Parvin’s Marriage: The Captive Bird
Although I had put twenty-eight springs behind, I didn't like to get married. But my father and other family members insisted me to get married and settle down. Finally they forced me to marry my cousin. My cousin was a police officer. He was a tall, elegant and very serious and strict young man. A full-fledge military officer. Now he had to become the husband of a girl who was a sensitive poetess. The husband of a girl would walk slowly so that the delicate Chinese of privacy and loneliness of butterflies aren't cracked.
My cousin was serving in the city of Kermanshah. He had a high position. He was the commander of Kermanshah police force. It wasn't a low position. Being the commander of police force of Kermanshah during that period was very important and was an honor. And apparently being the wife of the commander of police force was a great blessing. But for me everything was the other way round. From the very beginning of my marriage with my cousin, I realized that it was the greatest blunder I had committed throughout my life, and to be fair and unbiased, my cousin too had the same feeling. He too committed a mistake by surrendering to marriage with a poetess. After all, a police officer and a poetess are worlds apart. How was it possible for a police officer and a poetess to go along with each other? Even if it were possible, it never ever materialized in our case, … It was four months after our wedding that I went to Kermanshah to my husband’s house. I wholeheartedly loved Kermanshah. It was a beautiful city. Before reaching the city, I saw the Bistun Mount and heard the sound of Farhad’s adze, who was cutting the mount for the sake of Shirin’s love. And with a new feeling and pinning new hopes on the future, I entered my husband’s house, unaware of the fact that my marriage with my cousin would be an ill-sorted patch in my life; unaware of the fact that a deep, horrible hiatus existed between me and my husband – as wide a gap as the Bistun Mount. As if I was on this side of the Mount and he – my husband – on the other. In order to fill this gap we had to remove the Bistun Mount. But the problem was that neither my husband was Farhad nor was I Shirin. To be honest, my husband was a nice, learned man, but had a military spirit and morale – which was very good for a person like him – but this spirit and morale wasn't compatible with my poetic, sensitive spirit. Nothing could fill the gap between us. Even love.
Translated by: Sadroddin Musawi
