The Book of Fate Read online

  THE

  BOOK

  OF

  FATE

  Parinoush Saniee

  Translated from Persian by Sara Khalili

  Copyright © Parinoush Saniee 2003, 2013

  Translation copyright © Sara Khalili 2013

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Distribution of this electronic edition via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal. Please do not participate in electronic piracy of copyrighted material; purchase only authorized electronic editions. We appreciate your support of the author’s rights.

  All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This edition published in 2013 by

  House of Anansi Press Inc.

  110 Spadina Avenue, Suite 801

  Toronto, ON, M5V 2K4

  Tel. 416-363-4343

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  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Saniee, Parinoush

  [Sahme man. English]

  The book of fate / Parinoush Saniee ; translated by Sara Khalili.

  Translation of: Sahme man.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN: 978-1-77089-383-2 (pbk.). ISBN: 978-1-77089-384-9 (html)

  1. Iran — History — 1979–1997 — Fiction. 2. Iran — History — 1997– — Fiction.

  I. Khalili, Sara, translator II. Title. III. Title: Sahme man. English.

  PK6562.29.A55S2413 2013 891’.5534 C2013-902787-4 C2013-902788-2

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2013938680

  Cover design: Sophie Burdess

  Cover photograph (Face): Rui Vale Sousa / Shutterstock; (Texture): Llaszlo / Shutterstock

  We acknowledge for their financial support of our publishing program the Canada Council for the Arts, the Ontario Arts Council, and the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund

  The Book of Fate

  Table of Contents

  Cast of Characters

  Locations

  Glossary

  The Book of Fate

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Ahmad – Massoumeh’s older brother

  Akbar – communist party activist

  Ali – Massoumeh’s younger brother

  Amir-Hossein – old sweetheart of Mrs Parvin

  Ardalan – Parvaneh’s son

  Ardeshir – Mansoureh’s son

  Asghar Agha – one of Massoumeh’s suitors

  Atefeh – Massoud’s wife and Mr Maghsoudi’s daughter

  Aunt Ghamar – Massoumeh’s maternal aunt

  Bahman Khan – Mansoureh’s husband

  Bibi – Hamid’s paternal grandmother

  Dariush – Parvaneh’s younger brother

  Dorna – Siamak and Lili’s daughter, Massoumeh’s first granddaughter

  Dr Ataii – neighbourhood pharmacist

  Ehteram-Sadat – Massoumeh’s maternal cousin and Mahmoud’s wife

  Faati – Massoumeh’s younger sister

  Faramarz Abdollahi – Shirin’s fiancé

  Farzaneh – Parvaneh’s younger sister

  Firouzeh – Faati’s daughter, Massoumeh’s niece

  Gholam-Ali – Mahmoud’s eldest son

  Gholam-Hossein – Mahmoud’s second son and youngest child

  Grandmother – Massoumeh’s paternal grandmother

  Granny Aziz – Massoumeh’s maternal grandmother

  Haji Agha – Mrs Parvin’s husband

  Hamid Soltani – Massoumeh’s husband, communist activist

  Khosrow – Parvaneh’s husband

  Ladan – Massoud’s fiancée

  Laleh – Parvaneh’s second daughter

  Lili – Parvaneh’s daughter

  Mahboubeh – Massoumeh’s paternal cousin

  Mahmoud – Massoumeh’s oldest brother

  Manijeh – Hamid’s youngest sister, Massoumeh’s sister-in-law

  Mansoureh – Hamid’s older sister, Massoumeh’s sister-in-law

  Maryam – nosy classmate of Massoumeh

  Massoud – Massoumeh’s son and second child

  Massoumeh (Massoum) Sadeghi – narrator and protagonist of the novel

  Mehdi – Shahrzad’s husband and co-leader of communist organisation

  Mohsen Khan – Mahboubeh’s husband

  Monir – Hamid’s oldest sister, Massoumeh’s sister-in-law

  Mostafa Sadeghi (Agha Mostafa) – Massoumeh’s father

  Mr and Mrs Ahmadi – Parvaneh’s parents

  Mr Maghsoudi – Massoud’s fellow soldier at the war front and later his boss and father-in-law

