Ms. Shirazi was my middle school PE teacher, a quiet, well-spoken and always smiling lady who, although she was a PE teacher, we never saw her run, jump or play,,,,
In those years, he was considered one of our intellectual teachers, who grew his nails, wore beautiful coats under his tent, and put on a little makeup. He had very beautiful sunken eyes and was popular with children in every way. One day he came to our class, after two weeks of absence for which we did not know the reason, his eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids were swollen, he did not write on the board as usual, he said to all the children, you are free to go to the yard. Play, but he sat in the class. We could see that he was very sad, we knew that no one died, but we didn’t know what happened to him, we all went out, he sat alone in the classroom which was on the second floor, he sat behind the window and watched us. A few of us couldn’t bear it, so we went back to the classroom and silently sat behind our benches, she was crying, she didn’t look at us at all. Someone went and brought him a glass of water, he just noticed us, he drank the water and said without preamble, you know what happened, we said no ma’am, why are you so upset, he said that when the war broke out, one of our relatives came to propose to me and We had agreed and we had eaten sweets, a month later he went to the front and was captured without even once coming on leave. During his almost 9 years of captivity, we did not know anything about him, we only knew that he was captured. I didn’t think about marriage then, I was 27 years old, now I am 37 years old. Many people came and said that it is not known when this war will end, it is not known if he will come back alive, get married, live his life, I didn’t accept, I didn’t want to, I said I have a commitment, if he comes back, I won’t stay to see what happens? He came back last year, I will cry from happiness for several months. I did, after a few months everyone’s excitement subsided, I was waiting for his family to come sooner, talk and we would go on with our lives sooner, but they didn’t come, my mother said that now maybe they are waiting for him to start a job and prepare for life, then come and talk, but The longer we waited, the less we heard from them. My father said that your mother should call and tell us what is our duty, but my mother said that it is ugly, don’t they know that they are engaged, she never called or sent a message, 3 weeks ago. Through our mutual acquaintance, we found out that they got married, had a simple party and went to their home. Mrs. Shirazi explained all this with unceasing tears and we cried along with her, without saying a word. The war did not have only martyrs and veterans, Ms. Shirazi was a silent victim of the war who, instead of hugging her children at the age of 37, was sitting on the second floor of Kausar middle school and talking and crying to some unknown teenagers. 13 years later, when he was 50 years old, I saw him again, we had a good time, he had retired, his mother and father had died, and he lived alone in his father’s house.
For me, Mrs. Shirazi is a symbol of pain that one does not know who to tell it to and where she took her grief, she was a living martyr with slightly sunken, wrinkled and very beautiful eyes.
#Anonymous
@zaneh_emroozi
This post is written by Sara_b_h