Epiphanies

By Haleh Rafi

Understanding life and its realities has always been difficult, not only for children but also for those who are considered as adults. Epiphanies is a collection of short stories that portrays challenges of life and illustrates how events can lead to some 'Aha' moments!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Feb 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781528993111

Haleh Rafi

Haleh Rafi is a lifelong storyteller, educator, researcher, and pianist. Her love of literature and spirituality and her experiences in education, from early childhood through higher education, has led to several published book chapters and journal articles. Her storytelling approach to life has inspired a published collection of short stories titled Epiphanies, where she explored intuitive grasps of reality in everyday experiences. Haleh Rafi grew up in Iran and went on a journey of immigration to different countries before finally landing in Melbourne, Australia. She is still a teacher and researcher who is captivating her audience with her storytelling voice or drawing their attention with the expressive sound of her piano.

Book preview

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About the Author

Haleh Rafi is a teacher who has taught in early childhood, primary, secondary and higher education. Her teaching approach is storytelling.

She received her first PhD in Iran in English Language and Literature, and her second PhD in Australia where she studied Natural Spirituality as an educational process.

She is currently living in Melbourne, Australia and works as a research assistant and teaching associate in Monash University.

Dedication

To Shahram, Shahrzad and Maman

Thank you for your never-ending support.

And to the bright light in all of us

Copyright Information ©

Haleh Rafi (2020)

The right of Haleh Rafi to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528993104 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528993111 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2020)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Acknowledgment

I am deeply grateful to my wonderful family, my fantabulous friends and my superb students who read (or listed to) my stories, helped me write them better and encouraged me to move on and publish them.

I am especially thankful to Jacqueline Young – my artist friend in Monash University – who, after reading The Goldfish, magically turned my story into first a drawing and then a painting. I never knew that a story could be so amazingly portrayed in a picture. I put the drawing before the first story, and used the painting as the book cover. (You are great Jacqui!)

The Goldfish

They say war is a horrible thing but I suppose this is not true when it is spring and trees are in full bloom, and there is no school, so you can spend the whole day—every day—playing with your best friend doing whatever you want. Having a friend like Elnaz was the best thing that could have happened to me. She was generous, kind-hearted and smart; a sort of friend who did not talk much, but always had something good to say. She was also a courageous and adventurous girl, and had a great sense of humour. She usually took the initiative in our games. We were like a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

The planes came every night and bombed the city. My mum hysterically counted as the bombs hit the ground with a loud ‘Boom!’ One. Pause. Two. Pause. Three. Long pause. Some nights she counted to eight or nine. Sometimes the sound of’Boom’ was louder than expected. At such times she would nervously say: That was close. She was really scared of the bombing.

Most people had already left the city. Those who stayed went to their basements when they heard the siren. The electricity was shut off and the city remained in complete darkness. During the blackouts, no one was allowed to light a candle or even a match, as the dimmest light might have given away the position of the city to the planes. Our house did not have a basement, so we stayed in the house but in order to avoid the windows, we slept in the windowless hallway.

It was fun when Elnaz slept over at ours. We lay down next to each other, sharing one blanket, and talked until late. We were not afraid of the bombs and no matter how much Mum worried, we managed to make her laugh at our jokes. Elnaz tried to comfort my mum by explaining how small the chance was that a bomb would strike our house in such a big city. She said the probability of having a car accident was much higher than being killed by a bomb. In fact, we had heard that many people fleeing the city because of the bombing had accidents on the road and lost their lives.

At night, I also brought our goldfish to the hallway. People buy goldfish for the Persian New Year, as is custom in Iran, but the fish usually do not live for more than a few months. Ours, however, had already lived for two years; perhaps because we loved her so much. We kept her in a big crystal bowl and changed the water every other day. We also bought special fish food for her, although it was very expensive for us. She was a little flabby and that made her even more adorable. Every morning, we greeted the goldfish and played with her. She had learnt to come to the surface when we touched the water. She kissed our fingers with her lips. It tickled.

Elnaz’s father was a photographer. He had a shop where he took photographs of people. They came for passport or ID photos and occasionally for family portraits. As the schools were closed due to the bombings, he gave us a camera to practice photography. The camera was old, but it had an adjustable lens. He taught us how to use the zoom and how to choose frames. He also gave us a roll of film that held 24 exposures and asked us to take some good pictures. Having only 24 frames to shoot made us pick our subjects with fastidious care. We made sure not to take more than three photographs a day. Elnaz and I discussed the angle and framing for a long time, then took the photos meticulously. The first photograph we took was of the goldfish kissing my fingertip.

In our street, which was a dead-end, only three families were left: mine, Elnaz’s and Mr Jafari’s and Mr Jafari left as soon as he found