My Mission Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

My mission

Time and shapes of sky
-with, without the cloud
-with the Sun in delight
-with its Moon and stars
-speak share language
-which is same for us all.

I find it rewarding…

In this tongue I am child
-and very, very young
-just little over five.

Rain has washed our village
-floods rushed off mountains
-and forced us to migrate.

The village is framed
-in our lives and brains
-though we have departed.

(In me was and remains
-from birth to my death.)

In hardship, nights and days
-and need for survival
-after loss of savings,
-made Daddy to call me:
- "Be a man and handle…"

He sat and repeated
-what heard my brothers
-who tried but had failed.

"You get on the truck;
-it takes you to our house,
-then meet Hajj-Mustafa;
-ask him to kill our lamb.
-Leave skin for sister
-with the legs and the head;
-and bring all the rest…"

I nodded and obeyed…

The pathway to village
-was dirt and gravel
-there was no vehicle;
-and truck, was too rare.

Dad knew the Chauffeur
-so, I was respected.
-Gave me seat in cabin,
-he drove till we reached.

Obeyed the Dad's demand;
-met Old-Hajj-Mustafa
- (elderly with turban,)
-who came and had a knife.

He laid the lamb on side
-cut the neck and blood
-coloured the wet ground.

Made some hole in skin;
-front leg, where joint is,
-then puffed and blew in.
-When air was squeezed
-kept hitting and pounding.

He made sure that parted
-skin, off fat, flesh.
-Set the knife's sharp blade
-moving down all the way…

Pulled off the skin as a carpet
-on which laid the pieces
-intestine, stomach, heart, liver
-and rest, in sequence;
-everything with bones, ribs….

Though mullah, not butcher
-in this job was expert…

Then time came for sister.

She sat in the kitchen
-from wood made fire
-and gathered pots, plates
-to finish what was said.

Inner fat and the tail
-were put in pot, copper;
-and melted for Gourmet.
-She knew, well, perfect;
-cut pieces, lungs', liver's,
-trachea's and the heart's….

Rain, with us was at war
-and came down non-stop;
-in time less, in drops.

Trees had flourished,
-blossomed, colourful;
-most in white and pinkish.

Appalling was grey evening,
-when too dark, we went in
-with light of kerosene.

Four legged was Korsi
-in corner of two walls
-and quilt on its top,
-a mattress on each side.

Underneath, in centre
-in Manqal, of clay…
-burned fire of charcoal.

(That was the old culture
-to keep warm in winter.)

We had food, then slept
-to me she, was friend
-and mother and sister.
-She told me her secrets.
-She was, is valuable…
-I did and will love her.

I heard her talk with me:
- "It is dream, just dream! "

I woke up, looked around
-was in bed, not outside
-where I ran, shouting loud:
- "Do not go…please stop! "

Had dreamt that truck
-had left me; was on run.

Worried I, was of shame
-when facing my father
-for failing my mission
-as had failed brothers…

Sister sat, comforted
-till was sure, I slept.

Rain was less in morning.

She made me breakfast
-bread was homemade and
-the tea was sweetened;
-served in the Estekan…

Night before and with help
-flour was taken
-to truck and handed
-to chauffeur; dad's friend.

Remaining to carry
-with me, was the packed meet,
-and pair of leather shoes
-and the things sister cooked.

She plucked flowers
-set some on my collar
-saw me go like prince
-or a king departing.
-I got to the truck
-heading for Isfahan.

Whatever road had been
-was all washed; an unseen.
-Driver took his time
-to climb and make rounds.

Was dusk when our winding
-drive on heights and hills
-came to end and finished;
-asphalt was welcoming…

Late at night, the city
-meant the end of trip…

Again, rain started
-very hard and showered.

I, a child, loads, and night
-and no way to make call!
-I carried meat and shoes,
-as well as the Gourmet
-in a jar of clay.

Duties made me man
-and forced to act, react
-on my own; make plans
-of marching toward home.

Hung the shoes around neck
-set the meet on my head,
-hand carried the Gourmet
-in the jar of clay.

On and off saw some men
-gathered round the fire
- (guardians, ancient way.)

Deep inside was afraid…
-of dogs that barked and came
-in a pack, like wild wolves.
-Men became my saviours.

Finally, I reached home
-felt proud, with success.

Dead tired and worn out
-rang the bell for long time
-no answer, no reply…

And it rained as if pipe
-was opened or had cut…

I, alone, small child
-in the midst of the night
-with heavy load of might
-wished to but had no right
-to let go of tears; to cry…

I was man and at war
-with the things all around
-with my load and sky
-with the door and the lock
-with the wild barking dogs…

Suddenly door opened
-the old man, was owner
- (relative, in a way…)

Surprised he looked and
-opened door, gave a hand;
-joyfully called my dad.

Commented in his way
-to let dad and myself
-hear him…clear:
- "Must marry my daughter! "

He seemed to praise me
-like hero, the man who
-took a gun and went to
-shoot looters of harvest.

Man had aimed, shot the pot
-boiling to make their food.
-From hole, poured water.
-Thieves fled forever.