art ~ spirit ~ transformation
e*lix*ir

e*lix*ir   #9, Special Bicentenary Issue
autumn 2019
 

TABLE OF CONTENTS


Editorial

  • This Holy Land of Persia by Sandra Lynn Hutchison

  • Personal Reflection Piece

  • The Gate to Eternal Life by Roxana Karamzadeh

  • Sweet Fruit

  • A Small Window on the Big Blue Sky by Mahtab Rezvani
  • Planting Seeds by Shadi Saadat
  • Broken Dreams by Roxana Karamzadeh
  • * Reading Anne Frank in Isfahan by Sahba
  • * Sweet Fruit by Anisa Bahamin

  • In the Land of Persia

  • An Alley Called Golestan by Nabil Zarei
  • Culinary Sisters-in-Law by Neda Akhavan
  • My Grandfather’s Library by Siavash Haghighat
  • * A Small Piece of Heaven on Earth by Saba Shadabi
  • * Riding a Purple Bicycle in the City of Isfahan by Sahba

  • Holy Places and People

  • Maku and the Muslim Man by Shadi Saadat
  • Fort Tabarsi and The Courage of the Brave Bábís by Negin Rezghi
  • The Cloak by Shadi Sadaat
  • The Mysterious Box by Sara Shakeri
  • Haji Assad, the Great Teacher of Seysan by Shadi Saadat
  • * A Glimpse of the Glorious Landscape by Rojin Ghavami

  • Through a Child’s Eyes

  • The Grief of War by Tanin Azadi
  • An Earthen House by Nava Habibi
  • A Cherished Dream by Elmira G.
  • The Golden Crown by Shaghayegh Rashedi
  • A Dream of Childhood by Basir Samimi
  • * The Love Bird by Zarrin Kasiri

  • Comic

  • “Ruhi & Riaz”
    by Solmaz Haghighat

  • From Yazd to New Delhi

  • A Weekend in a One Hundred Star Hotel by Saba Shadabi
  • The Long Journey from Yazd to Tihran by Ali F.
  • The Road at the End of the World by Tanin Azadi
  • My Soul Dances in New Delhi by Roxana Karamzadeh
  • The Turkish Girl by Nava Habibi

  • The Left Hand of an Artist

  • The Left Hand of an Artist by Sara Shakeri
  • To Sing or not to Sing by Ellie
  • A Sympathetic Friend by Farina Shafei
  • Taraneh Alidoosti, My Hero by Nava Habibi

  • * asterisked works appeared in previous issues of e*lix*ir.

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    An Earthen House

    by NAVA HABIBI

    Recently, I came across a drawing of a traditional house with earthen walls that brought to mind memories of my grandmother’s house. I can never forget the days that I spent in that house with her. In spring and summer, her garden bloomed, a mass of delicate purple and pink flowers. In the middle of the yard there was a little pool with some fish. The house stood next to the pool, with earthen walls and stained glass windows.

    My grandmother lived peacefully in that quiet house, but she was vibrant and alive. Looking into her pale brown eyes, I felt so energized I might have been a butterfly flying into the big white clouds. Although she had some mystery about her, with a big nose and a square chin like a wizard, she was just a simple good-hearted woman. While caring for me, she was very strict, but also very kind.

    Every spring, I would retreat to her house to study for my exams. It was quiet there. Even after I took all of my exams, I did not want to return home. I preferred to stay with her, all summer long. My mind was at rest in that peaceful house with my grandmother. Every afternoon, we would sit together on the settee, which was on the right corner of the yard and covered with a white bed sheet. My grandmother would pour tea into two red cups and we would have a little tea party together. When I finished my tea, I would lie on her legs, and she would run her fingers through my curly hair. She would tell me tales from The Gulistan of Sa’di by Sheik Sa’di, or she would sing a lullaby in a soft, melodious voice. One of the tales about an unjust king who asked a holy man, “What is more excellent than prayers?” He answered: “For you to remain asleep till midday, that for this one interval you might not afflict mankind.”

    When I arose each morning, I would see my grandmother kneading, with her wrinkled hands, some loaves of bread for our breakfast. When we ate the bread, she would add a knob of butter to make it more delicious. The whole morning the house would be filled with the lovely smell of baking bread. After I had finished my breakfast, I would listen carefully to her as she chanted the Hidden Words in a gentle voice full of conviction. One of them I can never forget: “O Son of Man! Neglect not My commandments if thou lovest My beauty, and forget not My counsels if thou wouldst attain My good pleasure.”

    It has been years since I spent those glorious summer days with my grandmother. But even now, I can visualize her walking ahead of me, like a guide on the sometimes dark road of life. For me, she has always been and will always be a lamp, lighting the way ahead. As a child, I loved everything about my grandmother, her quiet house and her beautiful garden. And even though the house no longer stands, the memory of my grandmother and her earthen house continues to fill my heart with peace.



    Photo by Bev Rennie