folk tales
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Notes on White Mulberries
If real events are the bones of these stories, and my shall we say, “embellishments,” make up the rest, then this particular tale of Khanum Bozorg’s death is perhaps best described as an inner ear. There are only three tiny truths buried in this little vignette: one, Khanum Bozorg was my mother’s primary caretaker when…
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White Mulberries
The story of my great-grandmother, Khanum Bozorg. Written in two vignettes, No. 2. Ever since she fell off her horse and broke her nose into a calligrapher’s mim, Khanum Bozorg lost the ability to smell and taste food properly. She couldn’t tell the difference between rotten meat and fresh meat, wouldn’t know it by the sweet…
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Leila Mishmast
The story of my great-grandmother, Khanum Bozorg. Written in two vignettes, No. 1. Before her three sons and three daughters gave her grandchildren, Khanum Bozorg was not Khanum Bozorg at all. She was Leila Mishmast and she was a “fire-whirl.” At least that’s what her mother used to call her. Her mother’s entire life revolved…
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For Name’s Sake
Mahin Banu’s Baby. Written in four vignettes, No. 3. Every woman who married into the Moftakhar family was given a new name and a laqab, a descriptive title that replaced however unadorned a past a girl may have had in her father’s household, with the silver-threaded (albeit slightly moth-eaten) flourishes of her husband’s home. Over…
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At Mohtaram Khanum’s
Mahin Banu’s Baby. Written in four vignettes, No. 2. Mohtaram Khanum lived in Shahbdolazim, in the ancient city of Rey. Home to the shrine of Shah Abdol-Azim, Rey was reconnected to Tehran under Nasser ed-Din Shah Qajar by the Tehran-Rey railway – known affectionately by locals as the machine dudi, the “smoke machine” – and…
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The Persian Princess and the Pea
Mahin Banu’s Baby. Written in four vignettes, No. 1. Smoky silhouettes of Mahin Banu’s death lingered for some time in the Moftakhar household, acting and re-acting the events of that solemn day on the walls in a macabre shadow play. Aware of the chaos that was sure to ensue, Mahin Banu’s eldest sister, Badr al-Zaman,…
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Baby Bites
The story of my grandmother, Mahin Banu (Persian for “lady like the moon”). Written in three vignettes, No. 2. Mahin Banu’s imagination, though impressive, was still only second to her temper; a peppery teenage temper that could bite and scratch and claw out the beast. But it wasn’t a patient mother or a loving father…
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Part One. The Moftakhar House in Moftakhar Alley
A vignette describing my mother’s house in Tehran in the 1940s. Most of Part I of my book is set here. The Moftakhar house snaked itself around Moftakhar Alley with all the wiggling hips of a Wednesday market girl. When they first assigned surnames in Tehran, Asqar Aqa’s father, Ali Aqa, chose the name “Moftakhar”…
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Preface to White Mulberries
Every family member who visited us from Iran in my youth, with their smoky blazers and suitcases full of embroideries, pistachios, handmade trinkets, saffron, and gold for our future wedding days, also brought with them a far more precious collection of family folklore and personal memories that were shared over cups of tea as we…
al-majus 