Farzaneh Alidoost – Nightmare of Rain (English)
“Nightmare of Rain”
It’s always the same. Justice has never governed the ages. Humans have wronged each other wherever and whenever they could. Those at the highest rungs of social and political hierarchy have pressured the weak to cement their own positions. Like a seesaw, they watch for a chance to reach the top. Then, they intervene by any means necessary to ensure those below remain stuck in place. The demon of greed has tainted their souls, urging them to harm others’ spirit, life, and property.
A woman had been calling him for three or four days, reminding him that it was her daughter’s birthday weekend. He had to come and help at their house, no excuses. That day, she called twice in the morning to remind him to drop everything and start moving. He hung up the phone. Finally, he moved on from his hesitation. He rolled up his cotton trousers to mid-calf and pulled his thick socks up to his knees. He knew she wouldn’t stop bothering him until he showed up. For her precious daughter’s birthday, she wanted him there just to keep an eye on the workers. He stepped out of the room, looked up to the sky. For two days, the clouds had been tightly embracing each other, whispering their sorrows. He wondered when they would lose patience; some would burst, and their tears would flood his home. A shiver ran through him. He brought the edges of his green jacket together. He took his eyes off the sky and stared at the mark that last year’s flood had painted around the yard wall, a dirty white residue from the water that rose thirty centimeters off the ground. He shook his head, “God, let this year pass without incident.” He sighed, put on his shoes, and headed towards the yard door. Halfway there, he pulled his keychain from his floral fabric bag. He took the cloak off the hook and continued on his way. As he reached the door, he placed both hands on the lock and with two firm shakes, opened it. This was another “kindness” from last year’s rain. The flooded yard had worsened the rotten door, so now every time he wanted to leave or enter the house, he had to wrestle with the door.
The echo of the house door closing resonated down the alley. The good thing about this narrow, sour street was that the residents didn’t care about noise pollution. All day long, the sounds of vendors’ loudspeakers, purified water, and various mobile vendors echoed through the street, so the sound of this rotten door was lost among them. He locked the door. He grabbed the edges of his cloak and headed towards the main street. The stench of sewage made him crinkle his nose. His eyes fell on the sewage ditch across the street, which ran parallel to the sidewalk to the main street. Seeing the scene ahead, he pulled his nose up even more and covered his nose and mouth with his cloak. Near one of the bridges, garbage had clogged up, the black putrid water had pooled behind it and spilled over the edge of the ditch onto the street. A few three-year-old kids played excitedly in the small water-filled potholes, splashing each other with each plop and squealing with delight. He had no patience for arguing with these rascals. They were short but had two meters of tongue. As soon as he told them anything, they would quickly drag their mothers into it, whether it was good or bad, it was none of his business. He muttered to himself and looked away from them.
He slowly made his way to the street. A few steps further, he reached the bus stop and sat on the faded plastic seat. Fortunately, with all the work he was dreading, he didn’t have to wait long for the bus. He boarded and found an empty seat. He was grateful that in the city, the streets and neighborhoods were not too far apart; thus, he reached his destination quickly.
The bus stopped two streets away from his destination. He got off and, while walking, pulled up his cloak. Seeing the condition of the street, he shook his head. This area was supposedly the upper part of the town. A well-to-do area. There was no sign of sewage ditches, but the sewage manholes were always leaking, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. Sometimes, like a pot overflowing on a stove, the water bubbled out and filth spread everywhere. Then the putrid water would flow into the middle of the side streets. Those who could and had strong legs would jump over it; those like him, whose bodies were worn out, had to go mid-way down the side street, then turn back to the main street and continue their way. There was no longer much difference in cleanliness between the upper and lower parts of the town. The only difference was in the buildings, luxury stores, expensive goods,
and of course, the deep pockets of the residents. A city without an owner ends up like this. He remembered, two or three months ago, a few neighbors had petitioned the city council to install sewage lines for their neighborhood. Even he, who couldn’t read, had stamped the petition. After much running around and pleading, all they got were promises. Two neighborhoods down, through nepotism and “I scratch your back, you scratch mine,” they convinced the city council to do the job. The result was that they drilled into the street asphalt. After several days of unbearable noise, the asphalt was dug up and the street was left in God’s hands. A few days ago, after half an hour of rain, the street turned into a mud pit. Cars that had to pass that way had no choice but to brave the mud. Several residents complained that their cars were damaged and had to be sent to the repair shop. God knows how long this situation was supposed to last. Now the locals were left wondering whether to insist on their request or to forgive the sewers for the stench of the ditches.
Finally, he reached the Sunflower building. He rang the second-floor unit four bell. Going up and down the uneven sidewalk was killing him, and his leg was throbbing. Traffic on these sidewalks felt like hiking in the mountains. There was no standard for construction in this city. Everyone set the height of the sidewalk in front of their house to the street level however they wanted. One a half meter, another thirty centimeters, another level with it. To hell with anyone with a foot problem trying to walk on the sidewalk. They prefer to risk the street than rely on the safety of the sidewalk. City beautification is a joke here.
As the door opened, he entered the courtyard and then headed to the parking lot. Every time he used the elevator, he prayed for the person who invented these elevators. When he reached the second floor, he exited the elevator. The unit door was open; hence, he entered without delay and greeted.
