The H Bomb

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Jahanshah Javid
by Jahanshah Javid
20-Oct-2009
 

Right here in Berkeley, ten minutes up the street where I used to live for many years, there's a little bakery. It's run by a dutch man who's married to my first girlfriend.

I went inside once out of curiosity but did not see him. He must be a good man.

***

Abadan on a Thursday night, summer of 1975. Bashgah Golestan's main hall was packed with teenage boys and girls mingling in the dark. A high school band was playing live pop music. I stood in a corner watching. I was not a great dancer and never had the courage to approach girls, not even those I had known and liked, from a safe distance, since kindergarten. Something had happened that summer. All the girls in my age group (13, 14) suddenly looked like giants. In a matter of months they had grown much taller and developed distinctive curves. I looked like their shy little brother. I had seen some of them disappearing to far corners of the club, behind a stage wall, or a thick palm tree in the garden, talking hand in hand with bigger boys. I was so jealous. When was it going to be my turn to have a girlfriend?

Then I saw H standing there on the dance floor, clapping her hands and moving her hips. She had a bubbly personality, gorgeous smile, big penetrating eyes, cute face, tight jeans. Where did this knockout come from? I had never seen her at Golestan before. Her family lived near the neighboring port of Khorramshahr and she had only recently enrolled as a student in the oil company school system in Abadan. She was a year younger than me.

At that moment I didn't feel so shy. I wanted her. I walked up and asked her for a dance. She cheerfully accepted. We danced and danced not just to fast songs, but slow ones too, with my hands around her back. It was nice. Real nice.

We went outside to get some air and ended up on the club's basketball court. I can still see her jumping up in the air and throwing the ball with a loud scream and laughing on the way down.

From that night on, she was all I could think about. I longed for her. I had to see her at every opportunity, which was not often. She was always on guard not to be seen with me when her strict parents or older sister were around. I didn't care. Just seeing her meant everything to me, especially at the swimming pool. Those legs drove me nuts!

Segoosh pool was several kilometers form our home. I usually took a taxi there or rode my bike. One particular day I had no pocket money and my bike must have had a flat tire. I remember walking more than an hour in the blistering heat wearing a thick bathrobe, swim shorts and slippers on the streets of Abadan to get to the pool. I tell you it was worth every blister. H would swim the width of the pool and I from the opposite direction. There were hardly any words spoken. Only playful glances.

At nights I would listen to love songs dedicated by listeners on Radio Kuwait and squeeze my pillow thinking of H. I thought wouldn't it be cool if they read my dedication. I sent a letter with my request and waited. I listened night after night to the announcer reading his list of dedications in English with a mellow Arabic accent. I had my thumb on the record button of the cassette player, ready to hear my name. Finally one night I heard it. "...and from Abadan, Jahanshah dedicates Hot Chocolate's 'I Believe in Miracles' with all his heart to H... " I couldn't believe it. I was so excited. I made a copy of the tape and gave it to H. Pretty damn impressive for a 13-year-old.

At the end of the school year, around June 1976, my father walked into my room and gave me the news: "You are going to boarding school in California." My reaction was mixed. On the one hand I did not need to re-take exams for four subjects I had failed in my 9th grade finals. Which was fabulous. On the other hand I was going to be away from H. Which was too painful to even think about. I wanted to get her something special to remember me by.

My weekly allowance was 30 tomans (at the time about $4). That was a lot of money for a kid of my age. Yet I never saved a single rial. I would quickly spend it all on candy, burgers, chips and tennis balls. But for several weeks before leaving for America, I miraculously managed to save a hundred tomans ($14 or so). I took the money and went to a jeweler's store in downtown Abadan. I looked at the rings and picked one that was just perfect. It was gold with letters LOVE in red, blue, green and I think yellow.

I told H to meet me in the back of the school one day for just a minute. And I gave her the ring.

We stayed in touch through letters and cassette recordings. But after a year my life changed dramatically. My father passed away, our family moved to Hawaii, and Iran went through a revolution. So did I. So did H.

Here's for the joy she brought to my life:

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more from Jahanshah Javid
 
IRANdokht

Ali P.

by IRANdokht on

I didn't know you were waiting for me to answer here since I don't have anything to contribute to the discussion about love stories and I am not a writer to comment on the upcoming writing challenges either. There are plenty of talented writers here.

In any case, apology accepted but such public scene was not necessary.

Thanks

IRANdokht

PS: try to have some fun on your vacation baba! why are you even on the computer!?


Ali P.

Public Apology

by Ali P. on

I only joke with people I like.

But sometimes, I am the only one who thinks the joke was funny.

I used a line from Seinfeld, a few comments below

( //www.seinfeldscripts.com/TheSeven.html )

and thought my dear Friend IRANdokht, would not mind it, being used on her.

 

I have not heard from her, so I am starting to believe, yet again, I went overboard.

