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 Ninety-Ninth
Medium Short Film
We will see a few months of two lives (for now we are considering Tehran. But it could be any other city).
Rahim has come to Tehran from Qazvin to pick up passengers in his scrap Pride. A Pride that has just paid its last installment. And all four sides of it are random. And it doesn’t have a radio. And the passengers are mostly between the West Terminal and the South Terminal. Because Rahim, if he has been to Tehran four or five times in his entire life, only remembers that area. Maybe he comes from a poor family in the villages around Hashtgerd, Qazvin. And his family probably works in seasonal jobs and peddling, like selling sweets. We don’t know.
When he first arrives in Tehran, he must have slept in this Pride; and later, he gradually shares a room with a few strangers who probably take turns in the same room. These are details that are like unwritten stories for us, and in this film, these details are not important and we absolutely do not need them.
The plot of this story is parallel. Although its focus is on Rahim’s fate.
In the very first experiences of this passenger transport in Tehran, one day when several young passengers are having various conversations about the living conditions and the high cost of living and the pride of not having a radio, and the heat of the weather and how much the fares are and how much they used to be, and things like that, a strong man rides in the back, whose name we later learn is “Aziz Khan.” And of course, we will never know his real name.
That day, this Aziz Khan realizes Rahim’s simplicity, desperation, and newbie from the passengers’ conversations. When he sees that he does not know the fare rates and that the passengers are cheating him one after another. Finally, he comes from the back to the front seat and, at a time when there are no passengers, he offers Rahim, in a non-verbal manner, to cooperate with him on the condition that he does not ask anything.
And in this way, Rahim becomes his contact for smuggling alcohol from Islamshahr to Tehran. And that too at night. And from different places. Each time from a warehouse and a garage and the basement of a house. And he must never ask whose name the other party is. And he must be extremely careful. And that the bottles are placed in cloth and in black garbage bags and the boxes are placed in chip cartons. Rahim must not enter those houses and warehouses themselves. He only goes as close as possible to the house and garage. And each time, he has a mobile number. And he himself regularly gives his SIM cards to Aziz Khan. And Aziz Khan himself has to call Rahim. And in short, such a situation that we do not have much to do with this and he has no place in our film. To the extent that Rahim has become the so-called “butler”; that’s it.
And in this way, Rahim becomes his contact for smuggling from Islamshahr to Tehran. And that too at night. And from different places. Each time from a warehouse and a garage and the basement of a house. And he must never ask whose name the other party is. And extreme caution. And that the bottles are placed in cloth and in black garbage bags and the boxes are placed in chip cartons. Rahim must not enter those houses and warehouses themselves. He only goes as close as possible to the house and garage. And each time, he has a mobile phone number. And he himself regularly gives his SIM cards to Aziz Khan. And Aziz Khan himself has to call Rahim. And in short, such a situation that we have little to do with this and he has no place in our film.
On the other hand, we have the life of Colonel Azdanlou. In his old apartment in Shahr-Ara. A retired colonel from the Shah’s era. From the Guards. His house is very old, dusty and smoky. The photo frames on the wall, each large and small, are of the colonel in a uniform and a sword. The same sword that is in the sheath on the wall. The photos on the niche are of the Shah, Farah and Ashraf. And, as the colonel himself says, His Majesty the Queen and Queen Ashraf. In his old photo album, which is torn, there are similar photos. And also photos of the colonel’s youth and half a crown. Half a crown with a swimsuit by the sea. And half a crown next to the Minister of Health in the Lion and Sun crowd. Half a crown with foreigners in the Red Cross. Half a crown next to the Shah’s sister.
On the other hand, we have the life of Colonel Azdanlou. In his old apartment in Shahr-Ara. A retired colonel from the Shah’s era. From the Guards. His house is very old, dusty, and smoky. The picture frames on the wall, large and small, are of the colonel in his uniform and a sword. The same sword that is in the sheath on the wall. In his old photo album, which is torn, there are many photos from parties. And also photos of the colonel’s youth and half a crown. Half a crown in a swimsuit by the sea. And half a crown next to the Minister of Health. Half a crown with foreigners. Half a crown next to the king’s sister.
