Rivan Eshkaftaki – My Womanly World “Dandelion” (English)
*My Womanly World “Dandelion”*
I shouldn’t have agreed, shouldn’t have come. The soldier looks at the towel inside the plastic; when he sees it, he asks, “Is this a legitimate visit?”
As my scarf slips from my head, I pull it forward and nod affirmatively. The booths in the waiting hall are still closed. I sit next to a woman who has placed her plastic bag on the chair next to hers. The woman looks at the bag under my scarf. “Is this a legitimate visit?”
I nod again. “I haven’t seen you before; is this your first time?”
I nod again. She looks at the clock on the wall and with a smile says, “The clocks here never work right.” She waves at a woman with the same smile and gestures for her to come over.
“Her name is Shahrzad, she’s really cool. We met here.” Shahrzad stands in front of us, opens her scarf, and thrusts forward her chest.
“Zari, dear, look how much I’ve spent for Hajji.” Zari laughs.
“Come sit before someone sees you.” Shahrzad places Zari’s plastic on the ground. She sits beside it and gestures at me, Zari says, “It’s her first time.”
As the booth opens, Zari and Shahrzad get up; I follow them. Two women ahead of us are already forming a line. The female officer says, “Legitimate visits, one at a time, come inside.” When it’s my turn, I push aside the muddy curtain and enter the inspection booth.
“What’s your husband’s name?” “Ojan Fani.”
She looks for the name Ojan on the list she has. “Come forward.”
She conducts a cursory physical inspection. “If you have makeup, remove it; the officer on the other side will catch you. Go. Next.”
I enter the courtyard where the prison transport vehicles are lined up, praying they don’t find anything to stop the visit. Ojan was never predictable. Two weeks ago, when I saw him in the courthouse corridor, he even refused to talk to me. I had asked many times to come visit with his mother, but he refused. All this time he insisted I not visit him. Now, out of nowhere, he requests a visit; moreover, a legitimate one. As I enter a corridor fenced with wire mesh, a plainclothes officer checks my ID and national card. Walking through the corridor to the entrance of the hall, I glance at the guard towers through the intertwined lozenges. Zari and Shahrzad are seated in the second waiting hall. I go sit next to them. Zari points to the chair next to hers and says, “Sit. They open the door at seven-thirty. You look pale, haven’t you had breakfast?”
“No.” Some soldiers with blue uniforms come and go in the courtyard; I pull my scarf forward.
“It feels bad, everyone knows why you came. But don’t show it. Don’t be so stressed, girl. This too shall pass.” “Stressed? No.”
Maybe I should say I’m scared. Since Ojan’s request for a visit was accepted last week, I’ve been having nightmares every night. As they open the gate, I pass through the physical inspection booth and enter the face-to-face meeting courtyard. The ground is covered with gravel. I follow the women past concrete gazebos. Our path ends near the playground equipment. About a dozen women one after the other, pass by a row of soldiers facing the wall. I pull my scarf up to my forehead and lower my head. My eye catches a dandelion being blown aimlessly by the wind under the women’s chadors. I stoop down and pick it up. I look at the high walls all around me with barbed wire twisted into their hearts. I don’t want to leave it here. I’ve fallen behind the women and quicken my steps to reach the end of the courtyard and go up the stairs. At the entrance of the hall, a female officer takes Ojan’s and my ID. Two rows of women in black chadors sit facing each other. I sit next to Zari. Shahrzad is across from us. Zari bends down to untie her shoes.
“It’s better this way, so I’m not delayed during inspection.” “Do they inspect again?”
She nods affirmatively. “Yes, but it’s the last one. They’re strict; they won’t let you bring anything across, at most a bank card. What’s that in your hand?”
I open my hand. “A dandelion.”
Shahrzad pulls out her lipstick, applies it to her lips, and then with her finger, she blends it over
her eyelids and cheeks. A young girl sits next to her and asks, “Can you do mine too?” Shahrzad applies lipstick to the girl’s lips and asks, “Little one, how old are you?”
