His Elbow Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

His elbow

Finally I ended in school in Tehran
Right away I jumped to grade five
Unaware of the days ahead us, in front.

I observed what went on and later got involved.

Unlike me many kids did not care for school
Their joy was enjoying, playing, bullying
Some shameless; dirtiest was the best.

Physically I was raised strong
My punch could drop them to ground
That was why soon became body guard
For the weak; and in times got rewards.

Our place, area was a part of Tehran
That people followed an unseen line,
The Eastern and Western; cultural.

Those who were successful
Would depart and soon moved
They joined the Modern Dudes.

I believe right is the proverb:
"Old is gold, valuable"
The dean and his crew
Elders in neighbourhood
Cared for us, as parents
Came to help in own ways.

Provost was too tough
At the door he checked us
For timing and being prepared
Kashani, the one with carelessness
Fell victim was punishment with ruler,
He pulled hand to escape the sharp pain,
So ruler landed on the elbow cut the nerve.
Kashani left school and never did return
And his hand remained in childish age
He became a part of area, landscape…
With that hand he could not prosper…