So I am going to abstain from engaging in this site for 24 hours ( cyber roozeh, if you will), and gather my thoughts (if any!).

My most humble apologies to our dear IRANdokht, and hope she´ll forgive this simple-minded fellow-Iranian.comer.

Love,

Ali P.


Monda

some of us did have romantic experiences with "Real" boys

by Monda on

that's right!... for example in 7th grade there was a boy in our neighborhood in Tehran who rang our bell every day for a while... too bad he always ran away! one summer night when I was riding my bike with my neighbor girlfriends, he caught up with me on his bike to tell me he was in love with me for a long time... and he wished I would open our door for him at least one of the times he rang our bell :o)  

He was so cute! His name was Ahmad. 


Nazy Kaviani

Let's roll!

by Nazy Kaviani on

O.K. Here we go! I can't wait to read Ali P. and Sima's pieces first!

//iranian.com/main/blog/nazy-kaviani/writ...


sima

I'm way ahead of you all!

by sima on

I already wrote my blog. And no, Ali P, it is not at all graphic. Au contraire. You'll see...

Nazi joon, start one on teenage love! I mean, I would go ahead and publish my blog except that if it's not openly marked in that category none of you will probably read it. Or at least other people won't know the context.


Esther

Ali P., Sima, Nazy & JJ

by Esther on

Ali P., I like it!  Sima, real or fantasy, I will read it (love does better with a healthy dose of fantasy anyway).  Nazy, I don't think we need judges/prizes - we just need some way to coordinate (for example, everyone posting their stories as comments to a single blog will get really hard to handle really fast).  Maybe everyone could post links to their stories in a single blog?  Or everyone could post with the same title?

Speaking of titles, "Wild at Heart" just confirms my suggestion for JJ's English book title.  First Abadan, then the mermaid with the long brown hair:

"We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown."


Ali P.

Wrapping it up

by Ali P. on

Sima: Writing your fantasy about a guy named Jahanshah? Would it be graphic? I am not sure if I would want to read that ( but I am sure JJ would like to get a copy of that ;-)

captain: "I do not mean to harp at you.." is usually followed by harping! :-)  ...and there was none. Anyway I was merely suggesting a new blog on IC. The feeling is mutual dear friend.

Nazy jaan: Khasteh nabaashee. Khodaa ghovvat :-)

Some of us have finally come of age and khejaalatemoon reekhteh, and we are ready to share our stories, since the last year s blog. Who knows maybe some of us have had recent developments in our love/lust lives, and we would like to excibit them.

BTW this is my last comment here on JJs blog. JJ jaan sorry for barging in.

IRANdokht...kojaa ghaayem shodee?


No Comment

: )

by No Comment on

I’m so jealous of how well you write. I think you should write my personal statement  :)


Nazy Kaviani

Ali P.

by Nazy Kaviani on

Thank you for your good wishes!;)

We have had several waves of personal love stories, many of them about first loves or teenage loves, over the past year. One set was triggered by another blog Jahanshah wrote last year.

Another set were written through a recent invitation I sent to people to write about love.  Many people participated in that series.

Writing contests are hard to run and to manage. For one thing many people feel inhibited when they think they are being "judged" and this reduces participation. For another, you will need "judges," people who are writers themselves and who know how to evaluate good writing; they will also have to commit their time to doing this. Last but not least, a contest will need a prize. Funding for a worthy prize is always a problem.

I'll have to think about how to do another series around "teenage love stories."  For now I have another idea which I will be coming around with soon.  I will be sure to call on you to be one of the first participants!


yolanda

......

by yolanda on

Captain,

     I agree with you 100%. I like the variety: hard news, soft news, sports news, video, pictures, poems, posts from readers, attacks, counter-attacks, compliments, English, Farsi, etc..... If IC had only one genre, it would be boring!


Souri

Nice story dear JJ

by Souri on

خوشبختي ما در سه جمله است:

 

 تجربه از ديروز، استفاده از امروز، اميد به فردا...

ولي ما با سه جمله ديگر زندگي مان را تباه مي کنيم!

حسرت ديروز، اتلاف امروز، ترس از فردا 

دكتر علی شریعتی

 

 


yolanda

...

by yolanda on

Sima,

LOL!!!!


capt_ayhab

Mr. Ali P.

by capt_ayhab on

I do not mean to harp at you, since I value your opinions, even though I might not agree with all of them.

With that said, one thing that I personally like about this site is its variety. A love story here and there, a moshaereh, a joke and a thread or two about food and music breaks the stress of reading and commenting on highly charged political threads.

Respectfully

 

-YT 


sima

Ali P, great idea!

by sima on

But I suggest that we include our fantasies as well. I mean, many of us had developed fantasy lives but no real experiences! I had an ongoing fantasy about a guy I named Jahanshah -- I swear it's true. Can I write about him?

