Day and Aqa Nuri
Written: December 10, 2003 = 2562 Shahanshahi
Revised: November 24, 2006
Friends, Free Thinkers, Fellow Persians and Comrades:
This is something
I wrote a long time ago on a Labor Day and recently revised it to
be published. It is an interesting true story, which has happened
to me back home and during the uneasy days of 1978.
Day of Labor is on May 1st but American Labor Day is on September
4th, dates do not matter, let's look into the contents and true
meaning of The Labor Day, let's celebrate our production force,
our brave labors. This takes me back to the olden days, long time
ago, way back then and back home when there was a land existed far
and far away, named Iran ...... way and way before the occupation
of this beautiful land by The Half Breed Abominations, their Arabo_Muslim
Masters and their "Islamic Republic of Animals (Jomhuriye Heyvani),
....... long and long ago .......
Let me tell
you a story,
Aqa Nuri. They called him Aqa Nuri. Aqa (Mr.) Nuri was a labor,
he was working for Zobe Ahane Esfahan. The Iron Industry Factory
in middle of huge industrial city of Esfahan. He was visiting Tehran
for a vacation and he was staying at his relatives. We were standing
in a bread line, sangak bread it was! We wanted hot sangak bread,
perfect to wrap around Kabob Kubideh and Chenjeh, indeed we were
planing to have Kabob for dinner. So we had to wait in line, if
we wanted just regular Sangak, which was baked earlier, we could
just buy it then and there, but for getting a fresh out of the oven
one, we needed to wait in line. While waiting in line with others,
my friend, my cousin, and Keramat our Chauffeur who was basically
watching and driving us, shopping around town, also Ma'ruf our Chef
which my Grandmother practically stole him by offering higher wages
from Tehran's Hilton Hotel.
(Famous Famously) was his first and last name! Ma'ruf was an amazing
man and one of my childhood and early teen heroes! Ma'ruf was a
Kurdish Feudal's son (Senior's son) whom his brother took over all
the inheritance from their father and cheated him out of his inheritance!
Ma'ruf had to leave the comfortable life of Feudality (Arbab_Ra'yati)
and hit the streets of Kurdistan to do hard labor, eventually he
became a hard-core communist and a leftist Guerilla, a veteran commando.
Later when he calmed down a bit, he moved to Tehran. He moved from
Kurdistan to Tehran and became a famous chef! His life was a roller
coaster of ups and downs from a rich feudal kid to hard labor to
a Communist Independence seeking Guerilla to a professional chef!
What a character he was! Ma'ruf was practically insane and that's
why I loved the man! I love people on the edge of sanity! He had
no fear of anything, he was fearless, a different breed, an honest
man and a big flirt with women! Off and on he would end up in the
local jail for bothering young girls, starting street or cafe brawls
or causing commotions in the neighborhood! He was the true meaning
of the word TROUBLE! All the local constables (Paseban) knew him
well! Keramat (our chauffeur) was a conservative man but Ma'ruf
(our chef) was a national trouble maker who would have been spending
a long time in prison and many times over, if it was not for my
Grand Mother, getting his butt out of jail so many times! My grandmother
was a very powerful woman, check:
And then there
was Ezat (our butler) from city of Arak who was running the whole
house. A perfect butler gentleman, but not a British one, yet a
Persian version of it! Ezat was in charge of all the maids, servants,
house employees, shopping, household budget, payrolls, banquets,
organization and even my Grandmother's home clinic office (private
practice) where she was visiting her patients. Ezat was her right
hand, my Grandmother would have been lost without him! Ma'ruf was
a troublemaker Epicurean who lived for the day but Ezat was a Futurist
man with calculated plans! The funny thing is that Ezat (butler)
and Seyed Mamad (Mechanic), who both worshiped my mother for her
kindness and generosity, later on after the Islamic Revolution became
Heads of Imam Khomeini's Major Committees in Tehran and Arak! Seyed
Mamad, became Imam's personal bodyguard! Each of these guys had
a cattle of Pasdars (Revolutionary Guards) under their commands!
