1

A Question of moral

OR

What is this thing called love

Generally, it is well known that women are very good in something that we

may partially dub as talk-your-guts-out syndrome, especially when they do it

over the phone. And they can do it for hours. And they can do it relentlessly and

regardless to the presence of the others in the place they do it, at home or

wherever. It’s also reputed that men, whether husbands or other kind of

relatives, don’t like it. They usually find it boring and even sometimes

disgraceful. As to the latter, it could well be a subject worthy to discuss,

however to generalize women’s phone-chats as being boring is sometimes a

matter of taste and mostly it could be caused by self-deafening of men based on

a traditional prejudice against such feminine pastimes. However, I think that

men usually don’t understand those subjects for which women pick up the phone

and get hooked on it for a long time. They don’t understand why women are so

keen on talking about a third person usually of their own gender, and that in

her absence (a wrong notion, because women wouldn’t merely talk about their

own sex. However, when they talk about the opposite sex they do it in a way

that men’s ears usually would not realize). They ask themselves why women do

think it necessary to report to each other in details such trivial things they have

done in the day or a week earlier. That’s a question for which neither I have a
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clear answer. However, I am convinced that women-talk, the impulse they put

in it, and the way they do it are not always as boring as it sounds from outside.

It even could be funny, amusing and even hot and thrilling, just if you are

patient enough to listen to their prolonged talks carefully, as if you have picked

up a third receiver in the next room to eavesdrop on a conversation between

these two women.

Sabine is thirty-nine years old, a school teacher, has been married for

almost eight years to Khosrou, a native Iranian immigrant who is in import-

export business. On the other end of the line, you hear Ziba, Khosrou’s sister,

thirty-eight and housewife, married to an engineer named Stefan, almost as

long as Sabine has a ring on finger. Both have small children: Sabine one and

Ziba two. It is in the evening after dinnertime. Children have been sent to bed

and husbands, fed fully, watching football on TV, and seem to be absent enough

not to disturb them while they are in the middle of such an spellbinding

conversation.

Sabine (stunned): Really? I can’t believe it!

Ziba: You must believe it. She told me that yesterday.

Sabine: She is crazy I’d say.

Ziba: I’d say that too. Otherwise, how could she go that far for a trifle like that?

Sabine: And what did you tell her as you heard it?

Ziba: Nothing. You know Barbara; she doesn’t like you criticize her.
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Sabine: That’s true. On the other hand if you let her do all those crazy things without

warning her, you then are damned to a long time atonement for her terrible temper, very

much like the previous time that she got really on our nerves.

Ziba (laughs): Or the time before that too.

Sabine (sighs): Yes, with that macho; what was his name?

Ziba: I don’t know, Marco or something.

Sabine: Yes, some kind of Marco. She has to marry, I’d say.

Ziba: You can say that again. But who will marry her is the question!

Sabine (sighs desperately): I’d remember at least a dozen of times I offered her a

variety of men. She tastes them and throws them away. I’d say she has a kind of

complexity.

Ziba: From childhood …

Sabine: Once remember I invited her here to probably match her with Thomas. You

know him, don’t you?

Ziba: That young architect with thin light moustache and big feet?

Sabine: Yes. He surely was ideal for her. You know, young, successful, relatively

wealthy and good-looking. I told her: come over here and see what I’ve got for you. Do

you know what she did?

Ziba: Didn’t she come?

Sabine (lowers her tone): No, she came, but not for Thomas. She came in such a dress

you can’t imagine, and sat to flirt with my husband throughout the night.

Ziba: With Khosrou?

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Sabine: Yes with Kosrou, and so outrageously and shamelessly that I didn’t really

know how to behave. I didn’t know should I become angry or die of embarrassment.

Ziba: Oh you poorest thing!

Sabine: And she flirted with him unstoppably, as if I weren’t just there.

Ziba: You should have thrown her out of your house.

Sabine: Should I? But how? She’s a long-time friend of mine.

Ziba: On the other hand she’s harmless. I know she sometimes eyes up Stefan too.

But nothing happens you know!

Sabine: Uh-huh …

Ziba: Lest you think …

Sabine: No, of course I don’t. But there is sometimes this feeling that …

Ziba: I know Khosrou. He’s kind of flirty sometimes. But deep inside, he’s a faithful

thing like a dog.

Sabine (sighs): Yes, this Kosrou, my dear faithful doggy Kosrou.

Ziba laughs.

Sabine: What happened?

Ziba (laughing): You know that – the way you pronounce his name has a meaning in

Persian.

Sabine: Yes, it means somebody with pussy-like face, I know (laughing), and that’s

another problem with him, isn’t it?

Ziba: Or it’s a passable name and he’s really got a face like that!

Sabine: Don’t speak so about my poor Kosrou. Your brother is a very good-looking

man.
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Now, if you are a man, you probably think: ah, what the hell of a boring

talkativeness. However, if you are ready to wait for the rest, you will see that

women need a certain amount of time to get in a proper mood for exalting the

quality of their conversation.

Ziba (sighs): Ha! Tomorrow I must go to Kian’s kindergarten. I wonder what they

want from me this time.