“Seventeen.” “When did you have time to get married? When was he imprisoned?”
“They framed him, otherwise the stuff wasn’t his, they put it in his car. We had just been married for two weeks.”
“Poor thing.” “You know, my mom doesn’t even know I’m here. She says she’ll divorce me, but I came on purpose; to be with him, now she can’t easily divorce me. He’s my father-in-law; I love him.”
“You’re even crazier than me, kid.” “What’s your husband’s crime?”
“He’s not really my husband; we’re just temporarily married, but he promised to make it permanent. Debts and checks and stuff. His wife doesn’t come see him, doesn’t care about him. Better for me.” Zari whispers so only I can hear, “If I could, I’d come out of fear. Then he might hold me close and stick to me.”
“I came out of fear too. I was afraid not to come, he might then confirm the story he made up in his head.” “What are you two whispering about?”
Zari laughs. “Nothing, girl.”
The female officer opens the door and says, “Two at a time, come in.” I enter the small inspection room with Zari. My eyes fall on the bed next to the room. The younger female officer gestures for me to sit down and stand up.
“Take off your shoes, put on slippers, come forward.” I put the dandelion inside my shoe. The gray slippers, several sizes too large, slip on, and I walk towards the officer.
“Open your clip. Unbutton your coat. Pull down your pants and underwear to your knees, sit down, stand up.” Cold sweat covers my body. The older officer raises her voice at Zari. “Ma’am, sit down properly, get up, I don’t have the patience for flirting first thing in the morning. Go on, take off your pants, lie down on the bed.”
Then she turns to the younger officer and says, “Where are the gloves?” The younger officer, while gesturing for me to sit and stand, says, “First drawer.”
“Ma’am, I sit and stand.” “My dear, don’t waste my time. Lie down on the bed, unless you’re scared something’s with you?” “No, for God’s sake.”
“Go on, lie down on the bed.” The officer sips her tea and stands up, approaching me.
“Good, pull up your clothes.” She grabs my hair. Her hand moves from the back of my neck down to my knees and back up. She moves her hand over my breasts, this time from my stomach down to my calves and squeezes my pants legs several times. I hear the raspy voice of the officer from behind.
“Quickly, the prayer position, lady, I don’t have time.” The young officer says, “You dress and go. Take care.”
I button up and enter the hall with slippers too big for my feet. Shahrzad sits across from the stand with a plastic full of snacks. “So, where’s Zari?”
“The officer caught her.” I’ve told her a thousand times not to sigh and moan in front of them; they’ll make you lie down and search you from front to back; oh look, the symbol of the place has arrived.
“Who?” She points to the officer behind the counter.
“That’s the boss here.” “What does that mean?”
“Oh, come on, you’re so naive. She allocates the rooms. If you’re lucky, she’ll say the rooms on the left corridor are better, less light. All this is experience I’m sharing with you. By the way, how long has your husband been here?” “About a year.”
“What’s his crime? Come on, there’s Zari. Honestly, look how she walks. How come you didn’t come this whole year?” “He says no to face-to-face visits.”
Zari sits next to us. “That woman, devoid of everything, is just looking for an excuse.”
Shahrzad winks at me and says, “So finally someone has their eye on you.” “Go away. Did they call my name?”
Shahrzad looks at the wall clock and says, “No, she just arrived.” She turns to me.
“You were saying, isn’t she heartless?” “Oh…”
“I don’t understand why such men marry beautiful women only to worry all the time. They should marry someone like Zari so they can
be sure.” Zari hits Shahrzad hard in the side.
“Shut up.” The officer behind the counter calls Ojan’s name. I get up and go towards her. She pushes Ojan’s and my ID towards me with a key.
“Right corridor, room six, insert twenty thousand.” I catch the card with my teeth as my scarf slips.
