Hope Fulfilled
You turn back your head. Your mother goes out of the room carrying a basket full of apples. You hear the sounds of her steps against the stone-covered yard and the sound of the falling down of apples into the pond. You hear the sound of the wooden door knocker and your mother's steps walking away and the noise of the creaky door and the familiar call of "Ya Allah!" of your uncle.
Your heart trembles. Your breaths get faster. You don't want anyone to see your paralyzed arms and legs. You like to get up and welcome your future father-in-law! You hear the sound of your uncle's heavy steps, which is approaching nearer and nearer to the room.
The door opens and a narrow ray of light runs into the room and the shadow of your uncle rise up and up. He sits beside you but you don't want to see his sympathetic look... Turning back your look, you say. "Hello Uncle."
You stick your eyes on his hands, looking at his fingers turning the big wooden rosary beads.
You understand whenever he wants to say something; he turns the beads faster and faster. You remember one year before you went to visit Rana to be your wife, your uncle had stuck his eyes onto the carpet while turning the beads among his fingers. That day you promised to build a chamber and the next year you would take Rana to your own house.
Your mother enters the room and places a basket full of red apples on the carpet before you and leaves the room.
You steal your look from the rosary beads and look on the red apples. You remember those days when your uncle, your uncle's wife, and Rana were on the other side of the tree yard and your parents and you were living on this side. You were delivering the bowls of soup to the rooms on the other side. Your uncle's wife came and took the ceramic bowl of soup and disappeared through the door frame.
You were sticking your eyes on the door. Rana handed the bowl full of the red apples to you. You looked hard at her while her cheeks had blushed like the color of red apples.
Your uncle coughs louder... and your heart trembles. You look back sticking your eyes on the skies through the window. His voice vibrates into your ears saying: "... How should I say? Uncle... You are like my son. I don't like to see your pain and sufferings. Now that your disease is incurable, for it has haunted your whole substance and you have been paralyzed for six months, and your body has dried, and you are not better by taking these medicines... what should I say? It is not my idea; don't get angry with me... My wife is against this marriage! She says that she won't give her daughter to a handicapped young man."
Your heart drops down. You look down at his hands while taking the rosary beads from one hand to other hand and turning them faster and faster.
You are panting while looking at the wooden rosary beads dim and wet from behind the film of tears. Your cheeks get wet. Your voice trembles saying "...Uncle! Why do you behave me so? What should I say to my parents? Didn't you say? Didn't your wife say that our marriage tie had been knotted in the skies? Didn't she say that the heavenly marriage tie should not be broken?"
You stick your eyes on his eyes and say "Uncle! Look at me! My body has become dry... It is a dried desert. It requires irrigation. It needs the rain of Hope... Don't cause my hope to turn into despair."
Stealing his look from you, he looks hard at the carpet's flowers. He presses the beads in his clenched fist and shakes his head while saying. "I've never rejected her sayings! She's against this marriage! Don't get angry with me!"
You lift your head up while saying. "Rana what did she say?"
Your uncle, putting his hands onto his knees gets up saying, "My wife has said if she disobeys her, her milk be forbidden to her. "Then he expresses." The poor girl is on the edge of two diverged roads!"
Your heart hurts and breaks down! A pigeon through the window frame disappears into the sky. The sound of the fluttering of its wings spreads throughout your existence. You call your mother in. Being terrified she runs into your room. You shake your head shouting, "Call a carriage for me! I want to go! I want to take a wish!"
You hear the sound of the carriage wheels against the stone-paved street. A few men come to help you get into the coach. Your mother comes out. You steal your look from her tearful eyes. You like to be alone. Without her help, you want to irrigate your dried body with the purity of Hope. Your mother comes forward while bringing the Holy Qur'an nearer to your face and your lips.
Kissing the Holy Qur'an, you place your forehead on it. The carriage sets off and in the bend of the lane; it disappears out of the frame of the worried look of your mother. The wind blows against your face. You remember the months when you were lying in bed in the corner of your attic room. Hearing the noises of the children playing outside in the alley. You remember the memory of running under the tree branches in the yard full of trees. You remember catching the fishes in the stony pool and doing so repeatedly and now after many years, you go towards him by yourself!...
The carriage passes through the lanes and by -lanes of the city. The noises of people and the noise of the hoofs of horses mix together.
You want to get down of the carriage at the gates of holy shrine of Imam Reza (A.S.). The coachman and a few men help you get down and the place you on the ground. You don't hear any voice. The carriage goes away from you farther and farther. You even don't hear the noises of the hoofs of horses.
Your heart trembles, and you don't feel any thing any longer... Everywhere is light. You find yourself in the precinct standing behind the drinking water reservoir with golden dome (Saqqah Khaneh) in the holy shrine. You smell the perfume of roses! Your body has taken life, power, and spirit. You look down upon the legs on which you are standing firmly and strongly. You also look up on the hands that have been raised up into the sky gently. Your eyes is full of tears. You wonder how you have entered the precinct and how you have been standing on your own feet!
Kneeling down, you kiss down the stone-covered precinct. The sound of the pigeon's fluttering their wings vibrates into your ears. A hand touches your shoulder! Looking back, you see your uncle smiling. Then he embraces you into his warm arms.
End item/ 129