What follows is the result of an idea to connect the field of philosophy and thought with the world of drama. Let us choose sentences to ponder from the statements of the members of the philosophical group, which are archived in the “Chistiha Blog” (http://chistiha.blogfa.com); and after manipulating the concepts of those statements, and doing a brief exercise and editing, let us create a dramatic idea that will continue to form another dialogue, another concept, and another thought.
In the principles of drama writing, “ideation” and “drafting” have a specific method; but we tried to be one step before the idea and the plot. At the same stage of mental spark or, in our own words, the “study” stage, where the writer’s hand is open to writing down any image, concept, or point. Here, we have not limited ourselves to not mentioning the technical instructions, performance arrangements, dialogue, staging, and other matters, and left them for more detailed plans; on the contrary, we have completely written down whatever came to mind at the moment.
During our group meetings, we came to the conclusion that it was not necessary to obtain refined and precise plans from our conversations. It was only necessary to immediately edit and record everything that came to mind in an instant as a “study.”
And now we share the same with you. May these exercises and sketches be the beginning of a path to step on a bridge between philosophy and drama.
Ideas on the Bridge from Philosophy to Drama: Etude One Hundred and Seventeen
Note: These sketches have been registered with the Islamic Culture and Guidance Department. And the intellectual property belongs to the author.
These sketches are only allowed to be republished on the “Chistiha” site.
Etude one hundred and fourth
Etude 104
Short film. About twenty-five minutes
It is the late spring of 1988. Hadi is standing next to a newsstand with his back to us. A red coupe car comes; it stops and a young boy gets out to buy a pack of cigarettes from the stall. He is Pasha, a friend of Hadi’s high school days, who doesn’t notice. And when he takes the pack of cigarettes and is about to count them, Hadi steps in front of him and says: “Sir, the cigarettes are counted.” And Pasha only notices Hadi; and the excitement comes from the excitement and greetings and general expressions of happiness. But anyway, he has to go and ride with his friends upstairs. Later we find out where upstairs is. And at the last moment he gives Hadi his card and leaves. The newsstand (Mojtabi) nods and gestures to mean: “You buy a cigarette yourself, but treat your school friend to a pack!”
In the following scenes, we meet Hadi. After school, he goes to school and studies. At first with enthusiasm and interest. His family lived in a small satellite town. And he first came to the dormitory; and after four years of study, he faced many problems. First, he caught typhoid and was transferred from the dormitory to a rented room measuring two meters by two meters one summer of his second year of study. And then he never returned to the dormitory. And he rented rooms or houses in the same category. In the summer of his third year of study, he fell in love with the daughter of one of the professors of the faculty. An English professor who came from outside the field. And he had been in America most of his life.
But a love that was extremely ridiculous. And an astronomical distance between two contrasting cultures. And finally, when that girl left the country, this love also began to decline; but his only achievement was that Hadi’s English had become so strong that he found the position of assistant to that professor and translated articles for him for free. With the pleasure that his name was mentioned below the article. That’s it. And of course, in the discussions that the professor had in class about the separation of religion from politics, Hadi was the only one in the class who agreed with the professor and thought that the place of religion and politics should be separate. This year, Hadi is in his fourth year of seminary, his thoughts have been completely turned upside down. He doubts everything. And even now he doesn’t have time to pray. Because he has no place to sleep except this newspaper stand. This stand belongs to Mojtaba (who, now that his father has settled down, has been given to Mojtaba). This stand is at Mojtaba’s disposal during the day. At night, Mojtaba gives it to Hadi as a place to sleep. On the other hand, they also fold and unfold newspapers and magazines together. And there is a half-hearted friendship between them. In addition, Mojtaba, who has a normal life and still lives at his parents’ house, has made balance the mainstay of his life. Balance and a series of morals. And nothing else. He did not pursue education or pursue hard work. He even managed to get rid of the military service with some money his father spent.
Since Mojtaba is the boss of this stall, he has not allowed Hadi to walk around this street dressed in clerical clothes. And Hadi has agreed. And every time he wants to change clothes, he has to go to public toilets. Or to prayer rooms in parks. But Hadi is also worried about the military service. He can count the two months he was in the student mobilization. But after he withdrew under the pretext of measles and has not been in the mobilization anymore, it is becoming expensive for him. Many in the field where he studies have doubted his beliefs. And why he no longer gets along with anyone. And now that the language teacher (Mr. Naeini) has left this city, why is Hadi still in contact with him in the virtual environment.
Hadi and Mojtaba’s friendship began here, when one day he asked if he could meet someone at one of these magazines and translate and get paid. And Mojtaba laughed at him, saying that among all the prophets, why did he go after Georges? Why scholasticism? Why philosophy? Why humanities at all. And now why translation? And he himself said that he loved selling newspapers, this job his father had. And he did not pursue education.
But this same Mojtaba is the constant companion of Hadi’s philosophical and logical exercises. He likes to handle polemical questions and answers and truth and falsehood statements. And now he himself is completely familiar with the terminology and principles of logic and philosophy and constantly shows off his virtues like a first-semester student: for example, the whole is not equal to the parts, and the minor and major predicates need a middle ground, or the term “Yaqf” is wrong for this proposition, etc. Mojtaba is also very happy these days; because the sales of his newspapers have multiplied. These days, when we talk about the presidential elections. And Mojtaba, without caring about any of these four candidates, is happy that the atmosphere of society has turned towards election fever. That they have had sales for several months in these fifteen days. That finally, when each of these presidents comes to office, the situation is the same.