“The inmates will be here in about an hour. You only open the door for your husband; you understand… Make sure it’s him, then open the door. The visiting hour ends at eleven; when the loudspeaker announces, let the inmate leave the room first. Half an hour later, when the loudspeaker announces again, you come out. Don’t leave the room early. Enter the code.” She pushes the card towards me.
When I enter the room, the smell of sewage turns my stomach. I lock the door. I toss my scarf crumpled on the bed. I leave the plastic bag with the towel next to the bedpost, trying to close the toilet door, but the latch is broken. The clock on the wall doesn’t work. I stand on a small stool next to the bathroom sink. I take the clock down and hit the batteries several times. It’s no use. From above, my eyes fall on the items on the bathroom counter. I jump down, open the drawer, dump the packets of condoms and Vaseline inside, and close it.
I look at my swollen eyes in the mirror. What did I want to prove by coming? When a year had passed and he hadn’t once looked into my eyes, either in court or during the few times I visited. No more sounds of footsteps come from the hallway. The silence frustrates me. I turn on the small TV on the fridge. I switch to the news channel; the clock next to the image lacks a second hand. The minutes are also stuck and don’t pass. The smell of sewage irritates me; I stand up, picking up my scarf to leave when a sound at the door comes. “Open up.”
I stand motionless behind the door. “Open up, now.”
I open the door. “Is this the time to be coy in front of a bunch of mustached men? Won’t you say, ‘hold me later’?”
He turns the key twice. Then he removes it and puts it in his pocket. From under his whitened stubble, I can see his sunken cheeks. “Hello.”
“You’d be happy if the verdict came, saying ‘Oh great, his head went above the noose, now I can easily go after my chores, right?'” He looks at me; he knows I’m scared. I sit on the edge of the bed and steal my gaze from his. He stands in front of me, places his index finger under my chin, and lifts my head.
“Look into my eyes, now say it.” My gaze moves from the few white hairs on his chest to the wrinkles under his eyes.
“I’m not.” “I didn’t hear you.”
“I’m not happy.” He brings his hand towards my throat and presses with his thumb and forefinger.
“Everyone may not know, but you and I and that ungrateful Siavash know well that our fight wasn’t about money or partnership. Now I’ll ask a question, answer honestly. And I’ll only ask once. What was between you and Siavash?” Explaining has no use. My left ear, which has been deaf for a long time, and my bruised ribs testify to that. He presses; I show no reaction, just look into his eyes. The delusion that previously had one victim could claim another when I knew why I came. I shouldn’t have agreed, shouldn’t have come. I think of the dandelion that will forever remain inside the ominous shoe. Everything goes black. I fall to the ground, my head hitting the carpeted floor several times. His voice is the only thing I hear.
“Why?” I breathe again; the smell of sewage hits me under the stomach. He sprinkles water on my face with his fingertips. I open my eyes; light from between the window bars hits my eyes.
“Fool, I love you, I’d do anything for you, why don’t you understand? Why don’t you love me?” My limbs are numb; I can’t move them. He wipes the tears running toward my temples with his thumb. I can’t speak; my throat bursts.
“Just one word.” “Ojan, I never, ever even thought of betraying you. Ojan, you made a mistake. By God, you made a mistake.”
He lies down next to me on the ground. Neither of us speaks. When the loudspeaker announces the end of the visit, I ignore the damp towel and leave it there in the room. The dandelion is still in my shoe. I pull
my scarf up to my chin. The length of the courtyard seems multiplied, and the walls have grown taller. I take long strides, looking back every few steps. The other women, using the excuse of the sun, have also pulled their chadors forward. No words are exchanged between us. The soldiers make the inmates who had face-to-face visits turn towards the wall, their legs chained, while they stand with their backs to us. My gaze falls on Shahrzad’s shoulders trembling under her chador. Both waiting halls are crowded. I reach the exit door. The dandelion, now deformed in my sweaty palms, I blow gently; a little further on, it falls to the ground. But again, it rises and surrenders itself to the wind.
The end.
No comment