ایستگاه خاطره ها

An Iranian's love for Rascal

The words of an Iranian writer and poet for Sterling North

Around 1989, a cartoon called Rascal was broadcast on a children's program in Iran. This beautiful series left a strange impression on me that still remains. Before Rascal aired, I had a tree house in the middle of our yard. I built this house with my childish hands, but it did not have a nest for even a bird to live in. Later, when Rascal was broadcast, I added a nest to it, and a sparrow fell into my hands, which did not have power to fly. I named that sparrow Poppy and took care of him for a month

Playing the Rascal cartoon and getting to know Sterling's character changed my interest in playing with animals to being kind and affectionate towards them. When I saw Rascal, I found myself in his stories. I felt that Sterling was the embodiment of my dreams in Edgerton, it was a mirror that showed me myself, and as a result, my feeling towards him gradually turned into love and became a part of me
 

When we were still children, there were very bad advertisements about USA in Iran, so that we Iranians, especially children, thought that USA was a hell where devils live. Although I used to follow Rascal cartoon every day with passion and cities like Chicago and Milwaukee are always mentioned in this series, but I didn't know them and I didn't know that this cartoon is about USA

Later, when I got a little older, I developed a strange interest in geographical maps. Our house was full of geography maps that I bought and read. This interest led me to the point where I became a full-fledged professor in geographic maps. I knew all the countries, islands and continents. If someone mentioned a country or an island, I would immediately draw a map for him, along with the capital, population, size and general information

By chance, one day (in 1994) I saw the names of Milwaukee and Chicago on the map of USA. Milwaukee and Chicago were the cities whose names I always heard in cartoons. That day, I realized the Rascal cartoon belongs to USA, and as a result, my view of USA culture changed. I could no longer believe that USA is a hell where demons live, because every series represents the culture of the country that produced it, even if the story is not true

Nineteen years later (2013), another truth was revealed to me that I did not know about until that day. Before that, I thought Rascal was just an imaginary cartoon, but that day I realized "Sterling North" is an American writer whose Rascal series is his autobiography, that he wrote himself. This means that each and every character in that cartoon and the events that happened are all real and once existed. This increased my love for Sterling North a hundredfold because I was now dealing with a real character that could be sought out in a real world

What Sterling's character showed with his childish behavior and feelings was the way of humanity. He instilled in me a love that can never be expressed in words. A love that later led me to writing. When the children of my land were still killing animals, he taught me to be kind to animals, and choose a name for them like a human being. This naming, which is a beautiful and humane culture was always dear to me, a culture that never existed in my land before Rascal

The city where I spent my childhood is called Yamchi, which is almost the same size as Edgerton. These two cities have completely different cultures, but my childhood in Yamchi is not unlike Sterling's childhood in Edgerton. Now, even though that child has grown up and I am a writer, I still watch the Rascal series and never get tired of watching it. The stories of this series are interesting and memorable for me; Especially the tree in whose trunk Rascal lived, because it was similar to it in our yard

Now my biggest childhood dream is to go to Edgerton and visit Sterling North's house there. This city is the city of my dreams since childhood, but alas, I will not achieve this dream and there is no one who will bring me to this dream. My childhood has a strange connection with this city, so that sometimes out of nostalgia, I search Edgerton on Google Maps and think that I have lived there like Sterling

I hope to see the day when the children of my country will respect nature and be kind to animals like Sterling North. Friendship with nature is the beginning of love and kindness. A person who is kind to nature and respects it, will definitely be kind to his fellow humans. Kindness and love are the missing things of humanity in today's world, which, if realized, can make the planet a better and peaceful place to live

Although Sterling North is no longer with us, his memory will remain forever in the hearts of children, poets and writers like me

Thirty years later 

On August 6, 2021, I saw a photo on Facebook that had Sterling North Community written on it. I read the description of the photo, which was in English. The photo was of Sterling North's home 112 years ago. Seeing the real house of Sterling North gave me a strange feeling, so I commented a summary of this memory that you read under the photo

The next day, I received three emails from three different sources. The people of Edgerton, Ariel North (Sterling's daughter) and Betty Leonard (Director of the Sterling North Society in USA). The people of Edgerton had praised my love for their city, and Sterling North's daughter had sent a picture of her father's youth in thanks. Betty Leonard also wrote: what you wrote is so very touching.  Could I have your permission to print it in our newsletter that we send to our membership.  It's so very moving. My name is Betty Leonard and I'm president of the Sterling North Society

I happily said that it was my greatest honor to have my writing published in Sterling North newsletter. She also thanked and put the article in the selection list for printing. Two months later, the article was published and she emailed me a photo of it