  Mr Motamedi – vice president at the government agency where Massoumeh is employed

  Mr Shirzadi – a department director at the government agency where Massoumeh works

  Mr Zargar – Massoumeh’s supervisor at the government agency

  Mrs Parvin – next-door neighbour of Massoumeh’s family

  Nazy – Saiid’s wife

  Parvaneh Ahmadi – Massoumeh’s best friend

  Sadegh Khan – Faati’s husband, Massoumeh’s brother-in-law

  Saiid Zareii – Dr Ataii’s assistant pharmacist

  Shahrzad (Aunt Sheri) – Hamid’s friend and co-leader of communist organisation

  Shirin – Massoumeh’s daughter and youngest child

  Siamak – Massoumeh’s son and first child

  Sohrab – Firouzeh’s husband

  Tayebeh (Mother) – Massoumeh’s mother

  Uncle Abbas – Massoumeh’s paternal uncle

  Uncle Asadollah – Massoumeh’s paternal uncle

  Uncle Hamid (Hamid Agha) – Massoumeh’s maternal uncle

  Zahra – Mahmoud’s daughter and middle child

  Zari – Massoumeh’s older sister who died when Massoumeh was eight years old

  LOCATIONS

  Ahvaz – capital city of the western province of Khuzestan and near the Iran–Iraq border

  Ghazvin – a major city in northern Iran

  Golab-Darreh – a town north of Tehran, in the Alborz mountain range

  Kermanshah – the capital city of Kermanshah province in western Iran

  Mashad – a city in north-eastern Iran and near the borders of Afghanistan and Turkmenistan; considered holy as the site of the Shrine of Imam Reza

  Mount Damavand – the highest peak of the Alborz mountain range, north of Tehran

  Qum – a city south-west of Tehran and the centre for Shi’a Islam scholarship. Considered holy as the site of the Fatima al-Massoumeh Shrine

  Rezaieh – a city in north-western Iran and the capital of West Azerbaijan province

  Shemiran – northern suburb of Tehran

  Tabriz – the capital city of East Azerbaijan province in northern Iran

  Zahedan – the capital city of Sistan and Baluchestan province, near the border with Pakistan and Afghanistan

  GLOSSARY

  Agha

  – an honorific meaning gentleman, sir, mister.

  Haft-Seen

  – Literally meaning ‘The Seven ‘S’s’ is a traditional table setting of Nowruz, the Iranian new year celebration at the start of spring. The Haft-Seen table includes seven items all starting with the letter ‘s’ in the Persian alphabet and they symbolise rebirth, health, happiness, prosperity, joy, patience and beauty. The seven items are apples, sprouts, vinegar, garlic, s
umac, samanu (a creamy wheat pudding) and senjed (a sweet Silver berry or Oleaster fruit). Among other items included are: mirror, candles, painted eggs, coins, goldfish and rose water.

  Hijab

  – refers to both the head-covering worn by Muslim women and modest Islamic styles of dress in general.In Iran, the most common forms of hijab have traditionally been the headscarf and the chador. In post-revolution Iran, women are also required to wear a loose-fitting long tunic or manteau.

  Khan

  – obsolescent title of the nobility or tribal chiefs, now used as an honorific corresponding to ‘Sir’.

  Korsi

  – traditional furniture of Iranian culture. It is a low table with a heater underneath it and blankets thrown over it. People sit on futons around the korsi with the blankets covering their legs. It is a relatively inexpensive way to stay warm in the winter, as the futons and blankets trap the warm air. During the cold months, most family activities take place around the korsi.

