My father’s remarriage had created a lot of conflicts and problems in the family, and it was escalating every day. One day, when I was arguing with my father over these issues, he said, “Go find a job and a life for yourself. What do you want from us?” He officially discharged me, and I had to leave. I said, “Okay, I’ll go.” It was around ten in the morning when I set out. My sister gave me some flatbreads and a few walnuts to have on the way. I was very confused and distraught; I was still not even eighteen. I decided to go to Karaj, hoping to find some work there.
On my way, I ran into my uncle; he had come to buy some groceries and return. He asked about my troubled state, and I explained the situation to him. I told him I was on my way to Karaj, and he asked, “Do you have money?” I said, “Where would I have money?” He took out his wallet, had seventeen qirans, and handed them to me, bidding farewell. In summary, with seventeen qirans, some flatbreads, and a few walnuts, I set off for Karaj. I had to pass through the mountains to get to Baghestan and then to Karaj. It was already close to noon when I started my journey, and I was hungry. There was a spring there, so I stopped to rest and have lunch. I splashed water on my face and had the bread and walnuts. After lunch, I felt restless, and my thoughts turned to what my fate would be at this age. I couldn’t help but cry, tears streaming down my face. Eventually, I realized that crying wouldn’t solve anything. I slowly gathered myself and knew that I had to reach somewhere before evening. So, I splashed my face with water again and continued my journey. I reached Karaj around nightfall and went to the home of my cousin’s husband, Hajj-Hojat. He was in Tehran, but he arrived that night. I told Hajj-Hojat that my father had sold some industrial wood to the Zaki family and was owed money. I had come to collect it.
My cousin’s husband used to go to Tehran in the mornings, and I would go out to look for work. I had breakfast and dinner at their house, and for lunch, I managed with the seventeen qirans. During that time, the ironworks in Karaj were under construction, and I thought maybe I could find work there. I went and saw that it was a construction site with very heavy work, and there was no place for someone my age. I heard that the railway was looking for workers, so I went there, but I didn’t like the atmosphere. A week or so passed, and I was still unemployed. I had almost run out of money, and one day I gave my last qiran to buy a loaf of bread. One of our fellow townsmen was an assistant supervisor at the sugar factory. I thought maybe I could find work there with his help. One day, around two in the afternoon, I went to the home of Mr. Assistant Supervisor. They were taking a nap at home, and our relative brought some meat soup. We had lunch, and I told him about my situation. He said that Mr. Assistant Supervisor was friends with Hajj-Mahmoud Kamali, and if he wrote a letter of recommendation for me, I would be all set. So, I went to see Hajj-Mahmoud.
I rested for a bit, and around four in the afternoon, I went to Mr. Kamali’s house. We had a family relationship with the Kamali family when we lived in Karaj a few years ago, and they knew my parents very well. Mr. Kamali wasn’t home, but Mrs. Kamali was there, and she welcomed me warmly. I told her my story, and she got very upset and angry. She scolded me and said, “These men, as soon as they get a second wife, they forget about everything else.” Mr. Kamali was in Tehran and was apparently coming back in the evening. It was decided that I would stay there for the night and talk to him in the morning. When I woke up in the morning, he had arrived, and his wife had already informed him about everything. Mr. Kamali asked, “Weren’t you going to school?” I said I was, but I wanted to work now. He said, “Here’s the deal: we have a caravanserai that is closed right now. We used to have tenants, but it’s vacant now. Go open it, hire a worker, and start selling goods.” That was our business in Karaj and Barghan, and I was familiar with it. Kamali put the caravanserai under my care, knowing that I could handle it. He gave me the keys and said, “I have work in Tehran, and I can’t help you here. You have to manage it yourself.” I cleaned up the place, set up an office, and turned on the lamp; there was no electricity, so we had an oil lamp. I hired a clerk for office work and a laborer for daily tasks, and I managed the business myself. I also stayed there overnight, sleeping in the office. Mrs. Kamali would send us breakfast and lunch every day.
Our business picked up quickly. My prior knowledge of the business and my deep understanding of it allowed me to take initiative and achieve results quickly. For example, back then, most of the agricultural produce from the Karaj region was transported to Tehran using donkeys, and less was sold in Karaj. I would convince the sellers not to go to Tehran, take them to the caravanserai, unload their goods, and sell them right there. Another thing I did was make a contract with the university. I sold them potatoes and onions because the university had night and day classes, and the students needed such items, so they bought them. These kinds of initiatives and innovations led to the growth of our business. I worked day and night, selling goods during the day, collecting rents in the evening, and handling people’s money.
One day, while I was engrossed in my work, someone delivered a letter from my sister. The letter conveyed that our father was neglecting us, failing to provide paper, pens, or any necessary supplies. He seemed completely indifferent to our needs. This news deeply upset me, and tears welled up in my eyes as I read it. Kamali hadn’t gone to Tehran that day, and upon hearing about the situation, he reassured me by saying, ‘Don’t worry; go to the Imamzadeh and purchase whatever you require. They will send it.’ Fortunately, there was a nearby store that stocked everything – socks, clothing, pencils, pens, notebooks, sugar, tea, and all essential items. I procured everything I needed, hired a donkey, and arranged for it to be sent back.
I had already been in Karaj for about six months at that point. During this time, my father had sent people to bring me back several times, but I had refused. However, it was time for me to visit them. I informed Kamali that I wished to go and see my mother before Eid. He agreed but requested that I return on the night of Eid because he also intended to go to Qom; it was his annual tradition.
A week before Eid, I set out on my way and did a lot of shopping, including fruits, sweets, socks, and everything for my father, mother, grandmother, and others. When I arrived, my parents were very affectionate and happy to see me, to the point that they didn’t want me to leave anymore. My father said, ‘We have differences in the family; you go to Dorvan with your mother and the children, and I’ll stay in Barghan, and we won’t have any dealings together. You stay there, and I’ll stay here, and I’ll send the expenses.’ My mother was very happy, and the children insisted on doing the same thing. I agreed, and we all went to Dorvan and stayed there.
“Mr. Kamali was forced to hire a worker on the night of Eid, and I didn’t receive any wages anymore. In the situation I was in, Kamali treated me like a father, and I constantly thought that I should repay his kindness. The fact that he said, ‘I’m your father and Malook Khanum is your aunt,’ was always on my mind, and I wanted to somehow retaliate when the opportunity arose.