JJ, you're so cute!


Ali P.

IC Weekend Love Festival

by Ali P. on

Fine.

They say if you can't beat them, join them.

How about a new blog?

Best damn teenage love story wins!

(Ammo kick y'all's butt!)

LOL...

Contestants could brainstorm until Friday, and kick things off on Saturday.

Now, who could be the moderator?

Hmmm..JJ is too soft when it comes to love. Nazi,who is usually the first in this kind of blogs, is nowhere to be found. I wonder if, ironically, she is in the middle of creating a story of her own ;-)

 

It would have to be someone who hasn't heard the stories

before. Someone who is not too familiar with the subject.

Someone who is unencumbered by any emotional attachment. Someone
whose heart is so dark, it cannot be swayed by pity, compassion, or human emotion
of any kind.

 

 

IRANdokht, what are you doing this weekend? ;-) 


Anonymouse

JJ described himself. Besides compared to Math and Sciences

by Anonymouse on

Keeping up i.com does not require much education.  Now as a background, In Iran we have 3 areas of study when we enter 9th grade or high school.  You have to choose to study Mathematics, Biology or Literature.

So if you want to become an Engineer you go in Math, Doctors go to Biology and Writers and Teachers would go for Literature.  Literature was the "easiest".  Not that there is anything wrong with it! 

In Iran no matter which area you choose there are 13 - 14 subjects that you take each year.  Like Physics, Chemistry, Math, etc.  Unlike American schools where you have 4 or 5 subjects total.  Now some of those subjects you automatically pass, like conduct.  I have a feeling the 4 subjects that JJ failed were the major subjects like Physics, Chemistry, Math and he has to name the 4th subject! 

Everything is sacred.


yolanda

......

by yolanda on

Hi! Anonymouse,

        If JJ was as bad as you described, how could he come up with IC, his brainchild?   IC has more visitors than the San Francisco Modern Art Museum!! O:)

thanks,

 


Anonymouse

I wonder how many subjects he failed in 8th grade!

by Anonymouse on

Everything is sacred.


yolanda

....  

by yolanda on

 Anonymouse,

      Your post cracked me up! I really can't think of anything else, that made him fail 4 subjects at school!! O:)


Anonymouse

Yolanda I don't think JJJ failed 4 subjects because of love! ;-)

by Anonymouse on

Everything is sacred.


yolanda

....

by yolanda on

Thank you for this non-fiction love story. This morning when I saw the title, I thought it is about nuclear weapon or something.....I was afraid that I may not have enough knowledge to understand the story, so I did not read it until after work....wow, this story has way more details than your love adventure with the kindergarten teacher  ......you must have photographic memory to remember all the frame-by-frame details.....it is just amazing!......It makes perfect sense that you failed 4 subjects in your 9th grade finals 'cause you put your heart and soul into this relationship, education was just secondary O:)....!

    Thank you for this fun story!!!!

P.S. I visited Wilson High School 4 months ago, it is great school, looks very classical.


Darius Kadivar

And How I learned to love that Bomb ... ;0)))

by Darius Kadivar on


Niki Tehranchi

That was so sweet Jahanshah!

by Niki Tehranchi on

You are blogging more often and with more personal stories.  My favorite :-)  Thank you for sharing with us...


Anahid Hojjati

how about "Lasting Loves" for English and "Eshghhaye Javid" for

by Anahid Hojjati on

How about if title of the book about Jahanshah's loves in English is "Lasting Loves" and in Farsi, "Eshghhaye Javid"?


Khar

"The Love Song of J. Javid"

by Khar on

Esther I found the soundtrack, :o)

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLoOXWn-EJo


Esther

No, no ...

by Esther on

I want to read JJ's post-revolutionary love stories, too!  I propose "The Love Song of J. Javid" (soundtracks optional ;) as English title.  I was trying to think of a Persian title, but I don't speak Persian, so all I could come up with was "Ishqnameh" ... .


Khar

I can see the book at Barnes and Noble.....

by Khar on

"My Pre-Revolutionary Love Memories" By: J. Javid, aka LoverBoy :o)


IRANdokht

Ali P.

by IRANdokht on

We're counting on YOU to do the fighting!

ozreh maa movajah-e  ;-)

IRANdokht


Esther

Forget the IAEA ...

by Esther on

Let any country have any bomb if (and only if), like JJ's, it is used to make LOVE, not war!  Then again, if we consider another H (of T), we may recall that a beautiful woman can be just as dangerous ... .  Don't worry, Ali P., the lovers may overthrow the IRI yet (I will leave the N bomb for another thread).  JJ, sorry for politicizing, and thank you for another lovely love story. :)


capt_ayhab

Agree with ID

by capt_ayhab on

You are such an asheg peesheh dude.

Best GIFT ever to be able to love.

-YT