  Wedding sofreh

  – a fine cloth, often with glittering gold and silver threads, is spread out on the floor and adorned with various foods and objects traditionally associated with marriage. These include a mirror flanked by a pair of candelabra, a tray of multi-coloured spices, an assortment of sweets and pastries, a large flatbread, coloured eggs, a platter of feta cheese and fresh herbs, two large sugar cones, a flask of rose water, a small brazier burning wild rue, and an open Qu’ran or a Diwan of Hafez.

  SAVAK

  – Secret Service Police.

  CHAPTER ONE

  I was always surprised by the things my friend Parvaneh did. She never gave a thought to her father’s honour and reputation. She talked loudly on the street, looked at shop windows and sometimes even stopped and pointed things out to me. No matter how many times I said, ‘It’s not proper, let’s go’, she just ignored me. Once she even shouted out to me from across the street, and worse yet, she called me by my first name. I was so embarrassed I prayed I would just melt and vanish into the earth. Thank God, none of my brothers were around, or who knows what would have happened.

  When we moved from Qum, Father allowed me to continue going to school. Later, when I told him, in Tehran girls don’t wear chadors to school and I will be a laughing stock, he even let me wear a headscarf, but I had to promise to be careful and not bring him shame by becoming corrupted and spoiled. I didn’t know what he meant and how a girl could get spoiled like stale food, but I did know what I had to do to not bring him shame, even without wearing a chador and proper hijab. I love Uncle Abbas! I heard him tell Father, ‘Brother! A girl has to be good inside. It’s not about proper hijab. If she’s bad, she’ll do a thousand things under her chador that would leave a father with no honour at all. Now that you have moved to Tehran, you have to live like Tehranis. The days when girls were locked up at home have passed. Let her go to school and let her dress like everyone else, otherwise she will stand out even more.’

  Uncle Abbas was very wise and sensible, and he had to be. At the time, he had been living in Tehran for almost ten years. He came to Qum only when someone died. Whenever he came, Grandmother, God rest her soul, would say, ‘Abbas, why don’t you come to see me more often?’

  And Uncle Abbas, with that loud laugh, would say, ‘What can I do? Tell the relatives to die more often.’ Grandmother would slap him and pinch his cheek so hard that its mark would stay on his face for a long time.

  Uncle Abbas’s wife was from Tehran. She always wore a chador when she came to Qum, but everyone knew that in Tehran she didn’t keep proper hijab. Her daughters paid no mind to anything at all. They even went to school without hijab.

  When Grandmother died, her children sold the family house where we lived and gave everyone their share. Uncle Abbas told Father, ‘Brother, this is no longer the place to live. Pack up and come to Tehran. We’ll put our shares together and we’ll buy a shop. I will rent a house for you near by and we’ll work together. Come; start building a life for yourself. The only place you can make money is Tehran.’

  At first, my older brother Mahmoud objected. He said, ‘In Tehran one’s faith and religion fall by the wayside.’

  But my brother Ahmad was happy. ‘Yes, we have to go,’ he insisted. ‘After all, we have to make something of ourselves.’

  And Mother cautioned, ‘But think of the girls. They won’t be able to find a decent husband there, no one knows us in Tehran. Our friends and family are all here. Massoumeh has her year six certificate and even studied an extra year. It’s time for her to get married. And Faati has to start school this year. God knows how she’ll turn out in Tehran. Everyone says a girl who grows up in Tehran isn’t all that good.’

  Ali, who was in year four, said, ‘She wouldn’t dare. It’s not like I’m dead! I will watch her like a hawk and I won’t let her budge.’ Then he kicked Faati who was sitting on the floor, playing. She started screaming, but no one paid any attention.

  I went and hugged her and said, ‘What nonsense. Do you mean to say that all the girls in Tehran are bad?’

  Brother Ahmad, who loved Tehran to death, snapped, ‘You, shut up!’ Then he turned to the others and said, ‘The problem is Massoumeh. We’ll marry her off here and then move to Tehran. This way, there’ll be one less nuisance. And we’ll have Ali watch over Faati.’ He patted Ali on the back and proudly said that the boy has zeal and honour, and will act responsibly. My heart sank. From the start, Ahmad had been against my going to school. It was all because he himself didn’t study and kept failing year eight until he finally dropped out of school, and now he didn’t want me to study more than he had.