Sabine: As a school teacher I can tell you that it’s good for parents to go there off and

on and see the situation for themselves, you know!

Ziba: But that woman, the director, Frau Schumann or Schumacher or whatsit, is a

real gossipy creature.

Sabine: That with a fat ass?

Ziba: Yes, that. Once she starts you can’t get rid of her for an hour or so.

Sabine: Yes I know that type (sighs) I guess my butt is getting fat too.

I know, in this moment you are probably very motivated to hang up, of

course at the risk of becoming notorious for lack of interest in ladies’ bottoms.

Ziba: O, come on. It’s not true. You have that in a very sexy way.

Sabine (laughing): Thank you very much.

Ziba: It’s not only my opinion. Christine says the same.

Sabine: Who?

Ziba: Christine, Stefan’s niece.

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Sabine: That with Jane Fonda’s hair-style?

Ziba: ‘Now she’s wearing it very short.

Sabine: Yes I know. She’s that who always carries freakish bags.

‘Yes, that’s she is; lady mishmash!

Sabine: Where has she seen my butt?

Ziba: She sees everybody’s butt, (laughs) in her words, a lady’s buttocks is her

second face!

Sabine (stunned): What?

Ziba (laughs): she’s so funny! But I think she’s right as much as men are concerned.

Sabine: I don’t know; should it be a one-eyed face.

Ziba (guffaws): with a deep groove in the middle …

Sabine: Yes, a groovy face for men … (sighs) thanks Heaven I don’t have to have it

always in my sight.

Ziba: Why don’t you come with me to Schoeneberg? It could be kind of fun!

Sabine: The fitness studio?

Ziba: Yes. First, I can take you as my guest. You know! I’m allowed to take one with

me.

Sabine (lowering her tone): As I’ve heard Mathias goes there too.

Ziba: O, come on! That’s an ancient-old story.

Sabine: Nonetheless …

Ziba: Are you afraid he may look at your second face?

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Sabine: No, I’ve got used to that. That’s what even the boys in the school do

everyday. My reason is much simpler. I don’t like him seeing me … even my first face

you know!

Ziba (humorous): Oh, what a simple reason! Are you still somehow … I mean …

(lowering her tone) you’re my best friend and though Khosrou is my brother and you

really love him, I can understand if you still got some old flame inside you!

Sabine (resolute): Thank you Ziba, but as you said, that’s only an old story. The flame

has gone for ever!

Ziba: Furthermore, as I see he’s not that dangerous anymore.

Sabine (laughs): Thanks. That’s very kind of you!

Ziba: No, I mean it really. Some men, when they get older, begin to lose what I call

their ticker.

Sabine (after a short laughter): And also he’s so mean; the meanest man I’ve ever

seen in my life.

Ziba: Oh, I see!

Sabine: He’s so abusive, you know!

Ziba: Uh-huh!

Sabine: I don’t know how my relationship with him could have developed, hadn’t

Kosrou turned up in my life.

Ziba: Uh-huh!

Sabine: And I should thank you for that.

Ziba (sighs): No. It was the destiny.

Sabine (softly): May be.

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Ziba: Yes it was.

Sabine: Do you remember the night you brought us together?

Ziba: Of course! You killed me if I didn’t.

Sabine (laughs): What else could I do? It was love at the first sight!

Ziba: Oh yeah!

Sabine: Once I saw him I saw my dream man.

Ziba: And immediately forgot Mathias.

Sabine: Oh Ziba, you don’t know how happy I was that he didn’t come with us that

night.

Ziba (rather sad): Well, it could go other way.

Sabine: Oh come on, it could be a disaster.

Ziba (impressed): Yes.

Sabine: My next luck was that he had no girl friend at the time. He had come with

that couple … you know who I mean.

Ziba: Nadia and Karim.

Sabine: Yes they were!

Ziba (rather excited in a lower tone): By the way, did you know that Nadia betrays

Karim?

Sabine: No!

Ziba: Yes, I saw that with my eyes.

Sabine (interested): What did you see?

Ziba (very low): Listen! You know Stefan’s brother, Michael. He has a bungalow at

the North Sea.

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Sabine: Yes I know that.

Ziba: Well, last June he invited us among some others to go down there on a

weekend. Nadia and Karim were also invited. I think it was Saturday and we were by the

seaside for a walk and it was a little bit cool. I had my crop top on. So I came back to

pick my cardigan. When I entered I heard them talking in the living room.

Sabine: Whom did you hear talking?

Ziba: Wait. I don’t know if you’ve ever been there. Michael’s bungalow has a funny

construction. First you enter a small room and then you go into an L-shaped corridor that

Sabine (impatiently): Yes, I know.

Ziba (surprised): Have you been there?

Sabine: Yes, once or twice …

Ziba (laughing): I guess everybody has been there once or twice at least.

Sabine (hastily): Ok, go on!

Ziba: Well, now you can imagine how it was. Stefan and I were sleeping in the room

across the corridor next to the leaving room where Nadia and Karim were sleeping. I

went in the room and heard whispering voices from there. You know about my idle

curiosities sometimes. The door was slightly open. So, I looked through and there were

they.

Sabine (neurotically): Who were there?

