Fate without end

Nothing happened. I ended up in prison. The creditors kicked the door.

It's strange.

Who would have thought that Mr. Torkashvand, the leading actor in the city's theaters, would now be in prison. Because of a debt I didn't pay. Those same debts will bury me.

Maybe if I had worked hard like Mr. Piranfar, I would have gotten somewhere. Like him, I would have seen the actors from above. Without knowing anything about theater. No, I would have followed the theater like a little child. What should I do with a bowl? What should I do with loans and installments?

Anyway, this is not a bad place.

At least they serve food on time. Although it's not a sirkan. Let's pray that Tuesday doesn't come. Parviz, the food manager, sets the soup bar. He gives me water. Sock soup is famous in prison. The taste of water and socks. It's a prison. It's not a wedding. I don't expect more from prison.

Most of the time is spent in the prison library. Sometimes I borrow a playbook. I put it under the bed. Only the bookshelf doesn't fit here. The prisoners don't have proper education.

Maybe the prison hell is better than the hell outside. The world tortures our souls. There's no difference between here and outside. It's a prison cell. I'm fine here. I'm still here. Row and facing.

The first bed is Sadri. The kids call him Uncle Sadri. Glasses like a glass. He's a writer. He has a pen in his hand. He wrote a political book. That's why they brought him here. He doesn't talk about the content.

The next bed is Anoushirvan. The kids call him Anoush. He's tall. He has a black mustache. He's got double the discipline on his face.

No one knows what Anoush's crime is. Everyone says something different. He killed his wife. The body is in the sewer. The police caught him and said it wasn't my fault. Or he was playing pigeons on the roof. The neighbor killed him. Help went. The bowl of his head broke. Or he was a thug down town. He's a guy from here and there. I don't think so. Behind the thick mustache, there is no evil person. He is kind. I tidy up the library, he helps. Or he killed the girl's fiancé. He had a previous relationship. There is no solid evidence. Or it was unintentional murder. They are keeping him until it is found out. Or he is innocent.

I asked that day. He dodged. I didn't ask anything so as not to be bothered. Sometimes he asks strange questions. I don't know the answer. I cheer him up.

For example, Mr. Turkashvand said in a low voice.

Turkashvand: My name is Anush.

Anush: Do you think I am a good person.

Turkashvand: Yes, you are good.

Anush: Then why am I here?

Turkashvand: Prison is not a bad place. My crime is not paying the installments.

Anush: No.

Anush: So we are not innocent. If we are, it was not intentional.

Turkashvand: You are 100 percent good. You did me no harm. It was a kindness.

Anush: We are servants. We did nothing.

What do I know? He asks questions about himself. I don't know the answer.

I crave cigarettes more here. The smell of lovely stench.

It's raining especially. I want a cigarette and a window. I want to sit outside and watch. The smell of dampness in prison. A good environment for studying and thinking.

I'm still looking for a glimmer of hope. They say that every year something good happens. If he pays his debt, we'll be freed.

I remember the dogs in the cages of the animal organization. They give money to release them. It's not a good feeling to see criminals.

They recently brought in a new prisoner. Bahman. A good boy. He has a negative view of everything. Even me. I told him to go to a psychologist. He'll help. He got upset. He doesn't answer. He talks to himself. He doesn't talk to Sadri and Anoush much. He's quiet.

At first I was upset that Juan works. His income from the theater is low. He'll make up for the expenses. Now I see that without me, the overhead will be reduced. He'll manage life better.

Maybe the world wouldn't be a place without me. My life is done. Out of the theater. I have no income.

Life was ruined because of art. Nothing is the same as before.

Having a child in this situation was a shame. Juan insisted. We were forced to have children. We were getting older. Maybe we couldn't do it anymore.

I tell myself what sin the child has committed. He was born. He suffered. If he hadn't come, he wouldn't have suffered.

Prison has become a hut of sorrows. I sleep on the bed. I read books. I organize the library from morning to noon. I warm my head.

What's the difference between prison here and outside? Prisons.

That day I talked to Sadri about life. I explained the situation. His mind is open. He calculates things.

Sadri: Don't be sad, Behrouz. There will be an ultimate good. I will stay here forever. Or transfer to another cell. What can I say? Let's see what happens. Do you have a cigarette.

Behrouz: Smoking is allowed in prison.

Sadri: No. I have it.

Behrouz: Where from.

Sadri: I give the soldier money. He takes an envelope. Give it.

Behrouz: Yes. My heart is sad.