Now both of these guys were major factors amongst the crew of friends
who saved my mother's neck and even helped her to escape Iran, but
that's another story and for another time!
My Mother had
an important position with the Ministry of Health as one of her
jobs. She used to force Tehran's top surgeons, doctors and hospitals
to satisfy all the medical needs of all our servants and their families,
also many others amongst the common people, lower classes and even
Under Classes for free! My mother was very popular amongst the lower
classes of Tehran, they used to call her "The Working Class
Hero"! Once my Grandmother asked her: "You will finally
get all of us in trouble, why haven't you just stayed in Germany
after your graduation?" My Mom replied: "If I wanted the
comfortable careless life, I would have remained in Germany like
my brothers, but I came back like yourself, to make a change. You
made a difference in your youth, now it's my turn, let me do what
I came here to do!" My Grandmother laughed and said: "You
are as crazy as your sister!" What a family! My Aunt, was an
episode! She was a Flaming Hot Marxist who lived in Paris, we had
our differences but I loved my Aunt! It saddened me much when due
to a rare illness, she uncalledly passed away in her 40s! Such a
shame to die so early in life! May Marx rest her soul!
And then of
course I had my big shot Tudehi (Communist Party) uncle and then
my Jebhei (Liberal Democrat) uncle!
So I was just
a kid, situation in Tehran was much hairy with revolution lightning
up and all, I was not allowed to even go out of the house, but I
bribed and bugged Keramat to death to take me out, he would always
give up to my will, due to my nagging! This did not mean that I
did not sneak out of the house to participate with protests and
slanders and physical episodes which was going on between pro and
against Imperial Regime fans! I was even running the streets at
night and re phrase the so-called Islamic Revolutionary slogans
on the walls in a way of turning them to insults against Khomeini
and Muslim Revolutionaries! Me and the boys had our paint buckets
and brushes ready to roll into the streets at night! But the Shiite
hit the fan when one night our parents finally caught us shooting
pellet guns and rifles at our Haji Neighbor's house glasses across
the street! This guy had a topper part of his house walls made up
of glass and he was a Bazaari Merchant anti Shah activist and naturally
his glass walls were perfect targets for our shooting exercises!
This guy was throwing Rowzeh Khani and Majles-e Aza (Islamic Sing
Mourning Gatherings) and bring a Mullah to his house for preaching
to a mob, make them shed some alligator tears, and feed the whole
neighborhood with free food to brain wash them and add them to An-Qolabiyoun
(Fake Feces, term for so-called Islamic Revolutionaries)! Bazaari
bastards were supporting the Mullahs so in the future, they could
milk the cow and rule the economy by squeezing the blood out of
people's lives! Even during Shah's time, Bazaaris where doing Ehtekar
(storage the goods, rather than selling them, to raise the price
of goods and to make killer profits at the cost of people's inconvenience)!
I despised this
guy but I loved his daughters! Nothing like fresh Dokhtar Haji Bazaari!
daughters of Hajis (pilgrims), were always wearing Mini Skirts under
their Chador (Veil), and they were always the first amongst their
generation to lose their virginity! The things we would do to have
a peek, a pinch or a grab from those beefy white thighs, often revealed
from under the chadors! It was like these nymphs were flashing us
with their chadors on purpose! It was more of a turn on to peek
or grab the thighs of these couple of Chadori girls, than to view
hundreds of practically naked mini skirt/sexy top, gray uniform
wearing high school girls who would march through the alley on one
side of our house, going to their school (A Girls' High School was
at the end of the alley)! And why was that? The unknown mystery
underneath the chador was more tempting than dating a hundred westoxicated
gals in mini skirts! I was always curious about what's under the
chador?! We were some horny bastards who would often get slapped
So one night
they caught us with our pellet rifles and paint buckets and then
the Shiite hit the fan and they grounded us! I was cracking up and
our butler was inquiring on how come I am cracking up!? I told him,
it is funny that Mother Dear grounded us (My Friend, My Cousin and
I), cause before this grounding, we were not allowed to hit the
streets and we were already grounded! So what's the difference?
