could see villas with extensive cars. There was a large parking lot with the symbol of Persepolis, as well as a cinema, amusement park, seaside beach, traditional wrestling square, sports club, telephone and post office. Many army members and high-ranking people in the imperial system had flourishing gardens and prosperous villas in the area. Many travelers and tourists, financiers and investors came to this city, and very soon Motel Qu became distinguished from the other nearby cities. The charm of this small town was such that many people referred to it as the bride of the northern cities!
I do not remember much from that time, but my parents used to say that people had an easy life. The city was full of joy and vitality. People could freely drink alcohol in public and women went to the beach in bikinis and swimsuits. Almost all artists and singers came to the Motel on weekends to perform concerts and TV shows. My father said, “When Fereydoun Farrokhzad, an Iranian singer and TV showman, came to Motel Qu, I would ride him on my motorcycle and take him to other cities to perform his programs. Sometimes we came to KhanMorad’s house to get opium!”
KhanMorad, a longtime employee of my grandfather’s, had received an acre of my grandfather’s land in appreciation of his efforts. This period of happiness did not last long, however. I was about five years old when the 1979 revolution happened in Iran. The main slogan of the revolution was “Independence, Freedom and the Islamic Republic”. The people made revolution with the aim of freeing political prisoners, and obtaining freedom of expression, justice and the elimination of discrimination. In a referendum held that year, more than 98 percent of the people voted in favor of establishing the government of the Islamic Republic.
Ayatollah Khomeini, the Supreme leader of the revolution, was a mullah. Almost all members of our family loved him and spoke of him with a certain enthusiasm. I still remember that at the beginning of the revolution, people quoted the Ayatollah’s promises to each other from his first speech in Iran after the Islamic Revolution, from material prosperity to the attainment of an exalted humanity. People were looking at the moon, seeing the Ayatollah in it and showing the photo to each other. I was upset that I couldn’t see his image on the moon! After the revolution, everything suddenly changed and gradually things happened that today almost everyone regrets. After the revolution and during the period of the interim government, Iran faced a series of rampages at the hand of extremist revolutionaries. During these nationwide rampages, any construction depicting or citing the name of the deposed Shah and his family was destroyed. At the time, our town underwent many changes. Perhaps no city in Iran was as devastated as the Motel Qu. The Cinema was completely destroyed and unusable; the entrance to the Motel Qu was removed and the parking lot in the form of Persepolis was demolished; the Neptune Hotel, along with its pier, casinos, and clubs was completely destroyed; the property of public centers and military camps was looted. They didn’t even spare the amusement park! And the extremists destroyed it with everything in it. Finally, the city was renamed from Motel Qu to SalmanShahr! Interestingly no news of these events was published anywhere.
At the time, Jamshid was summoned to the revolutionary court and all his properties were confiscated by the government and eventually he immigrated to America. Like many born in the 1970s, my life was bound by many restrictions and prohibitions. Keeping pets was banned. Happiness and even listening to happy music were forbidden. Drinking wine and alcoholic beverages were banned. Ladies and gentlemen were not allowed to swim in the sea together. Women were not allowed to enter the stadiums. The veil and Hijab were made mandatory for women. Women without Islamic dress were barred from entering government offices and many other things besides. Even my father’s liquor shop didn’t escape the flames of the revolution. My father had to change his business to a café-restaurant. At the beginning of the revolution, a revolutionary committee was established which had branches in all cities. The purpose of establishing this committee was to spy and arrest the counter-revolutionary people and those who were committing illegal acts against Islamic law. Anyone who did something contrary to Islamic norms was executed or flogged in public.