Sadri: Come on. The soldier doesn't see the smoke. Let's do it.

Behrouz: Okay.

We went behind the wall. We smoked. It didn't taste good. It wasn't heavy. It was in mint condition.

We talked. Sadri said I'm not Sadri. A pseudonym. For writing.

Behrouz: Real name.

Sadri: Monthly. Come out, I had it.

Behrouz: It's good...

Sadri: No, it's not good. The crime of political writing. Sharp criticism. They brought it here. They might give him a political sentence. The investigating officer knew him. He read the book. He didn't give him a political sentence.

Behrouz: He became quite familiar.

Sadri: Yes. Fate is like that.

Behrouz: What can I say.

Sadri: Let's go. The officer is suspicious.

Behrooz: Yes.

The taste of the cigarette was unrepeatable.

At that moment, the patrol officer came.

Soldier: Hey. What are you two doing wrong?

- Nothing.

- Nothing.

Sadri said he has a creative mind. He told the soldier nothing. We looked at the pipe this way. It burst. Let's help.

Soldier: No need. Go to the cell, help is there.

Sadri blinked. Don't worry. Under control.

It seems like it has happened many times.

After a few minutes, the soldier said why do you smell of cigarettes? Smoking is prohibited.

I said to myself, we've been exposed.

The soldier smiled mischievously. What happened? You're not answering.

Sadri gave three lines.

Soldier: Only three.

I feel relieved. It went well.

Sadri gave two more lines.

The soldier smiled. Did you see the camel?

He sent him to the cell. He went down the yard.

Sadri called. Come and see. Where did the soldier go?

I looked through the fence. We went there to smoke. The commander wouldn't notice.

Sadri said: "I know the sleeping veins of all the prison guards here."
Sadri's words made me trust him even more.
Sadri: This guy I gave five threads to is called Amira; he eats cigarettes and takes care of his little sister; his father is an addict and there is no news about him, and his mother works from morning to night just to get a bite of bread and give it to them.

I know the spies.

My confidence increased.

Sadri: This is Baba Amir. Cigarettes. Taking care of my little sister. Dad is an addict. No news. Mom works from morning to night. A bite of bread.

I remembered Juan and Shervin. Wrong marriage. We drag a child in tow in life.

Manya's photo is delicious in my pocket. I live with her memory. I calm down. Juan doesn't come to visit the prison. I became lonelier. Loneliness increases.

I read books in the library more alone. Or I complete A Lonely Man. Three months in a ruined house. Happy to pay off a debt. Where is it? In the absence of money, where is it?

A pen tube. Line of paper. A confused mind of loneliness. Loneliness is the punishment of lovers. Life without me is happy. I am fed up with life. It feels too late.

Happy to finish a lonely man. The next morning I regularly write a few pages of a book.

The pen says pain. Blue-violet ink. It's spring. Brown leaves.

Times have changed. I see the world in a different color.

Not only do others have empty behind me. I have emptied myself. I try to be a lonely man to describe my situation. Difficulties. Sometimes the feelings of the people of the city are heartbreaking. I have killed dreams. The problem is that I became the oldest in my youth.

Today, the benefactors are coming. They will release the debtor. Today's hope. If it doesn't happen, a few months later.

I sat on the bed. I closed my eyes. I imagined myself at the Tony Festival. On stage. The host is talking about the writer of the lonely man.

- Ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Behrouz Turkashvand. Tony's nominee. Please, set the scene.

I opened my eyes. I looked around. I said, "Where is the prison here? Where is the Tony?" I was wearing a shirt with Anoush Bahman's blouse. It's impossible for me to fly from prison. Somewhere is an imagination.

Maybe the play will be performed in a regular theater. Enough. I will pay the creditor. Life will be organized.

The moments were getting worse. I was reviewing the soldier's call, Mr. Behrouz Tarkashvand, free. Get out. Or don't fantasize.

I smiled ridiculously. I lay down. Today was not a lucky day. No one came.

I have to wait. I will be released from the animal organization like a dog. It is difficult for a soldier to visit the cells. For some, a promise of freedom. Some, like me, are waiting with hopeful eyes.

It is difficult for a soldier to visit the cells. A promise of freedom for some. Some, like me, are waiting.

Dialogue of a prisoner soldier I love. Mr. So-and-so, freedom.

- Who. Me.

- Yes you.

- Really.

- Yes. Pack your things. Go.

The joy of freedom is attractive. I may not be free. The joy in their eyes is inspiration for a lonely man.