A pink taxi

A pink taxi

December 6, 2010

Number 3

My aunt was born in the fifties but she will always remain 29 for me. She came as the third daughter in a very large family and always had the reputation of the quiet, good girl amongst her siblings. She was the first to get married and she traveled far, to California from Iran, even before Los Angeles became "Tehrangeles". Her redheaded daughter is very proud to have been born there!

Their next child was a a son, a Rod Stewart meets Eminem type of guy. Both her kids and her three grandchildren are very fortunate to have her as their matriarch and role model. My memories of Iran, besides those I have with my grand parents, are of good times at her house: I ate my first granola bar there and discovered imported American toys.  By the Caspian sea, at her in-laws' house, I cut my hand with a jar of "torchi" (Iranian pickles), and I was rushed to a random clinic in the middle of nowhere. Today, the scar remains a happy testament of those days.

I was seven when she moved to Dubai, and I still remember the two weeks I spent at her home while my parents traveled. I had just gotten my ears pierced the old fashion way, with a needle, and she took gentle care of them, cleaning them with alcohol and finally assisting me with the Minnie Mouse earrings. She taught me how to tie my shoe laces and today, I often think of her, when I perform those simple bows. As for my children, I have suggested some other person teach them so they can always remember them the way I remember my aunt.

We traveled through Europe with her and her lovely family in an orange VW van, which Grateful Dead fans drive today. Austria, Italy and France were disovered  for the first time with them!

Her beauty has not altered in all these years and remains memorable. Her face is so flawless, Mashallah, that she was once the model for Oil of Olay.

I thank her for being  one of my strongest supporters on this blog because it is in her character, not just to enjoy reading (she was an English major in college), but because her character lends itself to being positive about others.

Today, Dec 6th, is her birthday, a day I never forget in the same way I will never forget how to tie my shoe laces.

Happy Birthday Khaleh Linda!


  1. I am honored that I have a special place on your blog today, all to myself. How sweet of you to remember all the little details that had an impression on you as a child. I too remember, perhaps not as precisely, you cut your hand at the Caspian not broke your arm as I remembered, but very fondly, your visits to our home in Tehran, the Caspian and my baby-sitting days in Dubai. How fast you all grew up and now have beautiful families of your own. One thing I am proud to say, which you may not remember, I was very supportive of your marriage and I pride myself on my good insight, at least in this situation. I don't have to tell you that you have a wonderful husband and I am so proud of you as a Mother, daughter, sibling, niece, cousin and I am sure, friend to all. Love you my Yasmina!

  2. I think that I can speak for the majority of the family when I say that we are so very lucky to be part of the "Mehra Clan." As I'm sure you can see through the blogger's very own words how each individual member of our family has had a wonderful impact on another member. Khaleh Linda was like my second mother growing up. We lived in the same house for 5 years and she encouraged my love of English and reading and was with me through the majority of my trials and tribulations during my adolescent years (and there were many!) I love her so much that when I was 9 or 10 I selected her name as my middle name and use it proudly to this day.

    She is a wonderful aunt and more importantly a close and loyal friend.

    Happy Birthday Khaleh and although we are far apart your love and support are still felt every day.

  3. I hesitated to comment on this entry because I have 5 of those No.3's.You can compare them to Chanel No.5 though because of their radiant beauty and lovely though different characters!Or if you follow the Persian saying I have 5 "Noon Zeir Kebbab",while my wife of many happy years is the real Kebab of course.
    When I met the Magnificient 5,they were all in their early twenties,some in their teens and even the cutest under 10.They were the byproduct of an Iranian American marriage,a confused combination of a Shiite Catholic bondage,taking the burden of the identity crisis resulting from a mixed marriage with a stride.
    Many of them were tutored at home by their lovely American mom,who tried her best to raise them as a typical 50s family in the Iran of the Shah!
    These sisters in law of mine,have become my family the past four decades.As to their 4 brothers,that should be a subject of a posting by the blogger,and a comment by me one day!