"There is no darker color than black" (Persian Expression)!
This made our butler (Ezat) to think a bit and later on he told
my mother that he does not believe the grounding would work with
the boys! tsk tsk tsk, I was a major troublemaker, even back then!
Back to the story we go.
So that day,
We were standing in line to pick up the bread and then we had to
go to Shah-reza Street, I remember him well, this is a memory which
stayed with me for rest of my life. I was just a kid. He was standing
next to me and Keramat, ahead of us were two EX heavy metal listeners
bache qerti and present Muslim revolutionary type, you know the
deal, the kind that goes with the wind, the members of the wind
party! So these kids switched to the fad of growing beard and mustache
and Islamic looking episodes, wearing their black shirts and pants,
they were mumbling something about the Labor Day and how the labor
should be thankful to Allah for Imam Khomeini to rescue them and
also for their daily bread! Aqa Nuri being a veteran labor of Zobe
Ahan, just had to jump in between their words with bare feet! Suddenly
he gave a "Parazit"! He said: "One should be thankful
for everything that he has, due to his arms!" They said: what
do you mean? Aqa Nuri said: "When thanking someone for your
daily bread, try thanking your strong arms for working hard and
providing that bread, stop thanking Allah, Khomeini, or anyone else
for your daily bread!"
Wow what words,
what words coming out of a man with probably very little or no academic
education, yet obviously plenty of street education! I was just
a kid, I do not remember many things from those days, yet I always
remember the highlights of my life back in Iran and one of them
was this episode in the Sangak Bread Line.
Later on that
day, I saw him again! Aqa Nuri was walking behind these couple of
bozos in the street. The Ex Hippie turned Islamist type, you know,
the type who goes by the fad of the day! Across the street, protests
started and a group of Islamists were raising their fists in the
air and shouting:
Marg bar Shah,
Marg bar Shah (Death to the Shah)
These two bozos,
got influenced by the crowd. Automatically as brain dead robots
they started to raise their fists and say "Death To The Shah",
first they started raising their fists in the air, next they started
accompanying the crowd, shouting:
Marg bar Shah,
Marg bar Shah (Death to the Shah)
Nuri, smacked them upside their heads. He slapped them so hard that
the sound of smack behind their necks filled the air! Aqa Nuri smacked
one of them in back of his neck and kicked the other one in the
butt! Suddenly both of these 70s Ex Hippies turned Muslim Revolutionaries
jumped forward, shocked and surprised, asked him: Hey Mister, why
do you hit us? Aqa Nouri replied: Death to your mothers and fathers,
you Mother Fragging sons of the male dogs (Pedar Sag-ha, Marg bar
Madar-e patiyaratun ke shomaha ro pas andakht)! Why do you say Death
to The Shah? What has Shah done to you? Do you have a better man
to replace him? The kids said: We just sympathize in solidarity
with the crowd (ma faqat dam gereftim ba jama'at)!! Aqa Nouri said:
Why don't you boys think first before opening your mouths to say
between them went something like this:
The Bozos: Marg bar Shah, Marg bar Shah (Death to the Shah)
Nuri: Marg bar pedar-e Jakeshet ke to ro pas andakht!
The Bozos: Eh, chera mizani?
Nuri: Akhe dayus, Shah be to chikar karde ke be un fohsh midi?
The Bozos: Khob tahte ta'sir qarar gereftim. Tazahorat-e dige! Ma ham shoru'
kardim dam begirim.
Nuri: Shoma be kos-e nanat khandidi taht-e ta'sir qarar
gerefti! Shoma goh khordi dam begiri!
The Bozos: Eh, chera fohsh midi Haji?
Nuri: Shoma be qabr-e pedar-e jakeshet khandidi shoar
midi! Jakesh-ha, Shah be shoma chikar karde?
The Bozos: Vallah nemidunim, migan tab'iz qa'el shode, estesmar karde, nokar-e
Amrikast, jenayat karde.
Nuri: Jakesh pedar, bad karde tahsil-e dabirestani-ye
majani baratun faraham karde? Bad karde daneshgah mifrestadetun?