Nim Taj was Armenian. And she never officially married the colonel. They don’t have any children. Nim Taj has been dead for years. And a nurse does the colonel’s work. Now his nurse is a girl named Malika. Who is the colonel’s granddaughter. But she doesn’t mind being married and inheriting this apartment. Before her, there was another nurse named Munir. The colonel loved her so much that he still calls Malika Munir when he wants to. The colonel doesn’t have much intelligence or senses left because he is a heavy alcoholic. When he opens his eyes in the morning, before he goes to the bathroom, he has to have a can of gin next to him. He wets his lips. And then he can open his eyes. Most of the time, his hair is messy and he doesn’t even bother to change his pajamas. And if Malika forces him to change clothes or maybe go to the bathroom after weeks. The building guard helps her take her to the bathroom. And she gets a sum of money. The house purchase is Malika’s responsibility. But she can shop at the supermarket, greengrocer’s, and bakery up to a certain limit. The money and accounting are the responsibility of the Colonel’s brother’s wife. The Colonel’s half-brother, who is sick and dying. He has a wife who comes to manage the affairs of this house. And he also calculates Malika’s salary. A salary that is exactly two-thirds of the Colonel’s own salary. This brother’s wife tells Malika that she should pour it into cans of water to dilute it. Shakiba, whom the Colonel and everyone call Shuka Jan. Shuka Jan is a master at distinguishing the flavors of vermouth and all kinds of cocktails. And he expects Malika to be able to distinguish them too. Once or twice a month, Shuka comes and sits at the poker table and talks to the Colonel about how the Colonel used to cheat and cheat and win at the same table, and memories like that. Once Shuka tells the Colonel that he wishes he had married Nim Taj, at least you would have received the bank money and his lands in Urmia. And the Colonel just wants to forget about it and go to sleep. He doesn’t even have the patience for Shuka anymore. And lately, he doesn’t even have the patience to go to the bathroom. And sometimes he has caused trouble for Malika.
Nim Taj was Armenian. And she was never officially married to the Colonel. They don’t have any children. Nim Taj has been dead for years. And a nurse does the Colonel’s work. Now his nurse is a girl named Malika. Who is the Colonel’s granddaughter. But she doesn’t mind if they read a marriage contract and she inherits this apartment. Before her, there was another nurse named Munir. The Colonel loved her so much that he still calls Malika Munir when she wants to call him. The Colonel doesn’t have much intelligence or senses left because he is a heavy alcoholic. In the mornings, when he opens his eyes, before he goes to the bathroom, he has to have a can of gin next to him. He wets his lips. And then he can open his eyes. Most of the time, his hair is messy and he doesn’t even bother to change his pajamas. And Malika doesn’t force him to change clothes or go to the bathroom after weeks. The building’s security guard helps him take his bath. And he gets a little money. Buying a house is Malika’s responsibility. But up to a certain limit, she can buy from the supermarket, greengrocer, and local bakery. The Colonel’s brother’s wife is responsible for the money and the accounts. The Colonel’s half-brother, who is sick and dying himself. He has a wife who comes to manage the house. And he also calculates Malika’s salary. The salary is exactly two-thirds of the Colonel’s own salary. This woman tells Malika that she should pour it into cans of water to dilute it. The Colonel and everyone call her Shoka Jan. Shoka Jan is a master at distinguishing the flavors of vermouth and other brands. And he expects Malika to be able to distinguish them too. Once or twice a month, when Shoka comes, they sit at the poker table and talk to the Colonel about how the Colonel used to cheat and win by trickery, and memories like that since they were at this same table, at the head of the passerby. Once, Shoka tells the Colonel that he wishes he had married a half-crown, at least you would have received the bank money and his lands in Urmia. And the Colonel just wants to forget and go to sleep. He doesn’t even have the patience for Shoka anymore. And lately, he’s even been reluctant to go to the bathroom. And sometimes, he’s caused trouble for Malika.