Ziba: You can’t imagine. Nadia and Michael. They were standing there and kissing.

Sabine: No!

Ziba: Yes I swear! That’s what I saw with these eyes.

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Sabine (shaky): Are you sure?

Ziba: Of course! Am I blind?

Sabine: Isn’t it a little bit strange? You said you were outside for a walk. Had nobody

noticed about his or her absence at all?

Ziba: I don’t know. There was the whole bunch of us outside. And we were a dozen.

Furthermore, Karim and … I guess it was Ralph; I suppose they’d driven to the city to

buy things for the evening. And I thought that Michael was gone with them (sneers), yet

there were they, standing in the corner kissing each other.

Sabine (arguably): Well, it was just a kiss. It’s may be a little too hard for the Oriental

attitude, but among us it’s almost normal a thing to kiss each other in a harmless way.

Ziba: Harmless? With her unbuttoned shirt and his hands around her hips?

May God forgive those who have hung up too early.

Sabine (snarling): Bastard!

Ziba: Oh Sabine, you can’t imagine how it was! It was too hot (giggles shortly); they

were so busy they wouldn’t have noticed if the whole bunch had come in.

Sabine takes a deep noisy breath.

Ziba (cautiously): Are you all right?

Sabine: Yes, I just got a small shock.

Ziba (curious): Why? Has there ever been something between …

Sabine (hastily): Nonsense! I just though about Kosrou and that he has kind of old

friendship with Karim and his wife.

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Ziba: You mean you’re afraid there’s been something between Nadia and Khosrou?

Sabine: Well, an easy slut like her can open legs for every man.

Ziba (thoughtful): I don’t think so, although she’s very sexy.

Sabine: Well, that can I tell about you too. But you don’t get around with unbuttoned

shirt, do you?

Ziba (laughing): At least not for Michael, though I admit that the scene I saw made

me kind of sentimental.

A noticeable fact for those who think women will quit their girlish attitudes

once they marry.

Sabine: It surely was a big surprise to you.

Ziba: Of course it was. Nonetheless, I always knew what type of a man Michael is;

through Stefan, you know! He did warn me long ago, that his brother has a hungry eye

for every woman coming in his sight. But the way I caught those two and the way they

clung on to each other and the way I saw his hands caressing her; oh it was too hot for

me. I really felt I got on fire!

WOW!

Sabine (sadly): I wish you’d have told me about his meanness earlier.

What?
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Ziba: What?

Sabine (embarrassed): Yes.

Oh Sabi!

Ziba (shocked): Oh Sabi!

Sabine (sobbing): It happened so suddenly.

Ziba (impressed): Oh poor girl!

Sabine goes on sobbing.

Ziba: When did it happen?

Sabine: Three years ago, August 2001.

Ziba: Knows Khosrou about that?

Sabine: That time he was on a business trip to Sweden. You also weren’t there.

Ziba: Oh yes, I remember now! I was in Cologne. But I don’t understand how could

you happen to come across him?

Sabine: It was through Martina. I was in her birthday party, you know her!

Ziba: Yes, that with funny glasses.

Sabine (sighs): Well, he was also invited, (sobs) oh Ziba, you don’t know, I always

wished that I could talk to you about this. But it’s so embarrassing that … (sobs)

Ziba (cautiously): Hush, hush! Don’t cry please! It can happen to everyone.

Sabine: But it shouldn’t happen to me, mother of a new born-baby and a wife who

loves her husband dearly.

Ziba: Did it happen that very night?

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Sabine (rather annoyed): Of course not! I don’t know how it came to that point that he

invited Monica and some others for a weekend trip to the North Sea, and I was among

them.

Ziba: Yes, Stefan is right when he says that the bungalow is bought only for this

purpose.

Sabine (sobs): Damn ugly bungalow …

Ziba (compassionately): That’s quite right. The bungalow is really an ugly thing.

Sabine (sniffles): I can’t still believe what I did.

Ziba: Was it only one time or …

Sabine: No, only that Saturday night … (whispers) I was too drunk.

Ziba: That son of a bitch!

Sabine (sighs): It’s a relief to be able to talk to you about it. Thank you!

Ziba: Well, you’re my best friend and I think you had to talk to me about it much

earlier.

Sabine: Yes. But you’re his sister and …

Ziba (sighs): Whatever, you can do it every time and in any circumstance.

Isn’t it great to have two women who understand each other so well?

Sabine (impressed): Thank you darling!

Ziba: Furthermore, men aren’t the angels on earth as well, you know what I mean!

Sabine (her voice drops to a whisper): Well, I think my Kosrou is an angel.

Ziba: Is He? (laughs heartily)

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Sabine (half sad, half humorous): I see; you’ve got too much respect for your brother!

Ziba: Well, I know him in and out.

Sabine: But from a different view than mine, I mean a wife’s viewpoint. You know

that.

Ziba: Um …

Sabine: It sounds as if you don’t see Stefan as an angel do you?

Ziba: I just see him as a man, a husband and a father of my children; a good one …

(sighs) and I think that’s enough.

Sabine (sadly): I don’t know; perhaps you’d have seen it from a different view had

you done the same mistake I did.