با اینکه کوچه هایش بسیار شبیه هم بودند، یکی از آنها ناخودآگاه مرا از حرکت متوقف کرد. به هادی گفتم بهتر است لحظاتی اینجا بایستیم ولی آن کوچه همچون آهنربایی قوی مرا به داخل خود کشید. انگار کسی می گفت باید داخل این کوچه بروی. پر از شور بودم و احساس. تا اینکه وسطهای کوچه، خانه ای را دیدم که چشمانم پر از اشک شد. همان خانۀ قدیمی آقا سلمان بود. همان خانه که ایام کودکی به آنجا رفت و آمد می کردیم. خانه ای که سرشار بود از خاطرات شیرین کودکی ام. خانه ای که وقتی رفت همه چیز را با خودش برد.

کوچه ای که دیدیم:

منزل قدیمی آقا سلمان در همان کوچه


خانه را که دیدم فهمیدم کارخانه نیز باید همان نزدیکیها باشد. به خیابان اصلی رفتیم و نگاهی به اطراف انداختم تا اینکه بالاخره کارخانه را نیز پیدا کردیم. همان کارخانه که روزگاری منزل زهرا خانم داخلش بود. همان کارخانه که روی پله هایش عکسی کودکانه گرفته بودیم. (خاطرۀ ده روز در ارومیه) دیگر کسی در کارخانه کار نمی کرد متروکه شده بود ولی پله هایش با من حرف می زدند.

جز من هیچ کس راز آن پله ها را نمی داند. هادی که احساس مرا در آن لحظات خوب درک می کرد از کوچه، خانه، کارخانه و پله ها عکس می گرفت. اکنون گاهی ساعتها به آن تصاویر نگاه می کنم و غرق در آن خانه و پله ها می شوم. نوستالوژی عجیبی دارند. گاهی دلم پر می شود و اشکم در می آید. کوچک که بودم همیشه می گفتند به فکر آینده ات باش ولی نمی دانم چرا همیشه گذشته ها شیرین ترند.

همان کارخانه با همان پله ها

شعری که آن روز سرودم:

چهارشنبه شب، پانزدهم مرداد 93 خانوادگی در حیاط مادرم نشسته بودیم. نزدیک شام، نعمت هم رسید و مادر سفره را پهن کرد. نمی دانستم آن شام، شام خداحافظی است و آخرین غذایی است که در کنار مادربزرگ می خورم. بعد از شام مادربزرگ و خاله رقیه را با ماشین خودم به منزلشان رساندم. وقتی مادربزرگ نزدیک منزلشان پیاده می شد با من دست داد و خداحافظی کرد سپس من و حمیده به تبریز برگشتیم.

چهار روز بعد (19 مرداد) برادرم رامین خبر داد که مادربزرگ از دنیا رفته است. گرچه زار زار اشک می ریختم ولی هرگز باورم نمی شد که مادربزرگ را از دست داده ام. پشت فرمان به سرعت سمت مرند می رفتم تا اینکه وسط راه گفتند مادربزرگت را خاک کردیم. دیگر امیدم از مادربزرگ قطع شد. به یامچی رسیدم ولی داغی که بر دلم سنگینی می کرد نیمه شب مرا به قبرستان کشاند.

آن شب در سکوت قبرستان هر چه اشک داشتم سر خاکش گریستم و ذهنم به دورانی رفت که مادربزرگ تنهای تنها زندگی می کرد. (خاطرۀ اشکهای مادربزرگ) سال 73 وقتی خاله رقیه از شوهرش طلاق گرفت غمی دیگر بر غمهای مادربزرگ افزود ولی مادربزرگ را از تنهایی درآورد. مادربزرگ در منزل می ماند و خاله رقیه برای کار به مرند می رفت.

از آن سال به بعد وقتی دیدن مادربزرگ می رفتم یک صحنۀ پراحساس، همیشه برایم تکرار می شد: «مادر بزرگ جلوی در، کنار تیر برق نشسته و چشم انتظار من است». آن تیر برق که هنوز هم آنجاست، تنها تیر برقی است که برایم قداست دارد. هنوز هم وقتی از آن محله رد می شوم غریبانه نگاهش می کنم ولی افسوس کسی که همیشه آنجا چشم انتظار من می نشست دیگر نیست.

همان تیر چراغ که مادربزرگ کنارش می نشست

یادت بخیر مادربزرگ عزیز. فرزندت هرگز فراموشت نخواهد کرد.

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مزار مادربزرگ در قبرستان کیخالی