Tuesday 17 November 2009

Not your duty

It was 11 p.m. We were getting back from Zayande- Rud bridge in Esfahan to our hotel; a 10 minute walk and enjoying every bit of our trip to that part of Iran. We were talking about how pity it was that we did not have the chance to see Zayande- Rud as a river that it was -as it was all dried at that time of the year- and mentioning still it was interesting that we could do something you usually could not do; walking in the middle of that river...I don't know exactly maybe that was when he showed up, we were passing by a passage, lights were on and shining in the streets and people were walking and shopping all over the places. He came straight to me. I could estimate his age to be around 10, maybe 12, holding a bunch of...God! I don't even remember of what, of chewing gum maybe or these cards which are written on some prays in Arabic (?) He came and I could see only resistance in his face which wouldn't fade until we would buy one. We looked at each other, me and the other Behi and I don't remember if we said anything to each other at all. That was not the first time that I had to deal with one of these kids and I normally didn't give them money or wouldn't buy anything from them. I told him: "why are you doing this, you should have been asleep or at home by now" .The typical story came up: "My father is sick, cannot work and I should work". I didn't want to say don't tell lie because I thought the truth was perhaps much more painful than the line he was saying. With a voice louder than my usual tone I said: "This is not your duty, you should be playing or asleep right now" and meanwhile I was handing him the money and taking the thing that I was buying from him. I still can see his face and eyes at that very moment; A face who was surprised, happy, sad and scared, he repeated his short story again while giving me the thing and taking the money : "My father cannot work"... I shouted at him: "This is not your duty, you must know this, this is not your duty" and he left so fast. I don't know, maybe I thought I was telling him something very important that no one never ever told him before, like a forbidden secret, something that could change his life and I was shaking at the time. I knew that I was fooling myself. What he could do really, what a striking knowledge a 10- year-old- boy would get from such a shouting and if so what he could do after knowing that...

1 comment:

Hiva said...

I know a friend who used to teach voluntarily to these street kids. These kids are dealing with incredibly though situations that never an adult like you and me would possibly tolerate Behi junam. You can certainly guess it's not easy to survive in Tehran or other city's street without going through many dark things...