Ziba (abruptly): How near were you to your brother before you married?

Sabine: My brother? Which one? As you know, I have two.

Ziba: Either one, I don’t know.

Sabine: About Stefan, my two-years younger brother, I can only say he was ever

being a nerve-racking monster for me. Even now, I can’t stand him longer than an hour or

so. Sven was different. Older, always being wiser than I. He was my second father, if you

know what I mean.

Ziba: Uh-huh.

Sabine: I told him about the incident in Michael’s bungalow.

Ziba (surprised): Really?

Sabine (sighs): Yes, I had to talk to someone. After I came back home, I was so

empty and lonely. You weren’t there, you know!

Ziba: What did he say? How did he react?

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Sabine: Well, he said ‘you’re old enough to know that everybody should pay for fun.

There’s no fun out of charge. He said if I had enjoyed the fun I did pay for, then it’s done

and over and there’s nothing I should complain about. And if I hadn’t, then I just goofed.

Ziba (impressed): That’s so intellectual from a man.

Sabine: Yes, he’s kind of intellectual (sighs) … what about Kosrou and you? Were

you ever being so near to him to tell him about goofy things you’ve done?

Ziba (laughing loosely): No, I never needed to tell him about that. We used to goof

together.

OH ZIBA!

Sabine: No, I mean about your story with boys.

Ziba: I know what you mean.

Sabine (laughs shortly): No you don’t. I mean he couldn’t always watch you. You

surely had had something with boys of your neighbourhood or at those parties you used

to go.

Ziba: Well, we’re the so-called children of the revolution. I never went to parties

whatsoever; neither had I opportunity to be alone with boys of my neighbourhood.

Sabine: What about the time you came here?

Ziba: Well, I met Stefan.

Sabine (dissatisfied): I don’t mean him. I ask you about goofy things.

Ziba: Goofy things are what I did with him.

Sabine: With whom?

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You know buddy? I guess Sabine doesn’t want to understand.

Ziba: With him.

Sabine: …

Ziba: You could trust me in telling me about your affair with Michael and I feel I can

trust you too …

Sabine: …

Ziba (laughs softly): Did I make a mistake?

Sabine (shaky): How is it possible?

Ziba (sighs): I don’t know. Every kind of coincidence is possible.

Sabine: I I I know … I’ve read about it and … but even among such well educated

and such people with such positive trait like you two; is it really possible? My Kosrou?

Ziba: It’s always possible if time and place match well.

Sabine (neurotic): What do you mean with time and place match well?

Ziba (rather reproachfully): You should understand what I mean with it, don’t you?

Sabine (flabbergasted): I know, but I think there’s a clear difference.

Ziba: It’s not different. You think so because my case doesn’t come to light as often

as your case does.

Sabine (rather subdued): Yes, sin is sin!

Ziba (mocking): Now please don’t come up with your Christian teachings.

Sabine: Well, have you never been a Moslem?

Ziba: Never, as long as I remember.

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Sabine: How old were you when it happened?

Ziba: You mean the very first time?

Sabine: Yes.

Ziba: Fifteen. I think it was 1982.

Sabine (murmuring): Then he was eighteen.

Ziba: Do you wanna know the details?

Sabine: No.

Ziba: It was a very hard time for both of us. It was a year after our parents were killed

near Saveh in a car crash. And we had no idea if we could ever find a way to leave Iran,

which seemed just like a far dream to both of us.

Sabine (sighs deeply): Yes I know. Kosrou has told me about those years … of course

after censoring this part.

Ziba: O, he’s not to blame for that. I guess he didn’t tell you a word about it, because

I had a share in his secret.

Sabine: But you’re revealing it to me now!

Ziba (laughs): Well, I guess there’s a difference that women can’t keep a secret

forever.

Sabine: oh, it’s so admirable that you can take it so easy.

Ziba: Well …

Sabine: I still feel ashamed when I remember my father. He used to beat me when I

was just a child and then wanted to sleep with me when I came of age … fortunately it

did never happened.

Ziba: I’ve seen your father. He should have been a damn good-looking man that time.
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Sabine (laughing): O, you little shameless thing!

Ziba (saucily): Yes, I think I am mom.

Sabine (hesitantly): Are you two still sometimes doing it?

Ziba: No. We did it the very last time on the plane brought us here. He told me he had

ever wished to do it on a plane, and I … well I also found it kind of a thing that we could

do on that plane.

Sabine (stunned): On the seats?

Ziba: No, in the toilet room. You know a night flight it was, from Istanbul.

Sabine (intensely): You’ve got a nerve!

Ziba: Do you wanna know the details?

Sabine: No, but …

Ziba (laughs): Yes, you want to know it.

Sabine (embarrassed): Not really. But you can tell me about the first time you did it. I

don’t know why, but it feels kind of romantic.

Ziba: Why not? But you have to do it first. I’m kind of keen to know how it did

happen between you and Michael.

Sabine: Oh, it wasn’t kind of romantic.

Ziba: Yes it surely was, come on! I know you very well and I think it should have

been a very special situation for you, and I want to know that. Please!

Sabine (sad): It was indeed. O, what a shame!

Ziba: Come on, Sabi!