One day as I was walking down the main road, I saw people gathered around the town square. I went forward and saw a person lying on a bench and whipped. I looked a little closer and saw that he is one of the youths in our city. I knew him pretty well. He was one of the nice young men who lived in our neighborhood. He had been arrested for having a romantic relationship with a girl. I was very upset to see him. His back was bruised and injured. After the Islamic Revolution, religious minorities also watched the process of changes with concern. With the establishment of the Islamic government, pressure on religious minorities became apparent. The followers of the religions of Yarsan were also concerned about the changes. From the early days after the Islamic Revolution, there were rumors that the government was going to launch attacks on the followers of Yarsan. In the constitution of the Islamic Republic of Iran, the Yarsan are not recognized as a religious minority. It was said from the start that the new government would not allow them to perform religious ceremonies and shave their mustaches. One day, prison officials shaved the mustache of a Yarsan prisoner to humiliate him. It was easier to do these things in the 1980s when the Internet and information systems were not available. Several people set themselves on fire in protest of the insulting acts. Even nowadays, revealing ideas to Yarsan followers will cause problems. They have to keep their religion and beliefs hidden even in employment forms and university entrance exams. As a result, thousands of Yarsan followers have emigrated from Iran and are left to hope that one day they will be able to return and live freely in Iran. I have only a black and white photo of my childhood which shows me sitting in a wooden highchair. In this photo I am one year old and I look at the camera with an angry state.
With this first discussion about my thoughts on this book, I decided I'd include more of the front of the book and how this author began. I was pleased when I kept coming up with parallels between Seyed's family, environment and the role of those mentioned in the book. First just a little tidbit that I've never mentioned... I love swans as well. In fact I have many pictures which are placed in my home, as well as other items... I also have a small collection of females from various countries in the far east--China, India... I had seen performances while I was working at WVU, and was fascinated with the retention of the cultural backgrounds that are continued by many... The difference in music styles from around the world has also always been captivating for multiple reasons, which I won't go into at this time.
In other words, I found I was reading this book of a man who was actually living in my lifetime AND who was now involved in his way regarding the war with our country... And what I was reading was important to supporting my present thoughts of what is happening.
I found I could not, or, rather, that I did not want to ignore discussion of today's war as part of my interaction with Seyed.
Although the level of education was totally different for what Seyed was moving toward, there was little difference in what he was facing with administrators, as I did prior to going into Job Burnout. As part of the changes introduced in 1979, and in relation to those who had financial support versus those who did not, was another similarity I found which was intriguing... Could it be that all over the world rich people were purposely working to undermine those without funds, in order to give preference to those who actually could pay? One of the most horrendous changes was that everything was so tightly centralized and controlled by the leaders that each attempt by Seyed and other students had become a monumental hurtle that tool time and money to resolve, if it ever did get resolved, that is. Again, I could not help but see that, the Iranians had already achieved a strong control of the powerful while our president was just attempting to move in that direction--as if on a movie set! The difference was not only quite recognizable and, thus, more sobering to consider in relation to today's war...
Please reread what happened when Ayatollah Khomeini first was appointed. There was a time period when people felt there would be good changes, hope restored...and more...
Mullah(s) had been involved in their work for hundreds of years, and were fully prepared to take control at the time it did initiate the upheaval for the Iranian government and people.
But that wasn't the first time, this type of takeover had been attempted, earlier, for the riches of oil...
Let's just say that, Iran had already faced many attempts to use corrupt bribes, violence and more, to maintain their own sovereignty.
Just how many times must people within a country with rich resources on their lands, become "reasons" for somebody else begin to figure out how to manipulate to gain control?
So, today, we now have in the United State, merely another set of characters, but with exactly the same plot. Some minority wants to gain somebody else's richness...just...because...they...want power, no matter what damage...
While, it has become abundantly clear that this president did not have the experience nor knowledge to actually implement what he, and others, wanted to do... To obtain power over all things possible... that means that for Iranian citizens, just one more attempt was being made by the use of violence, first...
Perhaps one of these days, people will begin to talk to each other again and communication and possible cooperation between countries will be viewed as necessary for the ongoing improvement of the planet on which we have lived for thousands of years...
Is there a reason to hope?
For Seyed Nourashrafeddin, he determined that his country had become an enemy to his personal and professional freedom...
He started looking outside of Iran to proceed working to achieve his goals...
Will Seyed continue to face dealing with extremists who place power over the needs of those who are citizens but now without freedom?
If the author's time permits, I hope to explore specific issues from his book in discussion format... Please feel free to leave any comments as to whether you'd like to learn more about those who live in countries who has been targeted by others, purely for financial gain...
Just like we all are watching the devastation in our own land...
Is this last video fiction, hypothesis, or a potential of a continued method by which we evade working toward a time when we work together? Some in the world do share knowledge rather than choosing hatred or power and, often, violence. In making decisions for ourselves can we ever learn to include planning for all of humanity...???
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