“Nothing. I’d walk out of here with you.” My whole body was drenched with sweat.
“Go. Go. You’re my homing pigeon. Wherever you go, you’ll come right back to me.”
There were two Pasdars standing next to the plane. My legs could barely support me. Who could they be after? Did they know what I was doing? Were they going to take me away? My mother was there to say good-bye—she was as white as a sheet. She was turning a tasbih over in her hand with her thumb and praying under her breath. She whispered into my ear, “Go, and don’t look back. Go, and get out of this hell. Go, and be free. Fly away, my daughter. Fly.”
On the British Airways flight, I covered my eyes until the pilot announced that we’d flown over the border. Then I took off my head scarf.
epilogue
“I Brought This Star for You”
I haven’t returned to Iran. Spring came to an end, and it was summer. Amir had somehow gotten hold of my number and was leaving messages that made my hair stand on end. In Persian and in English, sometimes threatening, other times in a soft, kind tone. The only answer he got was silence. Then the e-mails started.
He wrote that my life and the lives of members of my family were in danger. He promised he would come after me, even in America. Then he said I was free to stay in the United States only if I stayed in touch with him regularly. Once he asked me if I was healthy, if I needed anything he could give me. Another time he wanted to know if I would be returning to Tehran to visit my family for the Nouruz holidays, as he could arrange this visit without any problem—I only needed to get in touch with him. They started summoning my mother to court and threatening her. Should I go back to Tehran? Where did the performance end? Where would my story end?
In September 2000, during a session of the General Assembly at the United Nations, I waited in the lobby of the hotel where the Iranian delegation was staying. There was one person I had to tell my story to. I had to talk to Agha-ye Khatami. I looked around, trying to spot the person most likely to help me arrange a presidential meeting. A portly, jolly man appeared in the lobby, and I recognized him from his picture in the newspaper. He was Seyyed Mohammed Abtahi, the president’s chief of staff (and later the Vice President of Iran). He had a big smile on his face, and his eyes glimmered like polished marbles. We sat next to one another on a sofa in the lobby. I trusted him, and I cried as I told him my whole story, detailing the long days and months of crisis and worry.
“I’ll help you meet President Khatami. I’m terribly sorry for everything that’s happened to you.”
On the day Khatami was to fly back to Tehran, right before they took him to see the Statue of Liberty, it was arranged for him to receive me in his private suite. Khatami kept his eyes down as I spoke, only occasionally looking up and meeting my gaze. It wasn’t easy for him to listen to what I had to tell him. I started crying so hard that I couldn’t keep talking.
“My daughter, don’t cry. God is a friend to those who are wronged. I’ll put Agha-ye Abtahi in charge of your case. Stay in touch with us.”
Pouring my heart out in this private meeting was a great release. I found renewed strength in my journalistic work and was encouraged to cover Khatami’s travels and Iranian foreign relations, mostly for the Associated Press and the Village Voice in New York. The next time I met Abtahi in person was at an OPEC summit in Caracas, where he told me he’d held several meetings with the Minister of Intelligence, Agha-ye Ali Yunusi, and that Khatami had requested all my files from the judiciary.
Working for the AP, I embarked on travels throughout the Middle East. Khatami continued to treat me with special kindness, and I had the distinction of interviewing him at a summit of leaders from the Muslim world in Qatar. How satisfying it was for me to have Agha-ye Khatami address me personally by name and ask me how I was doing in front of hundreds of people. I traveled freely from Qatar to Saudi Arabia and from Saudi Arabia to Egypt and from Egypt to the United Arab Emirates. But I never returned to Iran. I posted translations of my articles on an Iranian Web site to share my liberation with those still working under censorship and fear.
“Your files have been lost by the judicial authorities,” Agha-ye Abtahi told me finally. Apparently, the Ministry of Intelligence had been displeased that Khatami was investigating my case. He had helped me as much as he could, but it was shocking to realize again the limits of Khatami’s power.
In Qatar, I approached Khatami as he was leaving his hotel, and said, “Khoda hafez, Agha-ye Khatami.” He smiled and said, “Come along, let’s go to Tehran together.”