Yes, come on!

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Sabine: Well, we were on that veranda. You know how it is, looking over the sea. It

was late and the others had all gone to bed. We were alone and we had drunk a lot of

wine. I was really drunk, Ziba.

Ziba: Go on.

Sabine: And it was very warm, because of wine may be … and there was moonlight

… (sighs) I don’t know it was he or … anyway, I fancied to go swimming. Or I guess he

suggested doing it, and I said ok. Please believe me. I had no idea about what was going

to happen. It was wine, and perhaps you know how it is on the seaside. No matter how

much you drink; you’d never get how drunk you are. I was blank you know!

Ziba: I believe you.

I don’t!

Sabine: Then we were in the water for a while. And he began to touch me.

Ziba: Were you naked?

Sabine: I think I had my panties on … oh, what did I do Ziba?

Ziba: That’s ok. Just remember what your brother told you.

Sabine (reluctantly): Yes I remember.

Ziba: Come on girl! What happened next after he touched you?

Sabine: It’s all so misty in my memory. I remember I got out of the water and ran

across the beach, and he ran after me; he was fast and I breathless. He grabbed me and we

both floored on the sand … it was so strange. I had never been in such a situation anytime
20

before that. It was vacant on the beach and so quiet, and the sound of the see with the

moonshine on the sand that had a silvery colour. I think no woman can resist that

situation.

Ziba (impressed): It should have been so romantic.

Sabine: Too romantic if you want to know. We were lying there for a while and then

he began to touch me again. I pushed him back. He drove his fingers over my nipples. I

put his hand back. He was just like a child in that moment you know, kind of obedient at

a moment and pixy like an imp, never got serious. Then he began to rub his toes on my

calf very gently, in a way that I like it very much you know!

Ziba (softly): Yes, I like it too.

Me too.

Sabine: then I felt his tongue at my nipple. I guess I didn’t react this time. I was sort

of relaxed and numbed, may be because of the atmosphere and the play he was doing

with me, the way he treated me you know! Then he came up for my lips and I turned my

face away (sighs) Ziba, I have a point on my neck that makes me kind of mad if

somebody touched me there, right below my earlobe, do you understand?

Ziba: Yes, I’ve got a point like that, not there, but at the nape of my neck that I get

goose bumps overall when a man kisses me there.

Sabine: Well, I don’t know, may be it was a coincidence, or may be he had a kind of

instinct to know how to touch me. He put his lips there and I was electrified like hell …

oh, it so shameful, Ziba, shameful, shameful.

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Ziba: Yes, sex is a shameful thing, and is always immoral, even when you do it with

your husband.

Sabine: But he was a perfect stranger. It was so unworthy. When he kissed me there, I

turned to him and bit his lip. I didn’t want to hurt him. I did it just because I knew that it

was so unworthy and so fascinating at the same time.

Ziba: The inner conflict, I know.

Sabine: I’ll say! You understand me, thank you.

Ziba: What happened next?

Sabine (fetching a deep prolonged sigh): I bit him and he said no word to complain or

so. And we stared in the eyes. And it was so beautiful and outrageous in the moonlight.

Nothing was between us, and he knew that I was willing. He began to kiss me and I

kissed him back, and then our kisses became long and it became kind of French kiss.

Believe me, I had never thought about it in any moment before going there and

throughout the day that I could be so willing for that, and now I was. My body was

willing and my soul too, though my mind, my conscience knew that it was wrong. I was

facing the most outrageous moment of my life. And I was fighting against it. I wanted to

resist. I thought, well, it’s just a kiss! Well, let it be a hot kiss, never mind. I don’t let him

any further. Then … then I sensed him between my thighs, and in the moment he was

trying to penetrate into me, I put my hands on his chest and tried to push him back. I

scratched his chest with my nails. I jabbed my fingers in his arms and his back as deep as

I could. But he was coming in, gliding carelessly, relentlessly. I bit him several times

during our … (gives a deep sob)

Ziba: Stop crying Sabi! If it was delightful …

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Sabine: Yes, that’s the problem. It was so delightful (laughs nervously) I enjoyed it. I

delighted each second of it, in every second of that night. And we did it again and again

that night, insatiably, oh Ziba!

Ziba: Well, it seems so natural. Did you still love Khosrou in that very night?

Sabine: Oh yes.

Ziba: Then that’s ok. You were in a very special situation and the chances you could

get caught in it again are almost zero. You don’t have to go punishing yourself with it for

the rest of your life.

Sabine: Oh Ziba, you have a very strong sense of understanding.

Ziba: May be because I was almost in the same situation.

Sabine: With Kosrou?

Ziba: Yes.

Sabine: Did you never feel guilty afterwards?

Ziba: No, may be because I was prepared for it … and that there was a long process

for that to happen.

Sabine: How could it occur? How did you come to that? I mean both of you.

Ziba: Do you really want to hear it?

Sabine (sniffles): Yes I want.

