
Ahmad Mirza-Khani, 29, taxi driver, Isfahan, Iran.
“I’m from the countryside, a village near Daroon, the western-most point of the province of Isfahan. We’re way up in the mountains; you can get 1.5 meters of snow up there.
“I used to be in farming. But like so many others one year the crops failed and I just gave up. I came to the city [Isfahan] and bought this car to haul passengers.
“The problem with this kind of living, though, is that I keep meeting women who end up taking instead of paying. Instead of taking them to their destination, I end up spending half the day at restaurants buying them ice-cream.
“It doesn’t go further, though. I just don’t want it to go further. And in any case, something mysterious always happens that blocks the way. It’s really strange.
“The greatest loss of my life is losing my wife [to divorce]. For five years we lived like two love birds. I don’t think we fought for so much as 10 minutes in that entire time.
“But her mother started interfering when I had heart surgery and we had to move back to the village to make ends meet. Her mother felt her daughter should live in the city. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you had heart trouble?’ she kept asking. I even took her to my doctor to tell her I didn’t have heart trouble before we got married.
“But the last time my wife went to visit her parents, her mother didn’t let her come back. It was painful.
“I would go to get her back, but too many things have been said and done. Under the spell of her family, she called me names, even smacked my face in front of the judge. She lost in court because she got caught in her own lies and now she is sending indirect messages that she wants me back.
“But I figure if she fell under the spell once, it could happen again. I want peace in my life, not fighting with her family.

“In Iran, you don’t just marry a woman; you marry her family too. In a way, I was married to her mother too. Ironically, immediately after she took back her jaheezeh, her father, who was against the divorce, had a heart attack and died. It should’ve been the mother.
“Iranians hold grudges. Once it’s past a certain point, they won’t be civil. They become revengeful. They won’t forgive and forget.
“I did some stupid things too. I found out her sister-in-law was constantly on the phone with others once her husband left the house. I confronted her and told her not to do it again. But then she went and told the opposite to her husband and my wife’s family. Now I was known as the cheater. Anonymous people kept calling my wife and bothering us. My wife believed them not me.
“My wife was only 14 when I married her. I was 23. She knew absolutely nothing. I had to teach her everything. I had read a lot all my life and knew a few things about psychology. I taught her how to deal with people, how to act in company of others, even how to sew and cook. I knew all that already from living on my own.
“Just when she was well-taught and ready for life, I lost her.
“And over what? Because her mom wanted the city for her daughter. But now her daughter is in the village without a husband and I’m back in the city all alone. Talk about irony.
“Being single has its charms. In America, I’m sure you have a lot of fun. But no matter how much fun you have, someday you realize that all along you lacked something precious—being part of a family. We’re better off being with others. It’s in our nature.
“Instead of thinking of the externalities when choosing a wife, try to find a friend, a companion, someone who’s there when you come home tired and upset, and she sits next to you and asks, ‘Ali Agha, tell me about you day. What is it that’s bothering you?’”