The Colonel is one of Aziz Khan’s old clients. Now Rahim must take on this mission. Once or twice, when Rahim comes to Malika with fear, trembling, and embarrassment, everything seems strange to him. Although his throat is stuck, he does not feel good about the fact that Shoka is there from time to time and that he has to settle accounts with Shoka. There have also been several times when the Colonel has been alone. And of course, sometimes it is a day when he is in a bad mood, which turns bitter like an almond, as Malika says, and sometimes a day when he is cheerful, cheerful, and passionately in love with everything that is and is not, and he wishes Rahim to come and sit down and make a clean-up. And an invitation that for Rahim is like choosing the moment of life and death. And seeing the photo album. And his heart beating for Malika and the delicious smell of her food. And Malika, busy with her mobile phone in her kitchen and bedroom, ignoring Rahim. And of course, a few initial conversations between the two. And sometimes a CD is exchanged. Because Rahim has bought a radio. And the memory of the Colonel’s games that ends in sleep. And Rahim has to go because when it gets close to dawn, his work is closed. And the rest of the customers are waiting.
But this period, like the rest of people’s lives, does not last long, and one day when Rahim carries two dozen boxes of lemon essential oil cans with a box of chips up the stairs, Malika opens the door and sees that everything has been covered with sheets. And Malika is also sitting in a coat waiting for Shoka, and there is no sign of the Colonel. He finished early in the week. His self-imposed forgetfulness is eternal. Now Malika has to go to the company and ask to be transferred to another place. And when Shoka comes, he will settle the matter. And not only did the Colonel not marry Malika, but he has also registered this apartment in Shoka’s name for the past month. During those three days of Malika’s leave, Shuka came and brought the bookkeeper with his notebook to this very house and got the colonel’s signature. And Malika, who doesn’t want to see Shuka. And Rahim, whose heart is in turmoil. Like that wall with the empty space for the sword on it. And also the poker table without that antique box with the inlaid cards of the cards. Or the empty space for a few other antiques on the colonel’s sideboard that makes his heart go crazy; that is, just as quickly! And yet, he dares to ask Malika for her number.
But this period, like the rest of people’s lives, doesn’t last long, and one day, when Rahim carries two dozen boxes of lemon essential oil cans with a box of chips up the stairs, Malika opens the door and sees that everything has been covered with sheets. And Malika is also sitting in a coat waiting for Shuka, and there is no sign of the colonel. She finished early this week. Her self-imposed forgetfulness is permanent. Now Malika has to go to the company and ask to be transferred to another place. And when Shoka comes, he will settle the matter. And not only did the Colonel not marry Malika, but he has also registered this very apartment in Shoka’s name for the past month. During Malika’s three days of leave, Shoka came and brought the housekeeper with his notary to this very house and got the Colonel’s signature. And Malika, who can’t wait to see Shoka. And Rahim, whose heart is in turmoil. Like that wall with the empty space for the sword left on it. And also the poker table without that antique carved box for playing cards. Or the empty space for a few other antiques on the Colonel’s sideboard that makes his heart flutter; that is, just as quickly! And yet, he dares to ask Malika for her number.
Rahim has been an alcoholic for a long time now. He first touched alcohol in this house. And it was thanks to this same Malika that he wouldn’t throw away the previous cans to report to Shuka that there were twenty-four. While each time there were fewer and fewer. And Rahim wouldn’t hand over some of them until he was bored and went to a deserted dirt road near Qom Road. To sit and relieve his loneliness in the summer heat with these gins that make his head burn and his veins seem to open one by one. And the back of his throat burns and his soul wants to burst from the fire of passion for the miseries of all the people in that city above him. And his hand runs over the number on the paper. And when he dials the number with his old, battered mobile phone, there is no answer except “The number you are calling is not available on the network.” That means Malika also jumped out of his life.
And it is at this moment that Rahim stands on the edge of a cliff, just as the sun is setting, and for us who see him from a distance, he has become a reflection of the light. And it is as if he wants to throw himself off the cliff. And after a heartbreaking pause, he throws the can into the air towards the sun. 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.