“If you give me a letter guaranteeing my protection . . .”
He answered, “I don’t know whether anyone can protect any of us when we get to Tehran.”
I stood at the hotel entrance and watched Khatami walk away, as the delegation that had come with him passed me by. Another cleric, Agha-ye Du’ai, stopped and told me, “Pray for us and for Agha-ye Khatami.”
And thus immigration and self-imposed exile led me unexpectedly to the life I’d always wanted, full of freedom, security, and journalistic opportunities. In prison, I’d begun a metamorphosis, and now my cocoon was breaking open. It wasn’t easy, but I slowly spread my wings. Jean helped me with my visa and encouraged me to apply for political asylum. Other new friends helped me find a place to live and freelance writing jobs.
For a year I had the same nightmare that I was back in the airplane on the tarmac at Mehrabad airport, returning to Tehran. I would suddenly realize that I wasn’t going home to my family but returning to Amir. I imagined he would torture me to death, and I would beg the British Airways crew to let me stay on the plane. Then the nightmares receded as I turned my full attention to continuing my studies.
No one in my family could attend my graduation ceremony, only a few friends. But I knew that my father could see me walking up to receive my diploma, just as he’d watched me hiding under a sofa in a stranger’s home and all the rest of that dangerous game, and that he could now finally find peace in his grave.
The last e-mail from Amir came in the spring of 2004. I have no idea whether he still has his job and his rank or if he has been dismissed. Perhaps his heart is full of hate. Maybe my silence over the past six years led him to believe that I would never tell this story. But I do know that, until the last moment of his life, he will remember my hands. The hands that spoke to him of love. The hand that he lifted up in his own on one of those days when we drove aimlessly through Tehran. The hand that he placed on the gearshift and covered with his own hot grasp when he said, “You don’t know what extraordinary hands you have. I’ve fallen in love with your hands.”
SPRING 2001
My niece, Yasbanu, now four years old, was firmly clenching a gift for me in her hands. We were in Dubai, and it was the first time I’d seen my family after a whole year, the first of my exile. She had grown so much.
I asked Yasbanu, “What is this, little auntie? Open your hands so I can see it.”
“A star,” my sister said. “She’s brought you a blue star.”
It was a funnily shaped piece of blue paper. Katayun said, “It’s like a star. She painted it and cut it out for you herself.”
Yasbanu was waiting anxiously for my reaction, her upturned face yearning for approval. I kissed her. “You are a star. My little star.”
Glossary
Abrar: The Righteous, the name of a newspaper.
Afarineshha-ye Adabi: Literary Creations, the name of a creative writing center.
Aftab-e Yazd: The Yazd Sun. Yazd is a city in central Iran.
Aftabgardan: Sunflower.
agha: Equivalent to “mister” or if used to address a stranger, “sir.”
alif: The letter “a.”
alif to yeh: Equivalent to “a to z.”
Allahu Akbar: God is greatest.
aluche-ye kisa’i: Mashed prunes sold in plastic wrappers.
Ashura: The tenth day of the lunar month of Moharrem when Shi’a muslims commemorate the mar
tyrdom of Imam Hussein.
ayatollah: High-ranking Shi’a cleric.
Azadi: Liberty, the name of a radio station and various squares and other landmarks in Tehran.
bab: Literally “gateway.” Used here to refer to the people claiming to deliver messages to the twelfth imam.
bah, bah, bah: Exclamation of admiration or extreme approval.
Bahman: February.
Basij: Volunteer militia.
befarma’id: A polite entreaty to “help yourself” or “go ahead.”
Behesht-e Zahra: Literally “the paradise of Zahra, daughter of the Prophet.” A large, well-known cemetery outside of Tehran.
Bulvar-e: Boulevard.
chador: Clothing worn by women in Iran to ensure that the hair, neck, and body are properly covered.
Chahararshanbeh-ye Suri: Literally “the Wednesday of the red rose.” The last Wednesday before the Iranian New Year.
chelow kebab: Grilled meat (usually lamb) with rice and grilled tomatoes on the side.
dabirestan: High school.
dawyus: Cuckold.
djinn: A spirit, often evil or mischievous.
dokht: Daughter.
doogh: A sour yogurt drink.