The next day, Hadi is staring at Pasha’s card. The card of the boxing club. There is also a picture of a punching bag. With two boxing gloves. Hadi, who is walking in the park, calls Pasha. On the other end of the line, Jamshid picks up the phone. And he was also one of Hadi’s school friends. Both of them are happy and cheerful and have funny jokes. And that the club’s address is on the card and “We will definitely come and see you at the club”.
At night, Hadi gets out of the taxi. In a deserted alley where all the houses belong to the upper class. There is no sign of the club or the sign. Only the bell says “Pasha”. Hadi rings the video iPhone and then introduces himself; and they open the door and enter the courtyard of a luxurious complex. Its colored lights are on. Turns and single steps and ramps through the garden and lawn lead Hadi to where the guard is sitting, which is on the ground floor. The guard asks his name and guides him to the elevator to the negative floor B. And Hadi goes. As soon as he enters the club, he feels like he is losing his mind. This place is nothing like the gambling dens he has seen in American movies. And at this hour of the night, the crowd of strange young people here is infinitely far from all the beliefs he has had about society so far. Finally, Jamshid’s head appears first, and then they go to Pasha’s room. Just like in noir films; he passes by several halls and rooms with furniture, billiard tables, tables for various types of gambling, and sections dedicated to boxing, and arrives at Pasha’s room, which is filled with the smell of various cigarettes and the smell of sausage sandwiches, soda, chips, shallot yogurt, and things like that that change Hadi’s mood.
His usual rosary is clenched in his fist, and he gives forced laughter to the happy Jamshid, Shangol, and the careless Pasha. Pasha is still not focused like he was in school. It’s as if he is somewhere else. He is constantly talking on his cell phone. And he doesn’t stay long and leaves Hadi alone with Jamshid. But that night, in a quiet moment, Pasha points to the mole on Hadi’s hand. And they remember that in school Pasha always said to Hadi: “You are the only one.”
It is not known how that night will end. Hadi is restless in the classroom. In the prayer room, as soon as the congregational prayer in the seminary ends, he takes out his mobile phone and goes to Twitter and virtual environments, staring at the profile picture of the princess who is his teacher’s daughter and her latest tweets and sentences, which are in English; and most of the time his head is in his own hair and has nothing to do with what other students are saying.
The next conversation between Mojtaba and Hadi revolves around the proposal that if they give up the stall, how much of this money will go to Mojtaba and how much of a stake can he put in and go invest in Pasha’s nameless gambling den and rent a gambling table. And this was Jamshid’s proposal. That if the table is yours, the entire stakes of that table every night will be yours. And that Jamshid now has three gambling tables and some sports equipment in that club. And that there are never any corrections officers or premises officers here; because originally this floor was part of the additional parking lot and now it has been changed and everyone is silent in this building. And Pasha, as Jamshid says, keeps the guard’s mustache greased, and many others; and the like.
One Friday morning, the early autumn air in the park is so pleasant that the fountains in the pond and the gardeners who are watering the trees and flowers are enjoying it and are treating the wind to their faces as if the morning wind has brought news from heaven.
One night, Hadi is sitting in the stall and it is late at night; the same coupe car happens to stop. Pasha gets out. Hadi immediately puts on his knitted hat with a brim and a mask from the typhus era that covers his entire face and stands in the shade. Pasha buys a pack of cigarettes. And counts the money for two packs. And says: “If you happen to see our friend who was standing here a few days ago, give him this and tell him that I have never seen a more cheerful person than you in my life. Then tell him that we had to give up the entire club; with one signature. It was between life and death. We had to. Say hello to him and tell him that I am going over there. But if he has anything to do, he can call me; Through Jamshid. Jamshid stays here without anything. He became a partner with Yarou. They became half and half together. But it doesn’t matter. I think he was a good, bad boy. Tell him I’m very loyal to him. But soon there will be news in your newspapers that he should take care of himself. Tell him he’s alone. He knows what it means.” And Hadi’s gaze goes to his right hand and covers it with his left. For a brief moment, both heads forward. Pasha has gotten into his car and turned it on and we see him driving away in the twilight, the only car on the street, away from where we are, and with the telephoto lens his movement seems slower and the taillights whose light is unclear in this image of Flo.
One lonely afternoon in the park, in the park’s bathroom, Hadi is neatly folding his turban and robe to put in his handbag; with a heavy heart, with a sadness and resentment buried in him. The sound of gunfire comes from outside. We are in the park. Hadi is standing in front of the bathroom. Several young men are running from the street, terrified, and coming into the park, and one of them is coming toward the bathroom to take shelter. And from a short distance away, we see a special guard officer enter the park with a machine gun. He is looking for the young men. And he happens to be running after the same young man who was running toward the bathroom. In a moment that we don’t understand how it happened, the officer takes aim, the bullet comes out of the gun, and just as the young man enters the bathroom, the bullet hits Hadi and Hadi falls to the ground. And his handbag is spread out next to him, and his white turban has a small blood stain on the newspaper he was wrapped in. And the newspaper is turning redder and redder. And that’s it.
Author: B. Khosravani
It is recalled that any copying and extraction of these ideas, from an ethical and legal perspective, is only possible by mentioning the address, and use for performance will only be possible if the author’s written consent is obtained.