Ziba: It was a very hard time. We were at war. Our parents were just dead. The ways

were closed and the situation in the country was so miserable and hopeless that the future

for us was only a wide black screen. Almost every night we had been put on red alert

because of Iraqi bombers. Constantly we were left in the dark. O, you can’t imagine how

gloomy it was (sighs). We were living alone in that apartment, a huge apartment north of
 23

Tehran. One night, it was spring 82; I was standing behind the door listening to the

outside, because there were several guys from local committee had come for one of our

neighbours. I never got what had happened. May be our neighbour had neglected to turn

off the lights, or he was suspected of something. It was too noisy and threatening indeed.

Then came Khosrou and stood behind me. It was so dark I couldn’t see him. We were

even not allowed to have a small candlelight. And I was frightened like a mouse, and

naturally happy that he was there with me. I don’t remember how long it took and we

were standing there listening to the noises outside. Then I felt him at me. You know, I

had a pair of red velvet loggings on. I still have them, though they now have become too

tight to wear, but I still have them. He stuck it to my butt. So, I naturally got shocked. I’d

never thought he would ever do that or any idea that he could be so. I could feel his penis

getting bigger. It was so easy to feel him from behind those loggings. So, I was sure it

wasn’t kind of accidental.

Sabine (dry): What did you do?

Ziba: First nothing. I just stood there pretending I wouldn’t notice about anything,

though I felt it was getting hot there; kind of pricking you know. It was freaky, I still

remember as if yesterday. We stood there in that dark; the silence inside and noise

outside, and he was doing kind of things with me (laughs shortly) … he didn’t make any

sound of passion or excitement. He was absolutely quiet. Both of us were quiet. Then we

heard the white alert and the lights outside the windows were on. The committee guys

were still there. I detached from him and faced him up. Then I noticed he had got me wet,

sticky you know. I took a glimpse of his face and it was red just like a baked beetroot.

Sabine: Oh!
24

Ziba: It was another shock to me. I was so ashamed of him that I couldn’t stand there

any longer. To hell with those guys outside! I thought and ran away to my room and

locked the door.

Sabine (quietly): What did he do?

Ziba: I don’t know. He didn’t come after me. I locked the door and took off my

loggings. I was in a state of shock. I didn’t even turn on the light.

Sabine (impressed): I understand. What happened next?

Ziba (sighs): well, then there turned a big gap between us. We barely talked to each

other; didn’t eat together and never spoke about that night, for months I guess. I didn’t

want to talk to him.

Sabine: I think you had to.

Ziba: I know. But I was just a teeny. Both of us were teeny-weenies, and we were in a

situation that none of us was prepared for. Still, after all these years I don’t think that his

approach that night was kind of an opportunistic act.

Sabine: What do you mean with an opportunistic act?

Ziba: That he didn’t do it according to an initiative silly mean thought … a plan or

something. I think it was more a reaction to the situation outside in which we were. We

both were extremely anxious through that very, very long moment. We were afraid they

would also break into our apartment. So brawling and furious they were and right behind

the door. We were really afraid, Sabi!

Sabine (sighs deeply): Yes I understand.

Ziba: Really? Well, it took a long time for me to understand it. And when I finally

understood it … you know something had been changed and there was no way that I
 25

could take it back to its normal way. First, I was resentful at being mistreated and abused,

and I had pity on me for a time, then I began to have pity on him. Then, through my

permanent sense of humour of course, I began to find it funny that he’d been able to have

an orgasm in such a horrendous situation. Then finally I began to have pity on both of us.

We were being two children belonging to a generation that had been disappeared

overnight. We were living in a country full of hate and mistrust and living along with

those people that couldn’t understand us, perhaps because we couldn’t understand them. I

don’t know. We were two lost children you know!

Sabine: What about him? Was he showing any sign of remorse or sort of trying to

apologize to you for what had occurred?

Ziba: No … (laughs). No, I think he didn’t show any sign of remorse. However, he

was sort of ashamed. He was confused and he always tried to avoid my look when our

eyes happened to collide. We were living in an apartment that had enough space for an

army, but it was only an apartment.

Sabine: But the situation finally changed, didn’t it?

Ziba (softly): Yes … it changed one evening when I came home. It was late, because

after the school I had gone shopping with some of my classmates and it had taken a time.

We had planned to do so, though I hadn’t told him about that earlier. Well, I came in and

he was sitting on that recliner, smoking cigarette and listening to the music; so loud I

could easily hear from the alley before the house. It was unimaginable. He didn’t raise his

head when I entered. May be he hadn’t noticed because of the noise. Recently he had

become a jazz freak and I hated jazz. I shouted at him, but he didn’t react. So, I went to

the music set and lowered the volume quite well down. Here he looked up at me, first
26

stunned and then his eyes turned angry. He got up and came on and turned the volume

even higher, quite defiantly. Well, he couldn’t let me down that way. So, I pushed the

button off. Then we stood there, I don’t know, an eternity, gazing. His eyes glittered with

anger and I tell you he was angry. I asked about his intention of doing such silly stupid

things: “are we in the Europe now you think?” I asked him. He didn’t answer, and it

made me furious enough to go on like this: “or perhaps you wanna get those committee

guys at our door to give you a chance discharging yourself on me again”.

Sabine: Did you really tell him that?

