By: Dr. Mohamad-Javad Motamedi, Son of Ostad Mehdi

A young man claimed to have a perfect command of the English language. So someone asked him: How do you say the wind has taken your hat? He responded, “Oh you say, Baaad Kolaaat Bord.” ☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺
Childhood Memories
By: Dr. Dariush Motamedi
Son of Mohamad-Hossain, grandson of Ostad Mehdi
******My father, as the eldest son, helped our grandfather, Baba Bozorg (Ostad Mehdi), in economic and tax affairs. After closing-time he often went to his father in Lane-e-Yek in Ahmadabad, a district of Abadan. Often I had to accompany him. Only years later did I realize why I was expected to accompany my father…
Our 70-year-old grandfather had married two young girls -- he had gone on vacation twice and each time had returned with a new young woman. And they had already been married -- basta!
 My mother became very suspicious and jealous, thinking that for sure my father was unfaithful to her by having an affair with his two step mothers. So I had to accompany my father to prevent any opportunities for him to deal with those women. I was expected to spy on him and report to my mother.
******Once my father and I walked down the road when an old, dirty, unshaved, deranged person of short stature who was in rags came by. To my astonishment he was greeted by my father warmly and reverentially.
We walked along the road together and he consulted with my father about the construction of several fountains, about details such as how deep they should be, about their distance, the material, how many workers they needed and the cost. Later, I got to know, that he wanted to build a series of underground channels – called QANAT.
When he was gone I asked my father: Since when do you talk to such crazy people? My father blinked at me and said: THIS IS THE RICHEST MAN IN ABADAN. ☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺  
Family Memory
By: Dr. Mohamad-Javad Motamedi, Son of Ostad Mehdi
My father (everybody called him Baba) was very proud of his children. He often boasted about my younger sister Farangis and I – his two youngest children – because we were attending the Tehran University’s Medical College. He also took pride in his other children, Mohamad-Hossain, Mohamad-Ali, Mohamad-Hassan and Manzarbanoo as they all had been successful in their work and family lives and respected within their communities in the city of Abadan

But in his old age Baba had become rather forgetful and could not remember many things, such as the home addresses of his children.

One day he decided to visit his oldest son Mohamad-Hossain. He called a cab, entered it and, in his sweet Esfahani accent, said to the driver: “Please take me to Hossain’s house.”

“Who is Hossain and what is his address?” the cab driver asked politely.

“Don’t you know where my son Hossain lives?” Baba shouted angrily. “Then drive me to my son Ali’s house.”

And when the cab driver didn’t know that either, Baba became angry again and demanded to be driven to the home of his daughter Manzarbanoo. But, regretfully, the cab driver didn’t know where Manzarbanoo lived either. 

By this time, Baba was so furious that he decided not to ask to be taken to the house of his son Hassan.

He got out of the cab, and while standing outside, asked the driver if he knew where the vegetable bazaar was. The cab driver was very happy that he might finally have a passenger and shouted, “Yes, of course, please let me take you there.”

And Baba shouted back, “Good, then you go there and stay where you belong.” He then turned away and walked into his home, leaving the poor cab driver in awe.
Childhood Memory
By: Dr. Dariush Motamedi
Son of Mohamad-Hossain, grandson of Ostad Mehdi
When we were kids, my brother Hooshang and I, along with my dokhtar amooha (cousins) Mahin and Parvaneh, often were playmates and looked for ways to entertain ourselves – however, we were not allowed to play any kind of doctor games.

We didn’t understand why, but we obeyed our parents.

I was the oldest, next was Mahin, then Hooshang and then Parvaneh.

One day our parents were in the living room discussing family issues -- often there were family issues, but they were always resolved because our family members always compromised.
The four of us were bored and looking for a way to entertain ourselves. In the kitchen we found fresh almonds in their shells. We decided to make a fun game out of competing and each one of us trying to win by cracking the most shells and eating the most almonds.

However, some of the almonds were bitter, so Mahin and I made a side pact and decided to give our bitter almonds to Parvaneh and Hooshang. They complained about the bitterness but ate them anyway.

But the game lasted less than an hour because Parvaneh and Hooshang began feeling tired, apathetic, pale and floppy. Mahin and I got scared and rushed to our parents with the bad news that the two were sick.

Suddenly there was a major commotion in the house as everybody screamed and began shaking Parvaneh and Hooshang, lest they might faint. The two were then rushed to the hospital where they underwent gastric lavage to get rid of the intoxication brought about by the highly poisonous hydrocyanic acid found in bitter almonds.

Needless to say, Mahin and I were extremely guilt-ridden and scared out of our wits as we had no idea that bitter almonds were poisonous. But, fortunately, even though we were adequately disciplined by our parents, we did escape revenge by our playmates … since their condition had also brought about temporary memory loss. Phew!