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Los Angeles Times Valley Edition | Glendale News-Press | 2004 December 25
Green-eyed maiden delivers the sword
BY PATRICK AZADIAN
This was Ryan's first ethnic wedding; and it was his first wedding on Christmas Day. The closest he had come to seeing one of these things was when one of his college buddies had married a Macedonian girl from Romania. He still wasn't sure how she could have been Macedonian if she was from Romania, but Alexandra had always insisted she was Macedonian. And Ryan rarely argued with beautiful women. The only other Macedonian he knew of was Alexander the Great. And he wasn't even sure about him. His Canadian-Greek friends from Vancouver always insisted Alexander was Greek. It didn't really matter; Ryan enjoyed being around all sorts of people.
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The wedding guests were cooperative, as they always are.
On this special night, the groom is king and the bride is truly a queen. There are no enemies in sight, no malicious comments, and all the evil eyes are temporarily out of service until the next morning.
Unprecedented harmony and unity prevailed at this royal court. At the hall's altar, the wooden table separated the nobility from the plebs.
Beyond the physical barrier, the masses had formed a perfectly rectangular open space for the sacrificial Raghseh Chaghoo ("Dance of the Knife" in Persian); it would mark the beginning of togetherness for the newlyweds.
Mike, the stereotypical immigrant waiter was wearing the official uniform of his profession: glistening sweat on the forehead, black pleated pants, a white cotton shirt, and a pair of black leatherette shoes purchased for him by his kind and hard-working wife. The outfit was also perfect for his night shift as a valet on Glendale Boulevard.
Mike faithfully delivered the sword to the green-eyed maiden. He had attached a pink rose to the shiny sacrificial weapon in a proletarian manner; it was his gift to the bride and the groom.
Tahminé accepted the sharp device and bowed her head with genuine humility. She was the atypical Persian beauty: fair skin, chestnut hair, and a set of green eyes capable of tempting the most decorated of the generals in the court of the Achaemenid dynasty. She was the type of the specimen who would have been the perfect candidate for conversion by the American missionaries in the beginning of 20th century. She would fit in perfectly in the Midwest; no one would ever know she was a foreigner.
Tahminé made a graceful half-circular turn to face the groom. She was now in the hollow space reserved for her by the beaming crowd. She bowed again, gave the groom a bashful smile and took a step forward.
She gently raised the sword for everyone to see, and began her mesmerizing dance toward the nobility. She moved effortlessly with the sounds of the exotic melodies from the land of Cyrus the Great. The music reflected the influences of all the past masters of her land, the Macedonians, the Arabs, the Mongols, the Turks, the British, and most recently, the Americans. Tahminé's every corporal joint had embraced the music unconditionally.
The sword was finally carried to the king in return for shabash ('a respectful tip in form of paper currency' in Persian).
The time had arrived for the sacrifice to be made. The bride and the groom, Marjan and Kaveh, held the shiny weapon together, and mercilessly pressed the sword into the white body of the sacrificial victim. There was no scream, not a sound, not even a peep.
The crowd applauded; the king and the queen had been appeased _ and the fluffy wedding cake had finally been cut.
It was now official; Marjan and Kaveh could start their life together as a sweet journey.
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Later, the bride and groom picked out Ryan in the crowd for a special thanks. He was the only one there that officially celebrated Christmas:
"Ryan, thank you for coming. We know it's Christmas. And very Merry Christmas to you."
"No problem, my family lives in Boston. Thanks for having me."
Some of Ryan's thoughts were still with Alexander: "Have you two seen the movie 'Alexander?' "
"No, we haven't," Kaveh responded.
"Are the Persians in the movie portrayed as uni-browed bad guys?" Marjan asked.
"We won't know until we see it, Marjan. But I wouldn't think so," Kaveh stepped in to diffuse the tension.
"OK, let's all go see it," Marjan compromised, as most new brides do.
"Let's see how Alexander conquers the world," Ryan said. He was happy he had a potential social activity planned for the day after Christmas.
Meanwhile, Mike was standing by with Ryan's portion of the cake.
"Your cake, sir."
"Thanks, buddy."
Mike had an unsolicited comment: "Alexander never set foot in Armenia. So technically he did not conquer the world. He considered the highlands too rough and the warriors too fierce."
"Is that so?" Ryan responded.
Marjan had a smirk on her face. Mike had found an unexpected ally in the independent-minded queen.
And for the second time in one day, the wise king had to step in: "May I have some more cake please?"
"Yes sir, of course."
And Ryan moved in to close the deal: "Since there is no honeymoon, let's see the movie tomorrow . . . "
Copyright 2004 Glendale News Press
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