  Grandmother, God rest her soul, was also very unhappy that I was still going to school and constantly harangued Mother. ‘Your girl has no skills. When she gets married, they’ll send her back within a month.’ She told Father, ‘Why do you keep spending money on the girl? Girls are useless. They belong to someone else. You work so hard and spend it on her and in the end you’ll end up having to spend a lot more to give her away.’

  Although Ahmad was almost twenty years old, he didn’t have a proper job. He was an errand boy at Uncle Assadollah’s store in the bazaar, but he was always roaming around the streets. He wasn’t like Mahmoud who was only two years older than him but was serious, dependable and very devout and never missed his prayers or his fasting. Everyone thought Mahmoud was ten years older than Ahmad.

  Mother really wanted Mahmoud to marry my maternal cousin, Ehteram-Sadat. She said Ehteram-Sadat was a Seyyed – a descendant of the Prophet. But I knew my brother liked Mahboubeh, my paternal cousin. Every time she came to our house, Mahmoud would blush and start stammering. He would stand in a corner and watch Mahboubeh, especially when her chador slipped off her head. And Mahboubeh, God bless her, was so playful and giddy that she forgot to keep herself properly covered. Whenever Grandmother scolded her to show some shame in front of a man who was not her immediate kin, she would say, ‘Forget it, Grandmother, they’re like my brothers!’ And she would start laughing out loud again.

  I had noticed that as soon as Mahboubeh left, Mahmoud would sit and pray for two hours, and then he kept repeating, ‘May God have mercy on our soul! May God have mercy on our soul!’ I guess in his mind he had committed a sin. God only knows.

  Before our move to Tehran, there was plenty of fighting and quarrelling in the house for a long time. The only thing everyone agreed on was that they had to marry me off and be rid of me. It was as if the entire population of Tehran was waiting for me to arrive so that they could corrupt me. I went to Her Holiness Massoumeh’s Shrine every day and pleaded for her to do something so that my family would take me with them and let me go to school. I would cry and say I wished I were a boy or that I might get sick and die like Zari. She was three years older than me, but she caught diphtheria and died when she was eight years old.

  Thank God my prayers were answered and not a single soul knocked on our door to ask for my hand in marriage. In due course, Father straigh
tened out his affairs and Uncle Abbas rented a house for us near Gorgan Street. And then everyone just sat around waiting to see what would become of me. Whenever Mother found herself in the company of people she considered worthy, she would comment, ‘It’s time for Massoumeh to get married.’ And I would turn red with humiliation and anger.

  But Her Holiness was on my side and no one showed up. Finally, the family somehow got word to an old suitor who had since got married and divorced that he should step forward again. He was financially well off and relatively young, but no one knew why he had divorced his wife after only a few months. To me he looked foul-tempered and scary. When I found out what horror lay ahead, I put all ceremony and modesty aside, threw myself at Father’s feet and cried a bucketful of tears until he agreed to take me to Tehran with them. Father was tender-hearted and I knew he loved me despite the fact that I was a girl. According to Mother, after Zari died he fretted over me; I was very thin and he was afraid I would die, too. He always believed that because he had been ungrateful when Zari was born, God had punished him by taking her away. Who knows, perhaps he had been ungrateful at the time of my birth as well. But I truly loved him. He was the only person in our house who understood me.

  Every day when he came home, I would take a towel and go stand next to the reflecting pool. He would put his hand on my shoulder and dip his feet in the pool a few times. Then he would wash his hands and face. I would give him the towel and while drying his face he would peer at me with his light-brown eyes from over the towel in such a way that I knew he loved me and was pleased with me. I wanted to kiss him, but, well, it was inappropriate for a grown girl to kiss a man, even if he was her father. In any case, Father took pity on me and I swore on everything in the world that I would not become corrupted and I would not bring him shame.