The Blind Owl and Other Stories by Sadeq Hedayat

Author:Sadeq Hedayat
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi
Tags: Romance, Short Stories, Fiction
ISBN: 9780714544588
Publisher: Calder Publications
Published: 1985-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Legalizer

(from Three Drops of Blood)

(translated by Deborah Miller Mostaghel)

Four hours were left before the sunset and Pass Qale* looked empty and quiet in the middle of the mountains. Arranged on a table in front of a small coffeehouse were jugs of yoghurt drink, lemonade and glasses of different colours. A dilapidated record player and some scratchy records stood on a bench. The coffeehouse keeper, his sleeves rolled up, shook the bronze samovar, threw out the tea leaves, then picked up the empty gasoline drum, to which wire handles had been attached, and walked in the direction of the river.

The sun was shining. From below could be heard the monotonous sound of the water, layer after layer of water falling on each other in the riverbed, making everything seem fresh. On one of the benches in front of the coffeehouse, a man was lying, a damp cloth covering his face, his cloth shoes arranged side by side next to the bench. On the opposite bench, under the shade of a mulberry tree, two men were sitting together. Though they hardly knew each other they had immediately embarked on a heart-to-heart conversation. They were so absorbed in their conversation that it seemed as if they had known each other for years. Mashadi Shahbaz was thin, scrawny, with a heavy moustache and eyebrows that met in the middle. He was squatting on the edge of the bench, and gesturing with his henna-dyed hand, saying, “Yesterday I went to Morgh Mahale to see my cousin; he has a little garden there. He was saying that last year he sold his apricots for thirty tomans. This year they were frostbitten and all the fruit fell off the tree. He was in a terrible condition. And his wife has been bedridden since Ramadan. It’s been very costly for him.”

Mirza Yadellah adjusted his glasses, sucked his pipe with an air of relaxation, stroked his greying beard, and said, “All the blessing has gone out of everything.”

Shahbaz nodded in agreement and said, “How right you are. It’s like the end of the world. Customs have changed. May God grant much luck to everyone – twenty-five years ago I was in the neighbourhood of the holy city of Mashad. Three kilos of butter for less than a rial, ten eggs for a rial. We bought loaves of bread as tall as a man. Who suffered from the lack of money? God bless my father – he had bought a bandari mule, they’re fast and small, and we would ride it together. I was twenty years old. I used to play marbles in the alley with the kids from our neighbourhood. Now all the young people lose their enthusiasm easily. They turn from unripe grapes to fully-fledged raisins. Give me the days of our youth. As that fellow, God bless him, said:

I may be old, with a trembling chin,

But I’m worth a hundred young men.”

Yadollah puffed on his pipe and said, “Every year we regret the last year.”

Shahbaz nodded. “May God grant his creatures a happy ending.

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