Persianality Quotes

“Some people have described Ava as religiously non-observant, but I think she's starved for love. She must have been deprived in her youth. That's why she acts out. Deep down, she didn't have a good opinion of herself. Not that she's perfect. I just think she could use a hug.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“The orphanage taught their girls religious ritual to the Nth degree, and how to make their own clothes. Giti mended uniforms for the soldiers and even sold a few prayer rugs in the marketplace. Self-sufficiency they called it. Ha!”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“After we sat, Ava glared sidelong at Giti. 'Sorry I slap you last week, but I did not think you would ever stop talking, and I had somewhere to go.' Then, with a quick toss of her head, 'Bad day.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“I'm insane. I'll admit that. I have that awful condition: cleithrophobia. Father knew all of this, of course, but nowadays he never asks direct questions. I was determined to show him the world outside should be invited in--celebrated. I had every intention of doing the same thing tomorrow, and all nights thereafter, until he conceded, or, I made my escape to gay Paree.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“A boorish laborer of some type emerged from a crowd of timid Coke-drinking men. He moved toward us with the wide menacing stance of a wrestler, black glistening hair, jutting like straight shards from beneath a Pashtun cap. Strong as an acre of garlic. He stared at me with an undignified glimmer in his eye that I wished wasn't there.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Although my words were temperate and well-expressed, they seemed to repulse Ava. My timing has never been precise. Ava regarded me the way a widow spider examines a housefly. She laughed loudly, a vulgar Occidental laugh, the laugh of a person who wraps their next meal in silk before draining their lifeblood. But, I have been known to imagine things.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“I sized her up and got this sick feeling that she was about to ruin everything. Giti never missed an opportunity to show up her superiors. I stopped dead in my tracks and patted her down for a hidden prayer rug. No religious drama was too outrageous for her.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“I'm telling you this because I want you to grasp the nuances of Persian hospitality. Whether entering or leaving, all guests must be accorded the honor and dignity of monarchs, because they are.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“It was clear Zoe had stars in her eyes, a little too enthusiastic about her new home--our home. I wasn't sure what manner of house she came from, but I was starting to hold her opinion suspect.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“In this unguarded instant, I realize how much I miss my childhood-big-brother, Uncle Solomon. I miss the comfortable merriment we once shared. His face is awash with a transitioning auburn from the setting sun. It is a handsome face, maybe the only pleasing face left in this wretched town . . . besides Armand's.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Allah will provide, I say, finger toward heaven. I try pushing past her. I don't like it when Giti gets handsy with my purse. She said, alms, as if my money's sole purpose is to solve her problems. I'm as generous- more generous, than most. I just don't like poor people. They contribute very little to the national economy.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Iran--this strange and depressing place. This Ayatollah wasteland is where I gather with friends and watch their eyes scream, Let me out!”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“He's a pitiful soul. Gentle, frail, the least likely to protest. In a nation of hairy men, Father stands out like a sleek adolescent boy. For years, his hair was thin and wispy, then, in one year, gone. He couldn't even keep the hair on top of his head.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Mother is gone. When one person is missing from the table, the whole world feels empty, hollow, echoing with voices of the past. All of us, from that time, have changed. Love is so short.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Maybe he was honor-bound to lock us in, by some imagined duty? Perhaps this was an Islamic preparation to make us contended wives? Were these locks supposed to dampen useless dreams that sparked needless desires? Or, was he a mad man, sick and demented?”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“He moves me to madness. He's an indescribable poetic impression. He's Persian blood re-defined by Parisian culture, softened in the right places, yet, fierce where it counts. Dreamy. The kind of boy you can't get too close to, because you might get lost in his brown eyes and melancholy.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Eviction day at the orphanage loomed large over Giti--and I worried deeply for her. 'Allah will provide,' I whispered. But Giti rolled her eyes, unconvinced.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“This feminine billboard of Middle-Eastern fashion stopped me on the street last month. She ran her hand over the seam of my jilbab, admiring the color and fabric. She only said a few words. 'We are living in a gender-quake, a modern sexodus. We have a duty to project dis female revolution in da way we dress. Come visit me at the Monkey Bar and tell me who tailors your outfits.' She's been my fashion role model ever since.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“It's forbidden to bite a woman's arse. In the absence of a legal precedent, the Imams decided to apply human law to the guilty monkey, whoever it turned out to be. They narrowed it down to Bosco or Shin Bone. The victim was unable to distinguish one monkey from the other.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Voices of village idiots roiled in a jester's stew of odds-making tomfoolery. Occasionally, a monkey screamed in the heat of competition, and crude words were freely spoken. The more sophisticated were forced to tolerate such low-minded displays.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Crape Myrtle trees line our streets. They awaken at the onset of Irans mid-day heat. They turn their leaves up, lifting their branches to give the azure Middle-Eastern sky an open-mouth kiss. Row after row blushes with red blossoms of ecstasy. Noshahr--where every hill has its own story, every valley its own poem, every girl her own heartache . . . that's for certain.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Iran. Hot for certainties, but all us women get are rhymes. Always a metaphor; always a clever turn of phrase; always quoting poets without giving a direct answer. Give us definitive wedding dates. That's certainty! Those are the certainties we ache for--as certain as the sunlight that our sun-loving botany aches for.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“I hope he invites me to walk with him, or at least share some local gossip. My heart is singing . . . but no duet. Duets and collaborations. All of nature longs for harmony. Girls are no different. Men need to realize, life is not a solo act. Unity is a potent force, but men don't always see the importance of unifying with a good woman. Find the right woman and watch a man's world transform into a modern-day Paradise. All I'm asking for is a little noticing and a chat or two.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“I suppose by most girls' standards, Armand is hot. But he shops more than a woman. I'm sure those are not the right words. Note to self: I must think of more masculine ways to describe Armand.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“I'm sure love has its own means of survival, its preferred host, its ideal temperature, its own law of thermodynamics. Why else would women crave hot baths?”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“We Persian women certainly know how to hold our tongues, but when emotions flare, we say it, and say it hot. Maybe Middle-Eastern weather creates residents who feel and respond in ways bizarre to the rest of the world. I'm sure culture and weather connect in some way.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“I could burn a forest down with these feelings--feelings desperate to erupt. Volcanic. A cauldron expanding with the fullness of longings, ready to scorch this backward little village.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“You're no Mother, but after you arrived, we began to heal. We all felt it. Father speaks to us through you, and we, likewise, through you to him. Strange, but somehow you've returned the circulation to a dead household You arrived just in time With you here, I don't feel so bad about leaving.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“We're a family in shock, still reeling. Mother was the songbird, the smile, the spirit of our house. In her absence, none of us knew how to fill the void. Father tries, but after two minutes of small talk, out comes his pocket watch, and off he goes, mumbling, leaving the conversation half done.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality

“Since Mother's death, Father sees a sneeze as one step from pneumonia. I would rather die than confess a symptom. I don't like this new side of Father. This Father is weak, afraid, constantly worrying. I dare not encourage those fears. Instead, I nod or shake my head, keeping interchange sparse, waiting for a subject more suited to the dignified Father I remember. And I know he's in there.”
― Michael Benzehabe, Persianality