Path and Accomplishment (Experiences from a Life) Mohammad Kianoush-Rad – Part Twelve

The Path and Its Rewards
A Chronicle of Experiences from a Life
Mohammad Kianoush-Rad
Part Twelve

Don't Say It's Natural
Rise Up

At the end of 1957, the people of the Iranian-American Association occupied Bagh Moin. Everyone took something. No one was listening to anyone. It was not clear what was going on. The association was looted and the People's Mujahideen settled there. After the revolution, another group stormed the building and took it from the hands of the Mujahideen and handed it over to the public relations of the Revolutionary Guards.

Mohammad, Ali Jamalpour's brother, in the public relations of the IRGC, with a group of children, the show "Pool" - written by "M. A. They recited and practiced Fajr. I also had a minor role in that show. Ali Jamalpour and Hossein Alam Elhadi also visited us many times. Sadegh Ahangaran also came and during his breaks, he sang the so-called "Marzaei" Dezfuli songs. Sadiq was not praised yet. The bridge show was performed in the municipal hall for 10 days and was very well received.

Before the revolution, the municipal hall was the place of intellectual shows. I saw the performance of "The Exception and the Rule" and "Prometheus in Chains" by Bertolt Brecht in the City Hall. A large number of students who were intellectuals of that time were present. My feeling was this: for them, the show was not entertainment, drinking coffee and cigarettes, and romantic dates. The show was a manifestation of understanding, awareness and commitment.

"The exception and the rule" in 1956 left a lasting impression on my mind forever.
"Brecht" says in the beginning: "I beg you not to say that it is normal in the face of everyday events." That night I learned from Brecht, the exception should not be sacrificed for the rule.

Brecht taught me to free myself from stereotyped judgments and conventional pre-made rules.

The rule, the rule, the rule and the eternal death of exceptions is the blindness of human history. Basically, what loves died, what lives were sacrificed, what lives were destroyed. Finally, "the one who said yes and the one who said no" is in front of us.

I liked Brecht's writing and style. Even the theater we performed at home with Farhad was in the style of Brecht's writings. We took the idea of ​​our home show from the title of the show "Dictation and Angle" by Gholamhossein Saedi, but our writing was not a copy of it. According to Farhad, it was "dramaturgy". We wrote the dialogues, situation and characters of the story ourselves.

In 1956, the religious students of Jundishapur University of Ahvaz invited Allameh Jafari to give a speech. The lecture was held at the Faculty of Science. After that, Jafari also spoke at the middle school in Amaniyeh.

I went to Daneshsara to see Allameh and listen to his words. Mehin Rad, the favorite professor of the religious students, was sitting in the first row. The lecture hall was full and there was no place to sit. I went to the end of the hall.
Allameh used to say about Masnavi. It was unprecedented to welcome a cleric at that time. Jafari was delighted by the fascination of the students. He had come to Sama on his chair. He turns his turban left and right with his hand. He spoke Farsi with a sweet Azari accent. It was warm to speak. The people were breathless and were absorbed in looking at Allameh. Jafari explained the story of the snake crawling in the mouth of the sleeping man and the difference between acting and watching. A new word and another lasting experience came to me after Bresht.

Allameh suddenly stopped talking. Facing the crowd, he raised his hands several times. The students from the bottom of the hall, by lowering their hands, wanted to tell Allameh to speak a little more simply. He paused. He raised his hands and said: Don't ask me to come down, you come up.

We went with Mehdi to write slogans. When we finished our work, we went to their house. The house had two doors, one on Mazdisnan Street - today's Mohedin Street - and the other on Aban Street. We entered from Mazdasinan Street. Farhad was waiting for us in Mahdi's small room which was attached to the door of Aban street.

Mehdi's family had gone on a trip. As soon as we entered the house from the south door on Mazdasinan street, Mahdi had an evil thought and said: "We are tired. Let's laugh a little." I said: "Great". Mahdi said: "So don't laugh and be serious." He picked up his handheld speaker and pointed it at Farhad, who was sitting on the other side of the house, in Mehdi's room. Then he changed his voice and said, “This house is under siege. "Whoever is in the house, come out immediately." And immediately we went out of the south door.

As always, Farhad was engrossed in reading books. When we reached the door of Aban street, Mehdi said: "Hook your hand". I hooked went up He leaned his hand on the wall and went to the door. "For the last time," he said in a louder voice, "everybody in the house, put their hands on their heads and come out. This is the last warning."

came down We lost a bit, but we caught ourselves. Mehdi put the key and opened the door and we entered. We could not stop laughing. Farhad Hodge was standing horrified. His hand was shaking. His face was as white as chalk. He was angry. He turned his face away from us angrily. He looked at us with a frown. He understood the story. He was getting angrier every moment. He did not know what to say in front of this joke. He was not a cursing person either, otherwise it was not known what he would say.

God knows what happened to Farhad. If anyone else were in Farhad's place, he would definitely be more angry and aggressive.

Finally, when Farhad calmed down a little, he said: "I'm confused. I didn't know what to do. "If you continued, I would have had a stroke." We joked and laughed and he got angrier. He finally calmed down. Mehdi made coffee for us. I said: "Excuse me, this was Mahdi's program." We tried not to laugh so that he would forget about this vandalism, but every time we couldn't help it