Ziba (laughs): Of course I did. I had to make that remark sometime. It was dangerous

I know, but I couldn’t live in that situation forever. And I wanted to provoke him to break

his silence. And you know what he did? His look suddenly changed and he started to

laugh. I slapped his face, but not too hard. I just wanted him stop with that silly laughter,

and he did. But in his eyes you could see as if he was having fun of the new situation. I

slapped him again on the other side. His answer came this time with a slap at the back of

my hand. Now imagine, we were standing there for a while slapping each other silently

and cold-bloodedly (laughs). I don’t know about his cheeks, but my hands had begun to

burn on both sides. And his eyes were still looking at me with a witty tearful shade

(sighing) … but I wanted more Sabi. I went to my room and slammed the door. Then I

did the craziest thing I could ever do. I took off my clothes and went out in my panties. I

had nothing else on. Going to the kitchen, I pretended going to have a glass of water. He

was standing there watching me, as if waiting to resume our beating game (giggles

shortly). I came back and he was still standing there. I stood there at the threshold with a

glass of water in hand answering his stare for a while before I stuck out my tongue at
 27

him, got in the room and slammed the door behind again. Well … (sighs) since that

evening that everything began I had always been locking the door before going to bed,

but this time I didn’t do that … though I was sure he would come … you’d probably

think I was in love.

Sabine (far): Yes, I probably think so.

Ziba (gently): Every teeny girl has a dream man in her mind. You said Khosrou was

your dream man, but he wasn’t kind of that for me. I mean I had never dreamed of a man

who would look like him. But there’s always a difference between dream and reality. In

reality, I wanted a man who would come to challenge me hardly or even perhaps cruelly.

I never wanted a man to come drooling over me. Perhaps there are girls who’d prefer

such types. But I was of that kind … never been. Well, I think I was waiting for him to

come in and take me by force.

Sabine (shaky): Did he come?

Ziba: No, though I was sure he had seen my green light, (laughing) just imagine; he

had literally left me in the lurch.

Sabine: Oh yeah!

Ziba: Well, that beating game gave our relationship a new phase. We even started to

have a normal brother-sister relation. Now we ate together and talked to each other

sometimes, but still not so often as we did earlier. And we had some happy hours off and

on, for example in the time he succeeded to go to the Tehran University. Otherwise, he

had to go to the war you know! But it was just a front. Inside of us, we wanted more,

something more … morbid desire you know! When our hands or a corner of our clothes

touched the other’s by chance we jumped and got excited. It was both sweet and bitter.
28

He had no girl friend nor did I have a lover. We were living and behaving just like two

toys in two glass-cases, just like those toys in that Donovan’s song, Little Tin Soldier;

you know that song?

Sabine: Yes.

Ziba: And we might have reached the same destiny hadn’t we found someone who

could smuggle us out of Iran.

Sabine (softly): Yes I know, in 1985.

Ziba: Yes. We fled first in a passenger bus, then on horseback and finally we had to

run across the border on feet. We had given us as husband and wife. We had been told to

do so, for my safety. Our contact had told us that it would be better for me not to go as an

unmarried woman. So, we got out. In our first hideaway in Turkey that we had to stay

three nights, they gave us a small room with a narrow mattress laid right underneath the

window. They told us just to hold on there and don’t move. We even couldn’t stand up

for we could be easily seen from outside. We had to crawl all the way to the toilet room.

Otherwise we were confined to that mattress, sleeping and eating there just like those

ancient Romans who used to eat while leaning on elbow … (sighs) and then it happened.

We got laid for the first time.

Sabine: Oh!

Ziba: It’s hurting you.

Sabine: No. Just tell me how it came to that!

Ziba: I think it was so natural. We were young, extremely happy of our success so far

and at the same time extremely exposed to all kind of danger you might imagine. We

were like two little doves in storm. We had lost our country and home, which we had to
 29

sell to have money for getting out. And in every moment of our stay there, we could be

captured by police and deported, and there was a good chance we could never see each

other again. And our bodies were so close together. It was summertime and the room was

too hot to sleep in clothes. However, first we thought we would control it. In the first

night being there, I bid him to sleep with his back on me, and I turned my back on him

too. We were so tired from the long hard adventure we had behind us and I guess we both

went to sleep instantly. But in the middle of the night, I woke up and sensed his butt had

been clinging to mine, sweaty you know! I don’t know if you have ever realized such a

situation when your fears and anxiety, your moral, your passion, even your sense of

humour are mixing up in a particular bizarre way that you can’t tell anything from

anything. As if you’re living in a la-la land. I was in no position to tell what I was doing

was right or wrong. I just did it. I began to rub my back against his back in a very inviting

way. Then he began to do the same. I think he was awake when I began, but it took a

time before he responded. Now it all looks so funny to me, but through that moment …

I’d got a feeling like never before. I was discovering some very brand new feelings inside

me that I had never been aware of.

Sabine (hoarsely): oh Ziba, it was your first sexual experience!

Ziba: Yes, and I wasn’t even eighteen yet.

Sabine: Did he …

Ziba: Yes, he turned over to me and it felt like fire when he touched me with that hard

stiff …

Sabine: What was your reaction?

