I have told this story to some of my very
good friends, but they found it hard to believe.
They think maybe it was just a dream or it is
just made of my imagination, but I know it was neither. Though it happened a
long time ago, its memory is so alive and vivid in my mind as if it had happened
yesterday.
I was a teenage boy when I went to visit my
aunt, who was living in a very remote village near a mountain in the west of
Iran. It was mid-August. I remember one night when I was lying on the rooftop
of my auntie’s hut in the bed I used to escape the heat of the house. The gentle,
fresh breeze was so relaxing; my eyes were wandering among thousands and
thousands of glittering stars; the Moon was in its full; the whole village and
its surrounding gardens and fields and mountain were bright under the moonlight.
I could even see a flock of sheep and goats just outside the village.
Just then, I saw a shooting star descend near
the village! Of course I knew it couldn’t be the case, but just the thought of
it was exciting, I knew, by experience of stars, how we can be tricked by our
senses. If you stare at stars for a quite a while where the sky is thick with them,
you feel they are might come so close that you can pick them with your fingers.
OUCH! I burnt my finger again
That night, for some peculiar reason, I
wasn't sleepy at all and I decided to go out for a walk. I have very rarely been
outside of the village at night. I chose to venture outside the village since I
had to get back to my city fairly soon and might not have had another chance. I left the rooftop and then the mud-built
house. After a short while I found myself walking towards the colossal mountain.
It looked so different at night. I knew my way since climbing the mountain was
one of my favourite ways of spending the afternoon. But still I felt cautious,
so I decided to go as far as a fountain where I used to swim on my way back to
the village, located midway to the top of the mountain, behind a huge rock. I climbed
slowly, immersed in the mysterious feeling of being there in the middle of the
night, on my own.
Then, I heard a very gentle song which I felt
was coming through the breeze from the mountain. At first, I thought I was just imagining
things, but as I continued to walk and got closer to the fountain I could hear
the delicate song more clearly. No, I was actually hearing the song! I climbed the rock, since this was the place the
song was coming from. When I reached the top and could see the shining and
limpid water of the fountain under the moonlight, I was stunned by what met my
eyes. It was the Moon, bathing naked in
the fountain and gently singing. Her
naked milky body was shining under her moonlight, and her round and firm bosom
was in harmony with the curves of her body.
Her soft, straight, light-coloured hair was covering her back down to
her curve, and a gentle breeze was carrying her softly sung song. I was mesmerized by the scene I was observing.
Suddenly, one of my feet slid a bit and a
little stone rolled away, taking some stones with itself and falling off the
rock away from the mountain. The Moon
heard and looked up to where I was standing. When she saw me, she blushed all
over, rushed out of the pool and hid herself behind a piece of a cloud. That night, no one could see the Moon
anymore.
Since then, any night when the Moon is full
and the moonlight shines all over hamlets, fields, rivers and deserts, she will
look at the fountain behind the rock, remember that night, and gently blush. Everyone
wonders why, but since no one knows, they make up incredible stories. For
example, when the hunting days are over and they are gathering round a fire
with the full moon above, the Native American children who live near the
Mississippi River see the Moon blush and curiously ask the wise men why. The
wise men, who are supposed to know everything, answer: the Moon is covered with
mysterious wild white flowers, and when the Moon is in her full, it is the only
night she can sleep and dream of her long-gone lover. In that dream, anytime
she imagines the time she met and first fell in love with him, the wild white
flowers turn red.
.
Some tribes in the desert, on cool nights in
summer, lie on the sand, for a while forget the burning heat of the day, and
wonder at the only garden they can have – one planted by thousands of
glittering stars. Here, the grannies tell their curious children why the Moon
becomes red when she is in her full.
They say that at the beginning there were two sister moons, one prettier
than the other. One night, one of them fell in love with a shepherd on a wild
mountain. Their father, who was later punished for his crime and banished for
life to no-one-knows-where, stabbed the loving Moon to death for violating the
sacred rules.
The blood of her murdered sister splashed on
the Moon when she was in her full, so every night when the Moon is in her full
we see her sister’s blood on her face.
Some villagers who live in a valley near Mesopotamia
have an incredible story of why the Moon goes red. They say that the Moon is in
love with the Son of a goddess who lost his way in the darkness of the galaxy,
and every month when she's most visible, she sets fire so he may find his way
back to her.
And some scientists try to explain the gentle
blushing of the Moon by studying the capacity of the Moon’s rocks to reflect
the Sun.
But there are just two people who know the
real story. The first one cannot talk and even if she could, she wouldn’t admit
to it, and when the other one tells the real story no one
believes him. But...but maybe it is better that way. Since no one knows the real story, everyone
will make their own. Any time in the cool nights of deserts, fresh nights of
the mountains and breezy nights of the forests, when the Moon is in her full
and grandmas and grandpas are asked by their grandchildren why the Moon
blushes, they will have more stories to tell. And anytime their children meet
each other and tell their stories, all think that it is theirs which is real. And
who knows – maybe one day, people will believe my story...