Etela’at: Intelligence, the name of a newspaper.
fal: A kind of fortune telling, where hidden knowledge is divined, for instance, from coffee grounds or poetry.
Faravahar: A winged disc that represents the Zorastrian deity Ahura Mazda.
Farmandeh: Commander.
fatwa: An Islamic ruling by a religious authority that may forbid certain practices or condemn the actions of an individual.
fesanjun: A stew made of chicken, walnut, and pomegranate.
Forqan: One of the militant groups that opposed the Islamic Republic. Literally “The Distinction between Truth and Lies.”
Forugh-e Javidan: The Eternal Radiance.
gaz: A kind of nougat.
ghazal: A poetic form with a specific meter and a recurring rhyme.
hajj or hajji: A title bestowed upon one who has made the pilgrimage to Mecca during the hajj. Also a title of respect for elderly individuals or persons of stature who are politely presumed to have made the pilgrimage.
Halabiyabad: Slum neighborhoods in south Tehran.
Hamshahri: One who inhabits a city, a fellow citizen. The name of a newspaper founded by the popular mayor of Tehran, Gholamhussein Karabashi, who was linked to the reformist movement.
hejab: Both the practice of covering oneself appropriately in accordance with Islamic doctrine and the clothing used to do so.
hojjat ul-Islam: Literally “proof of Islam.” A middle-ranking Shi’a cleric, lower than an ayatollah.
husseinya: A religious gathering space where sermons are delivered or the martyrdom of Imam Hussein is described.
imam: A descendant of, and successor to, the Prophet.
Imam-e Zaman: The twelfth imam. He is expected to return “when the world is full of sin” to kill all the infidels.
imamzadeh: The tomb of someone related by blood to one of the Shi’a imams.
in sha’ Allah: God willing.
jadeh: A medium-sized street.
Jumhuri-ye Islami: Islamic Republic, the name of a newspaper.
Ka’aba: The structure housing the black rocks around which the pilgrims perambulate at Mecca.
Kakh-e Javanan: The Youth Palace.
Kayhan: The World, the name of a a large circulation, syndicated newspaper in Tehran with conservative politics.
Kermanshah: A province in western Iran.
khanum: Lady or miss.
Khavaran: An unofficial cemetery in Tehran, much further from the city than Behesht-e Zahra, where the munafiqin are buried.
kheirat: A small gift or refreshment given in honor of the dead.
Khiaban-e: A major street or avenue.
khoda hafez: Good-bye. Literally “God protect you.”
Khordad: May.
khoresht-e badamjan: Eggplant stew.
khoresht-e qorma sabzi: Green-herb stew.
Komité: The military body in charge of enforcing Islamic decorum among the citizenry.
kucheh: Narrow street or lane.
kuku: A type of casserole.
kuku-ye sabzi: An herb casserole.
lavash: Iranian flatbread.
Madar-e Fuladzere-ye Div: A mythical armor-plated monster invoked to describe difficult people.
Mader-jan: An affectionate form of address for an old woman, literally “mother dear.”
madresseh: School.
mahram: A close male relative such as a brother, father, husband, son, or uncle who in Islamic law is authorized to accompany a woman and see her without her chador.
Majlis: Parliament.
Maman Bozorg: A variation of madar-e bozorg, which means grandmother.
manto: Long Islamic overcoat.
masha-Allah: Well done.
masum(eh): One of the blameless, (eh implies female) such as members of the extended family of the Prophet and imams.
meidan: Square.
Mellat Iran: People of Iran, a political party.
Mersad: Ambush.
mofsed: Corrupt, seditious, subversive.
Mordad: August.
muhandes: engineer.
mujahed(in): An individual (or individuals) engaged in a struggle, often armed, for the sake of Islam.
Mujahedin-e Khalgh: A group that continues to oppose the current Iranian regime.
mullah: A Shi’a cleric.
Mumtaz: Excellent.
munafiqin: Muslims who stir up trouble with other Muslims.
musala: Public prayer ground.
nazr: Votive offering.
noql: Sugar-coated almonds, a wedding candy thrown like rice.