30

Ziba: I didn’t change my position. I didn’t want to see him in that moment, a girlish

feeling, though I went on stoking him and took my hand behind to clutch at his hair.

Sabine: Oh!

Ziba (tenderly): I remember every second of it so clearly as if it was yesterday.

Sabine: What are you feeling now?

Ziba (laughs): Amazed and amused.

Sabine: No I mean, are you still in love with him?

Ziba: Not that way. What we did that time during those three nights and a couple of

times later in Istanbul, whether right or wrong, gave us some kind of looseness you

know! I think that husband and wife game we were playing all the way from Tehran to

Turkey had much stronger effect than he we had ever thought … I mean it was the same

on both of us. And we both were sure that it was over when we did it last time on the

plane. Because when we surrendered ourselves to the police in Frankfurt airport, we were

again only a brother and a sister. (laughs) and still we are just brother and sister!

Sabine (doubtful): Are you sure really?

Ziba: Yes, (laughs) you don’t need to be worried about us, otherwise I wouldn’t have

told you the story.

Sabine: I thank you for that.

Ziba: You know, for me love is the compatibility of two persons for a challenge.

When challenge is done, no matter won or lost, love comes to its end. You know what I

mean by ‘love’.

Sabine (relieved): Oh yes … There is a song that Kosrou listens to off and on. Its

name is ‘what is this thing called love’.

 31

Ziba (faintly): Yes I know.

Sabine: You were so lucky, because of pregnancy you know!

Ziba: Yes, (laughs) otherwise our child could have become the next king or queen of

Egypt.

Sabine (sighs): I’m so relieved we could talk about all these things at last.

Ziba: Me too … now that you know about all these, will there come any change

between you two?

Sabine: Ah Ziba, perhaps it does. But my love to him is so strong. I know what I did

was much more unforgivable.

Ziba: But you won’t tell him about that do you?

Sabine: Why should I? I’m not crazy to go changing the position that has kept us

together so long … and what about you? Will you talk to Stefan about his brother and

…?

Ziba: Don’t be silly. Of course, we talk sometimes about his brother and his insatiable

thirst for women. But I’m not that naïve to go mixing up my intimate secrets with my

husband. You are my dearest friend and our secrets just remain our secrets.

Sabine (laughs): That’s very nice of you.

Ziba (caught by surprise): Oh my God! Watch the clock. It’s almost eleven.

Sabine (surprised): Don’t say that! Really? Oh, I’ve got to get up early in the

morning.

Ziba (disappointed): Me too. Oh, time flies too fast.

Sabine (laughing): When you have fun!

32

Ziba: Ok. Next week Cinema Rex will show a new film with Robert De Niro, as I’ve

heard a very romantic film. We can go to see it together if you like.

Sabine: Good idea. I’ll give you a ring to arrange it.

Ziba: Ok. Bye.

Sabine: Bye.

Wow! Putting down the receiver, taking a deep breath, now consider what

we may make out of all this? Was it true what we heard? Women are able to lie

as convincing as men can do. Perhaps women prefer to chat on the phone,

because their addressee cannot see their eyes and lips when they lie. But why

should they lie about such things that might be interpreted as individual

weakness? Lies happen when people want to hide something or need to show up

in a better position than that they in reality are. However, if they talk the truth,

what is the purpose of all this? Did they want to sting each other for some

reason that we are not aware of? Very unlikely. They sounded to be very good

friends. Perhaps they needed to impart their deepest secret to someone else to

lessen the weight they had been carrying for a long time. That’s a logical

answer, though men usually cannot make head or tail of such women affairs in

a logical way. Taken for granted that it was true what we heard; what if they

are unable to hold their mouths? According to Ziba herself, women cannot keep

a secret forever. What if, for example, during a blazing uncontrollable row with

Khosrou, Sabine shouts at him: “you sister fucker’? It’s possible isn’t it? Ziba is

in the belief that she does not reveal her hush-hush information even to her

husband. But what if she finds it hard to completely digest that her sister-in-law
 33

is not as faithful as she seems to Khosrou? Her relationship with him, through

its sexual background, is of an extraordinary quality that probably would not

vane either by the passing of time or changes in their lives. So, what if she finds

it very difficult not to warn her brother to take a better look of his wife in the

future? On the other hand, Ziba and Sabine have voluntarily obliged themselves

to keep silent. It’s a kind of blackmailing. ‘Keep my secret safe, otherwise I will

reveal yours’ is commonly an indirect path of security. Or, as I may imagine,

we are going to be too cynical with our wild speculations. It is as well possible

that these were just two ordinary married women with two extraordinary

experiences on the front shelves of their memories, and needed to share them

with each other. Or it’s also possible that they somehow were aware of our

illegal attempt to eavesdrop on them and wanted to fool us this way. Women

are women, you know! They belong to a dancing species. Either goodly or

badly, happily or sadly, they dance throughout their lives, sometimes to our

robust male rhythms, but to their own rhythms mostly, so lightly and quietly

that we never get a wind of. But if you are kind of interested, they may let you

dance with them. No matter how terrible a dancer you are. They take your

hand and lead you on to the spot, because they’ll never reveal your clumsiness

while dancing with you. They just need you to be a good company, and that’s it!