سفر Travel

We were travelling by coach from Poland to England. .I was the only Iranian amongst passengers. The rest were English, Scottish and three Polish.

The driver was behaving strange. He was exceeding the speed, playing loud polish music on the coach’s music player. Some time danced his head and shoulders to the tune of music while driving.

I sensed that English passengers were tense and stiffly holding arms of their seats.
At one stage the driver switched off the music player, parked the coach in a parking space on the motorway, asked all passengers to accompanying him,  to sing Polands National anthem.

Poland has not yet succumbed.
As long as we remain,
What the foe by force has seized,
Sword in hand we'll gain. 

March! March, Dabrowski!
March from Italy to Poland!
Under your command
We shall reach our land.

Cross the Vistula and Warta
And Poles we shall be;
We've been shown by Bonaparte
Ways to victory.

The seat next to me was empty. I had lay down on the seats and resting my feet on the arm of next adjacent seat to mine. As the driver was imposing his will upon us, and coming toward us, I closed my eyed and pretended asleep.

Driver shook my feet, demanding: wake up we all have to sing polish national anthem. I stay still and kept my eyes closed, pretended asleep, hence refused to comply with his wish

Driver angrily tied my feet to arms of the seat by seat’s strap and continued to force other passenger to sing with him. I sensed English and Scottish were singing against their will.

After staying in that position while he was imposing his wish upon passenger, I released my feet, got up, angrily from top my deep voice ordered him to take his driving seat. At first he tried to refuse taking order from me though he was shocked from my sudden move and scream.

I could tell he was shocked by seeing his face was turned pale.

“Bloody Iranian terrorist” He murmured while trying repositioning himself and regains his confidence.

I ignored his stupid and absurd remarks, did not give him a chance, “Take a sit” I shouted from top of my voice, pointing with my index finger to the driver seat.

A few moments later he was behind the wheel in sitting position and I was standing next to him, with my right hand I grabbed his tie and collar tightly, pushing hard against his chest, telling aggressively, “never ever tie me to a seat again, never ever. Do you under stand? Do you?

“This is my coach, my country; you ought to follow my rule “he mumbled shackingly

“I have paid for those two seats for a period of travelling from Warsaw to London” I stressed angrily “so legally part of your time and those seats are mine and you have to observe driving safety and code of practice as well as my comfort till we reach London”

The word “legally “and my way of reasoning and stressing had an impact on him and somehow shattered his resistance. I could tell this by noticing his arms and legs were slacken behind the steering wheel on his seat, looking like a little school boy in the hand of an aggressive teacher.

“Never ever ask me or any passenger to sing your national anthem” I stressed aggressively “do you under stand… do you?”

While I was in an eaglestic posture and holding my prey firm, from corner of my eye glanced at passengers I saw a shadow of smile on English passengers’ lips, and Scottish passenger murmuring” do you understand? Do you?”

But three polish passengers were very uptight. I could tell this by seeing frown on their face. At one stage one of them who was tall and had a beige rain coat on raised from his seat. “Leave him alone” shouted he

“Shut up” I shouted back “sit down. I confidently manage the stage very well. He sat and failed to take any further action in helping his country man the driver. I could tell the tension that was building up amongst those three Polish passengers, by seeing them sitting stiffly upright and clinging to the back of head resting in front of them.

“Never ever cross my freedom rights, by imposing your will upon me…” I stressed forcefully and tactically “don’t push your nationalistic ego on passenger. Do you understand? Do you?” I shouted at driver puling his tie and collar tighter

“Do you understand? Do you” repeated Scottish passengers with Scottish accent. The English calmly had a shadow of satisfaction. I could guess by seeing a slight smile on their lips.

“Now drive normal and safe” I commanded, let free his tie and collar and went sat on my seat. While English and Scottish chanting “do you understand? Do you?”

The driver drew in the slow lane normal as any sensible driver do. Every one was relaxed and happy, except those polish passengers, as if their nationalistic pride had been chipped

The driver still had those frown between his eyebrows. But he was driving perfectly. No jerking and no bull shitting. I was satisfied with my action proudly and leaned back watching landscapes from window. Both side of motorway was covered a forest of pine tree. The winter snow of a night before had shelved on dark green leafs of pine trees. A mild sun shining from east was shining onto the forest from the east. It was such a wonderful day and scene

At one stage we reached a sharp bend in the motor way. The driver all of sudden accelerated sharply like a mad. The coach skidded slipped out of road, hit a tree and splited into two halves. Passengers were scattered all over places. Blood splashed on coaches’ windows and everywhere. My arms were dislocated and my head was bleeding badly. I could hardly breathe. I saw death walking towards me, in a commanding tone saying “do you understand? Do you...”

15 January 2007

/ 20 نظر / 2 بازدید
نمایش نظرات قبلی
The reading joy


لذت شنیدن

[گل] http://sinzalse.blogspot.com/2008/11/dance-me-to-end-of-love.html [گل]

لذت شنیدن

[گل] http://sinzalse.blogspot.com/2008/11/knocking-on-heavens-door.html [گل]


is it yours? The writing style reminds me the book by Tomos Hardy, Tess of Du bervill

علي طالبيان

فریدون عزیز. خیلی خوشحالم که هنوز مرا فراموش نکرده ای. غیبت من از وبلاگ نویسی تنها به خاطر درگیریهای روزمره و سختیهای زندگی در این مملکت است و اینکه فکر می کنم خیلی از مطالعه و تحقیق دور مانده ام و چیز جدیدی برای ارائه ندارم. با اینحال میخوام دوباره شروع کنم اگر زندگی مهلت دهد.


اول - من شباهتی بین این داستان سفر و داستان تس از دوبرویل نمی بینم. [تعجب] واقعن تعجب می کنم از جنین مقایسه ای توماس هاردی کجا و من کجا ؟[سوال] دوم - فیلم تس از دوبرویل را دیده ام و یکی از زیبا ترین فیلم هایی بوده است که تا کنون دیده ام. این گونه داستان ها و فیلم ها را خیلی دوست دارم.

لذت شنیدن

تقدیم می کنم به فریدون عزیز http://sinzalse.blogspot.com/2008/11/ppna-landskap.html [گل]


آهنگ های بسیار خوبی را انتخاب کرده ای . آهنگ هایی که ترانه شان سر شار از اندیشه ای ژرف و دوست داشتنی ست. [گل] چشم انداز (منظره ) رقصان مرا تا نهایت عشق ببر زدن بر دروازه عرش زادگاه ام رود خانه [دست][گل] Bruce Springsteen آهنگ دیگری هم به نام Mrs. Mcgrath دارد که زیبا و پر معنی است [گل]

سوسن جعفری

هومم ... می‌گم که ... برم ترنس‌لیت کنم دِن کام‌بک کنم و کامنت رایت کنم؟ می آی دو؟ سو ... بای دِن![لبخند]


as a reader ita me who should say his viewpoint about ur text, it's here for this, isn't it? [چشمک] I've seen the movie too, it's too long to cover the most ditails,I think. I didn't like it. there's another film from Thomos Hardy's book, Jude, have u seen it?