In Love, We Live. In Birth, We celebrate/Mansoureh Shojaee
Thursday 30 December 2010, by
Feminist School:It has been years since we have not come together except to commemorate of the anniversaries of the loss of our loved ones. Year after year we have come together on November in the memory of one, August for another, February and June and July for others, etc. We do not know why we have forgotten to remember the celebration of the happy birthdays. Alas! These are hard times... we are death-ridden!
Up to a couple of years ago on Febrauary 13th we used to go to the Zahiroldolehâ€™s cemetery to mourn the day that a little body containing a great heart was buried in that soil. We would hold each other, light a candle, recite a poem and wipe our tears before setting forth to visit a sister who is no left without any sister. That was a ritual we held dear for our Forough, from whose grave we are still waiting for a flower to grow, a flower like herselfâ€¦ we are still waiting.
Now, even that little is denied us. We have not seen the cemetery for the last couple of years. If the flower we were waiting for had grown there, we would not know; we wish those who can visit it would bring us the happy news one day.
In the midst of bitterness, when death has become a sacred icon, the happy voice of Noushin Ahmadi, calling for a note on the occasion of Foroughâ€™s birthday, came as an good omen. It sounded like a birth, a new birth and hope. She said in bitter times it is better to talk of something sweet; it is better to celebrate birth in the midst of death, grief, pain and heavy sentences of imprisonment and executions; it is even better if it is due to the occasion of the birth of a woman who died an untimely death just in peak of her blooming; and it is even the best for someone whose bold poetry, songs of love and life, and voice of passion and sedition, has left us in an eternal revolt.
Yes we should celebrate. I found some pieces to put together for our feast. A poem from Seyyed Ali Salehi in commemoration of her anniversary, recited by himself with that awesome voice. He sent it to me two years ago with a note; â€œA green leafâ€¦.â€ But, truly it is a treasured gift. (Seyyed! May your pen be blessed!)
In another place I found a piece written by Pouran Faroukhzad. She wrote on it: â€œIt is for Forough, but is in Mansourehâ€™s trust.â€
In some other corner I found the shiny star I was looking for: a poem by Simin for Forough, dazzling as ever.
And finally our young friend and colleague, Azadeh Davachi, who adorns the pages of our literature for the Campaign for Equality with her so well composed poetry and writings, was ready to help as always.
Thanks Heaven that our treasure box was not empty and with the help and kindness of our friends it would never remain empty even when we are surrounded by death, and misfortune hovers over our heads.
When one thinks of the birth and growth and turns away from despair and desolation, one can always breath in the treasure box of literature and culture to find new hope and new life. In our give and take of knowledge and self-awareness in the Feminist School, we all learned how to celebrate a new birth in the midst of pain, grief, and death â€¦ We do not know if we are going to exist or not, charged with what crime or not, on February 13th, the anniversary of Foroughâ€™s death. Letâ€™s just celebrate a new birth on her birthday.
Source in Persian:http://www.iranianfeminschool.info/spip.php?article6520
Translated by :Mina Siegel