Parvin Etesami in Her Own Words-1

(Sizdah Bedar)

Spring with all its fragrance and freshness had arrived in the orchard of our house. As if a chunk of spring had just fallen into our yard. The smell of Farvardin [first Iranian calendar month] had permeated everywhere. There was a warm and pleasant sunshine. I could just see the warm breath of the earth coming out of the soil of the orchard. It was Sizdahbedar Festival [the thirteenth day of the Iranian New Year].

Although the sky was clear and it was a sunny day, few patches of adamant dark clouds had settled over the mountain. As if they were threatening the poor sun from far distance, that is, they would eventually snare it, drawing the curtains of its room and imprisoning it. I was afraid lest all of a sudden it would rain. I didn’t like that day to rain, not even a drizzle. The few adamant dark clouds were continuously disturbing my concentration. Off and on my glance would clandestinely fly to the mountains, evaluating the clouds. My mother had told me that on the day of Sizdahbedar even if it were a sunny day, some clouds would finally arrive and the rain would by and by soak the earth, dispersing the people who had gone out to dispel the bad omen of the Thirteen Day of the New Year. The joy of the Sizdahbedar lies in its drizzle. But I didn’t like that day to rain. I liked to dispel the bad omen of the Thirteenth at the orchard of our house.

I had spread a pale, worn-out mat in the middle of the humid orchard. I had arranged toys around myself. I had also some wooden, cotton, ceramic and plaster dolls as well as a small brass samovar.

Translated by: Sadroddin Musawi

Other links:

Parvins poem on Ants

Parvin and Bahar on Sizdah Bedar

Parvin Etesami’s Autobiography