Wondering in the night
What were the chances
Our courtship: October 26, 1970 was a national holiday in Iran it was the birthday of the Shah. On that day my friend Zizik had thrown a casual gathering at her family’s summer home, twenty-five miles outside of Tehran, in Karadj – a rural retreat then and a thriving city today. Zizik, my best friend up to sixth grade, was the skinniest girl at a time when all were skinny. She and I were inseparable. We sat next to each other in class, we kept each other company at recess and when having lunch over long tables set in a dingy corridor at the rectory side of the school. We nibbled on our food and talked about which kinds of food we liked or didn’t and how food was prepared in our household and who packed our lunch-boxes that were a stack of three pots, secured by metal hooks from two sides. Mine was made of yellowish enamel with green borders. The best treat was to find a banana in the stack. Back then, bananas were very special and when we were given one we tried to eat it
s-l-o-w-l-y, so the taste would last and last.
My ties with Zizik go back earlier than elementary school. My mother had grown up with her parents in Tabriz, a northern city in Iran. Her father represented all foreign magazines in Iran. It was of course fun to have Zizik as a best friend because through her I could get many foreign books, magazines and comics.
Lovers at first sight, in love forever.
It turned out so right,
For strangers in the night.
The bloom of our romance faded and the intensity of the initial thrill settled down when real life challenges surfaced. As we had promised at our wedding ceremony, we stayed together through thick and thin; and even though, today, we live in separate homes, as strangers would, we still date and take trips together to explore new horizons and possibly come to a maturity that I thought my parents were missing. Yes, unfortunately our union “…didn’t turn out so right,” because, like most marriages, we buried emotions and lost intimacy. Although there are times that I feel we're still strangers, trying to get to know each other, but during that drive from Karadj to Tehran there was enough “dopamine” produced to create a desire to get married within fifteen months. I was 23, as was he. I wonder, if I were to taste the life again, even knowing what was to come, would I take the same path and marry him? The answer is: YES!
Doobe-doo-bee-doo da-da-da-da-da strangers in the night
The following pictures are taken in Yerevan on February 7 of this year. Isn't that crazy to get married in the dead of the winter??