Bad karde khabgah-haye majaniye daneshgahi behetun mideh?
The Bozos: Khob baba hala ma ham ye Marg bar Shah goftim, chi mishe?
Nuri: Shoma qalat kardin, shoma be kun-e anabitun khandidin! Jakesh, Shah
be shoma chikar karde ke margesho mikhayn? Marg bar babaye kos keshset!
Bache nunet kame? Abet kame? Babat bikare? Goshnei? Teshnei? Shah
chikaret karde? Dayus chikaret karde ke barash marg mikhay?
The Bozos: Ey baba, hala ma ye chizi goftim!
Nuri: Khob dayus hamin juri shoru' mishe. Hey shoar midin,
shoar midin, mosht gere mikonin, yavash yavash shuresh mishe, qiyam
mishe, e'tesab o tazahorat mishe, ba'desh ham dabestan o daneshgah
basteh mishe, ba'desh ham madare khodetun gayideh mishe! Ba'desh
ham kharetun gayideh mishe vo az kar o zendegi miyoftin! Ba'd migin
ajab gohi khordim! Baba ye kam fekr konin qabl az in ke in mosht-hatun
ro gereh konin, ye kam fekr konin! Mageh shomaha maqz-e khar khordin?
The Bozos: Bashe baba, velemun kon, bezar nunemon o bekharim, das az sare kachalemun
Nuri: Baba jun, vase khodetun migam. Adam shin, vagarna khare khodetun
gayideh mishe! Az ma ke gozasht, fekr-e khodetun bashin. Boro baba
jun tahsileto bekon. Boro shoar nadeh. Ya Allah baba jun.
I never forget
this conversation! You see, Monkey see, monkey do and then we had
a full blown An-Qollab (Islamic Reaction) of 1979. Now I don't know
what has happened to those two bozos, but similar folks were the
fathers of 1979 who fragged a generation, who fragged their children's
lives, who fragged Iran for 28 years and ongoing! This is called:
Monkey Do Syndrome and it is a part of the Iranian Disease!
And it is still
going on, even right here in America. Go check out Iranians throwing
Sofreh Hazrat-e Abbas, Rowzeh Khani, Sofreh Hazrat-e Abolfazl, Sofreh
Hazrat-e Abol Sag, Ta'ziyeh, Eyd-e Fetr o Eyd-e Qorban. Then Namaz-e
Jama'at in Mosque and Darvish gatherings in Khaneqah!
Khar hamun khar-e, faqat palanesh avaz shodeh! Hala Engelisi sohbat
During our short
episode with Aqa Nuri, I have found out that he was a leftist; yet,
he hated the type of people who would run their mouths for no reason
except ignorance, either in agreement or disagreement with the regime,
and just to follow the crowd! This whole episode plus the earlier
episode stayed in my mind forever!
Aqa Nuri basically
hated all types of blind followers! Aqa Nuri did not know how much
he had effected my thought patterns in those early ages! When we
got back from shopping, I started telling the same things back to
our maid, Jamile Yazdi (from city of Yazd), Jamile responded: "A
red tong will get your green head to be cut off by the Guillotine,
if not being careful" (Zabane sorkh, sare sabz dahad bar bad!).
I did not stop and I mentioned this at the dinner table in front
of my Grand mother and all her Guests in a formal party! My Grand
Mother being a politically correct woman, and considering the sensitivity
of the situation at those days, told the guests: "You see this
kid's head smells like Qorme Sabzi (a Persian dish), even at this
age! [Kaleye in bache buye qorme sabzi mideh, unam az hala!] What
she meant by stating that Persian expression was that: This kid
is looking for trouble, even at such young age!
