Toward Freedom

It was about twenty days that I was in ACC. Once the cell door opened and a slim man with middle height and a normal face entered. Manouchehri and two others were along with him who would respect him so much calling him General. First he asked from my other two cellmates about the reason of their arrest and length of it. Then he asked me: “Who are you?” I said: “Ahmad Ahmad” He asked: “What’s your crime?” I explained that I had done nothing wrong and they have had kept me as a hostage to make my brother introduce himself. I added that I was innocent and his deeds have no relation with me. I said: “If you cannot arrest him, what’s wrong with me?” I explained that they had arrested me just right after my marriage and took me there and it was unjust. I reasoned if I wanted to fight the regime why should I had married?

It seemed that my words had affected him and the next day they issued the orders that I was anyone to pursue. However, Manouchehri vilely had not let them to inform me. Later I understood that middle height man was General Zandipour[1], the thinking mind of SAVAK and ACC who had ordered for not pursuing me after hearing my words.

SAVAK and ACC interrogators and torturers were mostly abnormally violent people with psychic traumas. Their corruption and depravity were clear on their faces and behavior. One of them was called Rasouli[2]. He was even dirtier and eviler than Manouchehri. He was an asperser, bigmouth, rude alcoholic man. He would compete with Manouchehri in making prisoners confess. These two (Manouchehri and Rasouli) were unique in violation and brutality.

Rasouli would do strange deed when he was drunk. One night the cell door opened and the sharp smell of alcohol filled the cell. Rasouli entered, drunk and subliminal. He slapped on our faces all three (the clergy, the student and me) and insulted us by some bad words. Then he said: “…they’ve kept baby beef here!” and went out. We could hear the sound of slaps and insult from another cell too. After slapping all the prisoners, he returned and gave one or two Winston cigarettes to each prisoner. It was so interesting; if you wouldn’t accept the cigarette, you would be slapped again.

Few days later, Rasouli came again to our cell and asked me: “What’s your name?” I said: “Ahmad Ahmad”. He slapped so hard on my face and said: “You lie!” I said: “No. I am Ahmad Ahmad.” He said: “You lie. It’s three days that we have orders not to pursue Ahmad…” He told me this sentence while he was drunk. The interrogator in charge of my file was Manouchehri. Rasouli took my hand and made me follow him. On the way, he said: “This fu… Manouchehri does such things a lot; when he becomes suspicious to someone, he would let him be free. He is suspicious to you and did not let you go…” We entered a room. He sat behind a table and dialed a number. It seemed that he was calling Manouchehri. But he was not there. He called some other places and finally got him. From the voice and tone from the other side, it was clear that he was also drunk. Rasouli asked: “Why didn’t you free Ahmad Ahmad?” Manouchehri replied: “It’s none of your business…” Rasouli said: “I’ll show you if it is my business or not fu… man! You’re enjoying your time there and we are at stupid work here and then you say it’s none of my business…” Then Rasouli put down the phone. They would speak with each other with this dirty language.

The day after that night, they called that Isfahani student and announced he was free. He said goodbye to us and took his clothes and went. He went and I do not know anything about his destiny. But, whenever I remember his heroic resistance, I admire him in my heart. He was a real resisting fighter and even to the last days he did not confess what he had done or who he was to the agents and even not to us. His behavior would reveal that he was connected to small Muslim armed groups and it was his first time in prison. He never asked me who I was or what I had done either. I always remind him as a resisting good believer fighter who would bring us tranquility and peace with his prays and fasting despite the miserable conditions he had. I wish him he would have had a good destiny.

Three days after it was cleared that I was not about to be pursued by Rasouli, a guard came and told me to gather my clothes and go; I was freed about November 6^th 1973.[3] Then he closed my eyes and took me out of the row. Near to the iron back gate of the prison, he opened my eyes. Before going out, Manouchehri took my hand and called the other agents to turn back. Then he hit my chest and said: “Ahmad! You’ll go and will be a guerrilla and if I arrest you once again… I’d be a mother fu… if I don’t shoot you in the head! I won’t ask you anything or make you confess; I just shoot you in the head to make all the people free of you. Wherever I see you I shoot you. So be careful! If I see you, be sure that you’ll be dead…” I laughed at his hate about me in my heart and told myself: “May God wishes that I kill you one day!”

He came with me to Sardar-e Bagh-e Melli (The National Garden Gate in Tehran) and threatened me a lot. I came out with a pair of slippers and went toward my home while I remember when they were taking me to ACC I had a pair of new patent leather shoes which belonged to my marriage day…

I took a taxi and asked the driver to take me home. I had no money on so when I reached home paid him 15 Rials. He was so happy of that money and went away.