Nouruz: The Iranian New Year, March 21st on the western calendar. Omid: Hope.
Omur-e Tarbiyati: A body charged with maintaining Islamic values in the school system.
Pasdaran: Revolutionary guard.
Peykan: An Iranian car model.
qama: Double-edged sword.
qand: Sugar cubes.
qibleh: The marking of the direction of Mecca, which muslims face in order to pray. In mosques, it is a special niche in the wall or corner, while in hotel rooms (or prison cells) it is usually an arrow painted on the ceiling.
Qur’an: The holy text of Islam believed to have been a direct revelation to Mohammed from God delivered by the angel Gabriel.
Resalat: Prophetic Mission, the name of a newspaper.
rezai: Similar to a foster sibling, the relationship carries the privilege of a mahram.
Rial: Iranian monetary unit.
rowzekhan: The singer of a rowze, laments that recount the martyrdom of various religious figures, including of Hussein at Karbala.
Ruba’yat: Quatrains.
saba: Zephyr or morning breeze. The name of a newsletter edited by Faezeh Hashemi.
salaam: Hello. Literally “peace.”
salaamu aleik(um): Peace be upon you, the typical Islamic greeting.
salvat: Praise uttered to the line of Mohammed.
SAVAK: Sazeman-e Etela’at va Amniyat-e Keshvar (National Security and Intelligence Organization).
SAVAKi: Intelligence agent of the Shah.
Seda va Sima: Sound and Vision. An Iranian television station.
Shah: King.
shahanshahi: Royal (of the Shah).
Shahnameh: Abu al-Qassem Ferdowsi’s The Epic of Kings, an epic Persian poem from around the 10th century.
Shahbanu: Queen, literally “Lady of the Shah.”
Shah-Dokht: Princess.
Shahpur: Prince.
Shahyad: Shah’s memory.
Shaqayeq: Poppy.
Shemiran: A neighborhood north of Tehran.
sher-e azad: Free poems.
sher-e nou: New poems.
Shir-e Pak: Pure milk, the name of a factory that produces dairy products.
sigheh: A Shi’a contractual marriage
, which may be specified to be valid for a limited time.
taghuti: From the Qur’anic toghut, used by Khomeini to refer to those who live well at the expense of others and therefore deserve to be destroyed.
tak madeh: A one-time-only allowance in school whereby a failing grade is disregarded.
tak nevesi: Short for Towbeh Kardeh Nevisi, a statement of repentance.
Takht-e Jamshid: Persepolis, the ancient ceremonial capitol of the second Persian dynasty.
taqiah: Shi’a concept of concealing one’s identity for pragmatic purposes that have religious validity.
taryaki: Opium addict.
Tasoa: The ninth day of the lunar month of Moharrem when Shi’is commemorate the martyrdom of Imam Hussein. The eve of Ashura.
tasbih: Rosary.
tekiyehs: Ceremonial spaces specially built in the month of Moharam for the public mourning of Ashura and Tasoa.
timi: Literally “team,” timi describes homes occupied by groups of insurgents operating secretly in residential areas.
toman: Iranian monetary unit equal to ten rials.
tudeh-i: Communist.
Vali-ye Ahd: The Crown Prince.
Vali-ye Asr: The Master of Time.
velayat-e faqih: Rule by Islamic jurisprudence.
velgard: A vagrant, a loitering good-for-nothing.
Ya Sar-e Allah: A religious expression meaning “Oh Movement of God.”
yallah: Expression of impatience or incitement to proceed, similar to “let’s go!”
yeh: The letter “z.”
Zan: Woman, the name of a newspaper. Zanan is the plural form, also the name of a publication.
Zanbaq: Iris.
Zan-e Ruz: Woman of the Day, the name of a weekly magazine.
zan-e sigheh: The brides of temporary marriages.
Zeinab: The daughter of the first Shi’a imam and the sister of the imam Hussein. The Sisters of Zeinab were female Revolutionary Guards.
Zoroastrianism: A pre-Islamic religion in Iran still practiced by a small minority. The faith espouses a dualistic view of the world, where creation is divided into good and evil.
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