faramarz soleimani,sari,roshdieh kindergarten,circa fall 1323/1944
image by moj,a reproduction
I was born right before World War II,at the hand reach of Hitler,a stone throw away from Stalin,and a speedd boat farther from Rosewelt.The place I was born,with my other four brothers was a gorgeous garden ,a big fruit orchard,with apples,plums,cherries mullberries and of course,oranges,like a national flag for Sari and the whole Mazandaran.In fact my mom and dad's hometown,Shahsavar,Tonkabon,is considered the capital of oranges in Iran.Actually wherever you go in Shomal,northern strip land of Iran,by Caspian Sea ,is the capital of oranges.We call oranges as POTEGHAL,because during Shah Abbas Safavi Rule,Portughese,and most probably Sherly Brothers of England brought her seeds(OVUM,if you may) from Portugal and we honor them to namesake them with their own country.
When I was born in 3 Aban 1319 within 48 hours from Shahnaz Pahlavi,and in neighborhood of Shah,Ashraf,Shams and others,My brothers were poisoned with Quinine, a drug of choice for treating Malaria,known as a big killer in Mazandaran,as well as prevention for that disease.Although two of my uncles were practicing medicine in the area,my brothers took adult doses of quinine for prevention,poisoned and overdosed,transferred to nearby facilities of Babol and Died.Whoever who missed all these is not forgiven in our family,especially by my mother,who never forgot this ,and never let us forget it,in her eternal mournings.
It happened when I was within 11 month old,Mom and dad took Parviz 12,and Manuchehr 7, away for treatment.My nanny,Khdijeh Golchehreh,my good mom the 2nd ,and my good friend who always was and is my love,fell asleep that day,when the tsunami,or Katherina or whatever happened.I tell you I was born in river and the sea,so I couldn't stay away from water,and crawled to the little pond in front court.Somehow the Lady in lower facilities of this big garden ,who rented the building from us ,got concerned and came up to visit.She found Khadijeh sound asleep,and me, practicing a lesson of life saving ,swimming in the middle of the pond.
She kicked Khadijeh to wake her up and pulled me out of that delicious struggle(or vice versa):
-Shame on you,they are loosing their two sons and you are sacrificig the third one with your leisurely nap ?
And this was the story ,khadijeh never came up short to narrate it for me,while savoring it with FARA JAN!FARA JAN!
Not only we lost Parviz and Manuchehr that day ,but also khosro,who was succumbed to Newborn Tetanus,due to unsterilized obstetric instruments of Sedigheh Khanum,my mom's namesake and neighbor and friend,who delivered all of us at home obstetrics facility,and also Morteza,her own child,and a friend of later years.
Dad built a house-like building in a corner of the garden(BAGH) and Jamileh Roshdieh,daughter of Mirza Hassan Khan Roshdieh,the pioneer of schools in Iran,rented it for a kindergarten ,with her familly name.
In fall of 1321/1942 when I stepped in Roshdieh Kindergarten,I wasn't even 2 years old,but somehow became KHANUM ROSHDIEH's favorite student.In all pix of those years ,I am standing or sitting next to KHANUM ROSHDIEH.And even years later when the late Mohamad Assemi,the poet and journalist,took me to Tehran Roshdieh School for a reunion with KHANUM ROSHDIEH,still I am standing next to my beloved first teacher(MOALLEM E AVVAL) in all pictures.
PARVIZ,the 2nd was born in 1323/1944,but due to mom's stress and lack of higiene,he was in poor health During his childhood period,.I happened to grow up with my German Sheppard dog,KARAN(can't you tell?!)
He was th best friend of mine. We played and fought,like all good friends,and most of lovers.He was very athletic and I loved to race with him.Each time in front of our building(EMARAT E MAHKAMEH,named after my uncle's medical office)I'd say 1,2,3,for : ready,get set,go!and we both ran.There was a short brick wall between the garden,were our gardener,Aligeda,used to live with his family,and the rental house,with a small univalve wooden door,always in green,and I tried to open the door and get in the court, at the end of racing distance,but Daredevil Karan would roar and high jump over the wall ,and reach the court ,facing me while saying...HA..HA...HA..
with his mouth open and his tongue sticking out,might be meaning:
I BEAT YOU MAN!
This happened times and again,until we moved to another house in EMAMZADEH YAHYA,SARI,when I was 5 and a half,getting ready to go to Hedayat Elamentary School,and a new life.But still I don't forget the black and chocolate color of Karan,who acquired his name from the first tribe living on the shore of our beloved big lake,later on seded to Caspian tribe/Khazarha ,who gave their name to the sea of Mazandaran forever.