Errant Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Errant

Coming down in the box of
-elevator or lift or ascenseur;
-that takes us, brings down
-of buildings in the towns,
-saw a shy little boy.

Was a fourth of father;
-seemed aloof, clever
-his eyes ran everywhere.
-Looked around secretly
-in a way, patiently
-as do the chameleons!

His father deep in thought
-child, subject for my eyes.

I shrunk in age, size
-to first day in Tehran.

Dad, to me, three times
-I was a chubby child
-and acted as trained
-said to all: "Al Salam! "
- (In the way of Feshark!)

I did not know Tehran
- (The Iran's Capital.)
-People were many and
-of varied backgrounds.
- (Even Dad knew not!)

From long before then
-I thought of the people,
- (family, aunt, or uncle.)
-Imagined everyone
-in a way camouflaged
-to play game of change
-as had seen in local theatre.

Actor hid the face by a mask
- "Shabih and Taazieh" were prank…

I thought they meant to
-help, the kids to realize
-which aunt or which uncle!

My childhood in village
-with mother ‘a thinker,
-and great narrator'
-lifted me to skies, an eagle!

There, played with God and
-demanded that angels…

Suddenly in Tehran,
-a comment changed my life.

Dad whispered and told me:
- "Different is here, no need to
-Salam to, each, every passerby."

Though still in my heart
-people are life blood
-as cousins, siblings,
-as close relatives,
-as aunts and grannies…
-My world is no more what
-can be in this child's eyes.

I see you walk left, right
-for living reside, fight
-on floors below, up,
-or shanty or Penthouse,
-or in the deserts or, on waters…

I feel joys, pleasure
I see pains, bloodshed
I see the drones fall
I see killed by bullets
I see forced to dress…

I see fox, vampire hand in hand
-with vultures; so, obliged I am to,
-fight for social justice.