The Controversial me!

Every shop we, I mean me and my family proceeded, as soon as the shop keepers see me -a bearded man costumed like what the government employees usually do- they turn off the music that is being played in the store.
Times like that I really feel people in my social group are isolated from the rest of the society. One day we entered a boutique, a heavy music was being played quit loudly. The shop-keeper did not bother to move and turn off the music or at least lower its sound while we were there. We were leaving the store that I found myself murmuring "how rude this lad is!"

Blessed Malfunction

"She can't donate Kidney", my wife shouted. She was just talking with Majid's wife in the phone. I met with Majid in a NGO managing Kidney transplant in Iran; he had donated one of his kidneys just two months ago. He says he did this because he thought he was saving a life. Majid is a skilled construction worker but since last year things got dull and he tried a more encouraging and promising carrier. He decides to open a Kebob eatery. Majid worked hard and passionately but after 9 months he realized that he is in debt for 12 thousands Tuman (Tuman=$0.01). No choice left. There is no one that he can borrow money from and the state supported bank loans do not cover such categories and are a complex and far reaching goals. One needs to process a long bureaucratic labyrinth, which is almost a dead end and a vain attempt if you know no one, in particular; finding two qualified persons who can -and of course want to- guarantee you. He is a man of honor and he most come up with his pledge. He has heard from TV and Radio about a NGO which involves with the kidney stuff and has heard he can donate one of his kidneys, while that will not harm his own health. He even believes that the one kidney left will accordingly be larger in size and more active in function. In return he may gain considerable amount money to pay back his debts. Although, naming this money is a taboo officially, "Selling kidney" idea has found its way to colloquial literature, exemplifying the final choice for the one who needs money and has no alternatives. Two months has passed. Majid is back to his normal life, even though he himself opened his tens of stitches personally, avoiding some more hospital bills. But, generally he has an acceptable condition. He is only advised to avoid cold and heavy lift.
And now, the rest of the story. Why then still he is wandering in the NGO? The so called compensation payment only covered half of his debts, and he still owes a lot to a number of people. So what now? Must another kidney be sold? But he got only one and this time his 23 years old wife must do the job. She does not agree for many reasons obviously, mainly because she was told that she can not bear a child any more. Tough arguments took place and she even received some beats. I visited them with my wife in their little room in North West of Tehran. My wife insisted to help them by selling some of our belongings. But there are 2000 kidney donators each year and most of them do that for money. How can we save all of them? At last Majid's wife has started preliminary tests for transplanting her kidney. No one of the relatives and friend knows and should ever know about this. The process occurs swiftly. Husband and wife planned to reason wife's hospitalization to relatives and friends, an appendicitis case. The next week -if the entire test results positively- she will be operated and….
Wait! The test results were not satisfactory, some parts of her body showed abnormal functioning. So, she was not able to DONATE one of her kidney.

The Lady in Room 1424

Gravestones at Dulab cemetery have many things to say, at least for the lady in room 1424 Enqelab hotel, Tehran.Exactly, 60 years ago a group of 114000 polish people, a combination of military and civilians left Soviets and came down to Iran. Most of them left the country soon after to join the war against allies, some sought refuge in other countries and very few established new families and preferred to stay in the land, which they found it to have plenty of sunshine. But, some 3000 fell victims of ‘‘War’’ as the worse human-made disaster and the most foolish and ignorant decision made by politicians.Among the tragic casualties was the mother of 12-years-old Krystyna whom 60 years later, in a 2 weeks visit stays at the room 1424. Krystyna Sass, a senior lecturer recalls the time when she used to walk the distance between the camp where she lived with her family and the hospital where her mother was confined. ``I never forget the hospitality of the people and their goodness, which helped us to regain our life``, she said. After a 12 days tour in Iranian cities; Anzali, Isfehan, Shiraz, at their good-bye party she told me that people behaved toward them as if they were celebrities and even had asked her autograph. I was there to hand them my two reports published in Iran daily and Iran newspaper (Persian) on this occasion. They were surprised and very happy seeing their photos and interviews on the press.They are gone now to continue their lives, which had a very tough beginning. And what is left is a series of questions that I’ve asked myself several times; do I owe them? What am I striving for? Perhaps, the notion of such destiny for my own 7 and 13 years old children is the very motive of my concern. Or; I as an Iranian whose nation is named axis of evil by U.S. officials, am trying to bring into west’s public opinion that, we are the kind of people whom irrespective of religion, colour or nationality received those needed shelter and escaped inhumane treatment. To remind inexperienced Americans and Britons, how it is to be a subject, what is the feelings of a secondary citizen in a so-called global village. No matter how civilized one may be, every nation or even man has his ups and downs; a period filled with wealth and glory, and inescapably times to be down. Undoubtedly generations to come shall judge us, and surely not for things, which the weak did not do, but of course for the decisions the strong made.