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Labor Day and Aqa Nuri
Ahreeman X
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.

The International 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,

I remember 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.

Ma'ruf-e Ma'rufi (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:

DeChadorization Day

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! The pious
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 by girls!

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)

Suddenly Aqa 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 something?!

The conversation between them went something like this:

The Bozos: Marg bar Shah, Marg bar Shah (Death to the Shah)

Aqa Nuri: Marg bar pedar-e Jakeshet ke to ro pas andakht!

The Bozos: Eh, chera mizani?

Aqa 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.

Aqa 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?

Aqa 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.

Aqa 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?

Aqa 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!

Aqa 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 vardar!

Aqa 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 See, 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!

Nothing changed! Khar hamun khar-e, faqat palanesh avaz shodeh! Hala Engelisi sohbat mikoneh!

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!

Let's remember 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,

Dr. X

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