D R A F T  - TO BE COMPLETED LATER……

(a sample of her handwriting)

some poems in her own handwriting
 
 

This morning listening to Santana’s new album, having breakfast, remembered my cousin Hamid, who loved Santana and together we went to his concert in Santa Barbara in my very early days in California (1980). The remembered Manna, my father’s mother, and how she loved Hamid. One thing led to another and her presence was strong – recalled her last years:

She loved. At age 96 she was very fragile. She spent her has years mostly resting. She lived on the 3rd floor of our house – a 3 bedroom flat plus a hall and 3 large living rooms, kitchen and 2 bathrooms. The whole flat was “hers” though she only used her bedroom. Up to a few years before, she would cook her own meal, and up to the very last day, she’d make her own breakfast which consisted of Lavash bread, Feta cheese, and tea. Her lunch would come from downstairs. My mother who’s cooked for my father almost every single day of their 37 year marriage (except on holidays, etc.) would bring/send up a tray for her. After lunch she’d normally nap and afterwards my father, after waking from his afternoon nap which he does not miss at any cost, would bring her 2 large cups of tea. It is customary that the morning tea is drunk sweet – sugar is dissolved in it – from then on tea is taken with small sugar-cubes. In the old days (days of my youth) cube sugar was made by hand.

(one of the chores that usually my mother’s mom would perform: breaking a “cube-sugar head” – a large solid dome-like sugar into smaller pieces using a hammer/ax like devise on the back of a Havang. Havang is a heavy metal pot like gadget which is used for mushing spices and things with a havang-handle……. When turned upside-down it’d provide a solid heavy metal surface for chopping sugar-cube).

Remembering her fragility, her beauty, her goodness, her tenderness, her pliability, her wisdom, her strength, her honesty, the perfume of her being, however fragile, brought stream of tears. Not tears of sadness but tears of intensity. Her being, her situation, her condition, her phenomenon, was so beautiful, so unique, so far from man’s daily occupation and its brutality dryness, and stress, with all its uppers and downers, caffeine, alcohol, nicotine, etc..

Manna delighted in flowers. One of the few tasks she was able to perform towards the end, was to care for flowers – take them to the kitchen, change the water, cut the stem a bit…. She was a very well educated woman – academically and otherwise. My mother used to say, Manna’s words should be written in gold. Still she quotes her immense wise words which perfectly explain and offer insight into situations.

Just noticed today is Valentine’s day. She was my valentine this morning.

mom: she'd say, she'd pray that one would never get stuck: "che-konam nagi"

and "dastet bala nabine" (may your hand not see trouble)

Kalaaghe dom siah - dombeto alam kon
boro Mazandaroon - Yaaramo khabar kon
Begoo ey bi-vafa ey bi-sefat tarke safar kon
==============

Sad kharbozeh chidim yekish shirin shod
Amaa che-konam hey ke ghesmat in shod

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Sorkh-aab sefid-aab mano raana kardeh
Yekshab nakonam - mano rosvaa kardeh
=================

Abroot kamoon bood - keshidim - o - gozasht
nerkhe-to geroon bood - kharidim-o-gozasht
khahi be yeki neshin - khahi be hezar
maghsood namak bood - cheshideem - o - gozasht

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Abr aamad - o - baad bar sare sabzeh gerist
bi baadeye arghavan dami baayad zist

Emrooz ke in sabzeh tamash ghehe maast
pas sabzeye khake maa - tamaashaa gare kiist?

============================
 

Viraan shodane takhte soleyman az zan
Yoosef be balaye chaahe zendan az zan
sad khaane kharaab viraan az zan
har ghese hezar khane viraan az zan
zaan balaa baashad be har kaashane-ii
Bi- bala hargez namaanad khaaneii

===========================

Tamame hariifa farib daadehaye zan bood. yek doone mard toosh nabood. zan farib midad.
==============================
mehraboon
emrooz naale mikoneh
har dafee bidar shodeh
savad cheghadr khoobeh
[this could have been story about someone...]
===============================

Dr. M said: Grandma said a story: a man was dying – he told his son, if you want to remodel your house, change the door, if you want to gamble, go to Hallaj (best gambler), if you want to have a prostitute, go early in the morning. Later he dies and the son started remodeling and realized it was a real pain, and stopped – then he went and found Hallaj – it was in a very very bad part of town and he was miserable – he asked him, you’re the best gambler, why are you so miserable… he: this is what gambling does to you… then he went to a hoer-house early in the morning and saw all the prostitutes had their make-ups running and looked horrible…”…

Lesson: remodeling is a pain, gambeling=losing, forget about paying for sex!

BTW, regarding gambeling, she'd say, in persian it's Ghomar-baaz - she'd say:

1) Baz - means lose
2) Ghomar = gham-aar = brings sorrow!

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Mana: Ba khoda bash paadeshahi kon  -- bi khoda bash har aanche khahi kon. (be with god – run a kingdom – be without god – do what you want).

Dey ke cho bogzasht - be saat eshghe bahar daarad (once Dey(january/february) passes, in mind has the love of bahar(spring))

“jahanna be in daghee-ha- ham nist” hell is not all that hot.

bache dary = be – dary