The maid, while cleaning the table, replied to his greeting and said, “Come sit down, I’ll pour you some tea to warm up.” “Thanks. Where’s the lady?” “She’ll be here soon. She went to her daughter’s room to get her ready for the hairdresser.” She smirked and shook her head. Hajer, puzzled, said, “Already? It used to be just brides who went to the hairdresser from the morning.” “God rest those days. Oh mother, you’re out of touch.” With that, she threw the rag on the table and went to the kitchen to pour the tea. Hajer stood up to take off her cloak. At that moment, the lady and her daughter came out of the room. “Hello, ma’am, congratulations.” “Oh, hello, when did you arrive? Sit down, I’ll come and tell you what to do.” The daughter excitedly said to Hajer, “Hajer, it’s pouring rain. Remember how you used to sing to me when I was little?” Hajer slapped her cheek and moaned, “God, give me death. I just arrived. It wasn’t raining then.” She quickly went to the window and looked at the street. Moaning, she said, “Oh wretched Hajer.” The lady nonchalantly said, “Oh, come on, Hajer, the weather doesn’t keep a schedule. Just don’t say you want to go because I won’t let you. I’ve got a lot of work piled up.” “Lady, for God’s sake, it’s going to ruin my life right now.” The daughter said, “Whether you go or not, water will enter your house. Whether you’re there or not, it won’t make a difference.” Hajer’s knees gave way, and she sat down on the ground. There was nothing she could do, nor could she argue with the mother and daughter. Reluctantly, she began to realize the dreams the mother and daughter had envisioned for her. Considering her age, the lady did not give her heavy tasks. The old woman looked out the window several times amidst her chores. The rain showed no signs of stopping. Guests arrived. The noise and joy continued until night. Two maids attended to the guests, but in Hajer’s heart, several washerwomen were busy clinging to the doors and walls. Her hands and heart were not in her work. Eventually, the party ended. The man told Hajer to be ready; he would take her home. Hajer, praying, hurriedly put on her cloak and left the unit.
All the way, she pleaded desperately with God. Several times, the man reassured her that there was no need to worry, but the silence of Hajer indicated that these words did not calm the storm in her mind. A few streets away from her house, a full river appeared before their eyes. The man parked the car
before reaching the river, next to the sidewalk. Seeing the scene before them, words died in their mouths. For a few moments, both were stunned by the small waves splashing on the water. Hajer was now sure that the hand that had been clutching her heart since morning was not without reason. She knew what awaited her at home. Finally, she broke the silence: “Thank you, sir. You don’t need to go any further. I’ll get off here. I’ll take it slow the rest of the way. You go on, take care.” “How are you going to walk through this water? It’s not even that far to your house. God bless you. I don’t understand, couldn’t they have informed you not to come? Would their work have been left undone?” “What can I do, sir? I’m afraid it might stall your car. Then who would come to help you in this situation?” “What can I say, okay, there’s no other way. Just be careful not to fall into a hole.” “Yes, sir, thank you. Take care.” She got out of the car and walked along the sidewalk towards her house. The water had risen thirty to forty centimeters from the wall. With every passing car, a wave of water surged, reaching Hajer’s shoes and soaking them. She reached the corner of the street. She had no choice but to cross the street. She stared in dismay at the scene ahead and at the men who had rolled up their trouser legs to their thighs and were walking in the street river. In the darkness of the night, the light from the street lamps and stores was not strong enough to illuminate the street floor. What if she stepped into the street and fell into a water ditch or hole? What if she broke her leg?
“Old lady, do you want to cross the street?” Absentmindedly, she turned towards the voice. A young woman stood next to her, looking at her with a gentle smile. This is the nature of the people of this land. Even in the numbing cold of the worst conditions that befall them, they do not lose the warmth that the sun of Khuzestan has ingrained in the people of that region. Hajer stammered, “Huh? Oh, yes. But with this situation, I don’t know how to go.” “If you don’t mind, I can carry you. You are like my mother.” A crooked smile appeared on her lips: “No, no, may you grow old, my lady. I’ll find a way. My eyes are just a bit dim.” “Then let me go ahead, and you follow me. I’ll accompany you to your house. It’s no big deal. At least hold my hand so you don’t fall.” “But what about you, in this situation, won’t your way be too long?” “No, old lady, don’t worry.” Reluctantly, Hajer agreed. She took the woman’s hand and slowly followed her. The woman was a local. She knew all the streets and alleys there. They crossed two or three streets until they finally reached the old woman’s house. A look of disgust crossed old Hajer’s face. She remembered the image she had seen in the alley that morning. “Oh no! All the rainwater is mixed with the sewage. Ah. My whole body is unclean, what do I do now?” The water level reached forty centimeters. Hajer told the woman, “When you get home, be sure to take a bath. This isn’t just rainwater. It’s mixed with filth and sewage. God knows how many people will get sick later.” “What can be done. Our situation has been like this for years. In recent years, people’s homes and lives have been destroyed by this filth.” Finally, they arrived. The woman helped Hajer across the bridge. As the old woman struggled with the key and lock, she said, “God will not forgive them. If they had turned on these pumps during the rain, we wouldn’t be in such agony, and every rain wouldn’t make our bodies tremble. Look what they’ve turned God’s blessing into—a means of torment for us.” The woman fell silent. She had nothing to say, just nodded in agreement. At that moment, I came out of the house. Seeing Hajer, I said, “God bless you. Where have you been in this situation? Do you know how many times I’ve come and knocked on your door? Come here, come here. Until they drain the water, you can’t go into the house.” Hajer realized she had no choice but to agree. She was right. Now her entire house and its foundation were floating on water. She worried that her refrigerator hadn’t burned out. The woman said goodbye and left. Hajer glanced at her house door and with a furrowed brow, came to our house.
Our house is half a meter above street level. Therefore, we are not affected by the rain disaster. I made her take a shower. Tomorrow, when they are no longer worried about people’s lives being destroyed, they will turn on the pump to collect the water. Hajer ate dinner among tears and sighs. She had to sleep early. We have a lot of work tomorrow.
Based on a true story
Farzaneh Alidoust
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