Days had passed
by and things changed, years gone by, one day at an opposition conference
back in old college days at Philly, when I was just a Political
Rooster (young naive activist), and a Juje Siyasatmadar or as they
called the new youth who just came from Iran and fresh out of Iran
and into college, "Tudeye Javan" (young Masses), oh well
just sitting and talking politics with other youth. I was listening
to a guy from Muslim Student Association, who later on, I found
out that he was the leader of Muslim Students, he was going on and
on about the great Iranian revolution and Imam Khomeini and bla
bla bla. Me being a little political Rooster back then, was just
listening to them debating, some communists, some Muslims, and some
Republicans. They were ready to eat the cafeteria food, how gross
that was, is another story! So before eating, the Muslims including
their leader, started reading their prayers to Allah, me being a
new comer and one of the new masses, at this point sitting all the
way at the bottom of the long table made out of three cafeteria
tables put together, just had to open my mouth, cause I suddenly
remembered Aqa Nuri!
I said: "
When eating food, before starting to eat, one should not start praying
to Allah or God or Khomeini, but he should pray to his strong arms
which worked and prepared this food for him!" Damn, I was on
the roll, I kept on going ...... "and one should pray to have
two healthy arms so he can work and make money to buy food for himself
and his family, what good is it praying to some supernatural myth
or some holy man?" ....... I kept on and on! They listened
and then the leader of Muslim students asked his sidekick: Who is
this Freshman kid? The sidekick answered slowly: The new kid, they
say he is trouble, don't bother with him, he is just an ignorant
kid. The leader said: OK but keep an eye on him! And obviously they
kept on keeping an eye on me!
Times went by
and during many occasions I remembered to mention this great quote
and I always mentioned his name, an unknown man, an unknown worker
of Iron Factory from city of Esfahan "Aqa Nuri" !
No one knew
him, nobody still knows him, nobody has heard of him, he was just
a simple labor, a simple low educated labor. But this low educated
labor knew much more than many doctors and professors which I ever
met in my life time. This low educated simple labor taught me much
more than many doctors and professors, just by those few minutes
of standing in the bread line!
His name was
Mr. Nuri, Aqa Nuri! A simple labor of Zobe Ahan-e Esfahan Factory,
an Iron worker, an older man with hands all roughed up during a
lifetime of hard work. His clothes were not expensive but very organized
and clean. He was a clean-cut man. I specifically remember his shapo
Classic hat (Felt Dress Hat), like 40's style hats that they used
to wear in black and white movies, like Humphrey Bogart's Hat, ye
like Bogie's hat, his old hat, his old vest and his old overcoat.
Obviously a man who had much of the street knowledge to self educate
himself about the very basic philosophical question of life, the
meaning of life, the very basic question of creation. The man already
knew the answer to that question way back then, while many professors
are still searching for that same answer now! Aqa Nuri made more
sense than many of the Cattle-like professors of mine with reptilian,
one track minds! Reptilian Brain, only knows flex-reflex and action-reaction!
Reptilian brain does not have the mid brain, frontal lobe and the
complexed curves of the human gray-matter! Reptilian Brain is only
a pin-point! Yes, Aqa Nuri knew much more than many of these Reptile
Professors in Universities!
Aqa Nuri, an
industrial iron labor from industrial city of Esfahan with his hat.
Aqa Nuri, a simple man waiting in a bread line during times of crises
which would later on bring chaos to my nation. Aqa Nuri a simple
labor who never knew and will never know that what kind of impact
he made on me! An impact which made me think in those tender early
ages of youth and again made me think in later days of youth, and
eventually through Manhood! Aqa Nuri, just an older gentleman I
met in a sangak bread line! Aqa Nuri, a common working man!
and cherish our Labors on this holy day on this International Day
of Labor. Let's celebrate Labor Day, September 5th or May 1st, depending
on where you are. Let's remember all the hard working labors, the
unknown, the ones that are forgotten, the ones that you do not assume
that they know much about anything, the ones that run the production
lines, the ones that some of them surprise you with their wisdom.
The oppressed labor of Iran who works and eats their bread, made
from their hard working Arms, the fruits of their labor indeed.
The Iranian labors who stand solid against this inhuman murdering
Theocratical Religious Dictatorship. The Iranian Labor who will
hand in hand stand by our opposition to build the future democratic
and a free Iran, a Mullah free Iran.
Aqa Nuri, where
ever you are, my hat is off to you, I salute you ......
A lover of Iran,
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