Pen to Paper
This was the most beautiful evening of my life, Irina wrote in her diary. To sit next to him, in front of all those watching. To play Schubert’s Fantasia together, with his hands keeping us steady on the keyboard. Nasrosoltan’s presence gives me energy, and I feel alive when I am with him. It seems Papa and Uncle were impressed with him, so I am overjoyed! I just wish he had not departed so soon after our performance.
When I am with him, I cherish each precious moment. How cruel is Father Time, for he makes hours feel like only seconds when we are together, but a week like many months when I await his arrival. At dinner, in front of all our guests, Nasrosoltan told a funny story about kismet, and with all my heart, I believe in what he said. Can it be that it is this kismet that brought him to me? I am bursting with such excitement that I do not know if I will be able to sleep!
Several weeks earlier, and thousands of miles away in Persia, a father had also put pen to paper. Salar Moazaz had written a letter to his son, which Nasrosoltan just received and eagerly opened to read. Accompanying the letter was a package of pistachio nuts that Nasrosoltan’s mother, Khata Khanoom, had sent for him.
His father explained the pistachios were a gift she thought Nasrosoltan would enjoy, considering how he had hurried to procure some before his departure to St. Petersburg. Nasrosoltan welcomed his mother’s thoughtfulness, deciding to gift the pistachios to Madame Lazar in thanks for helping him prepare for the palace dinner. His father's letter read:
My dear son, I was surprised not to have heard from you for so long, until last month, when we received your telegram acknowledging the funds I sent you. We eagerly look forward to your return to Persia. The shah has appointed me the Director Madrasaye Muzik—conservatory—at the Dar al-Funun, and I am relying on your assistance. You will be my strong right arm in choosing the appropriate curriculum and training the music teachers and students.
My son, it is also time for you to settle down and start a family. As a composer, I, more than anyone, understand your love of music and the desire to immerse yourself in its study full time. However, at some point, you must think of your duty to the homeland and your family's future. It is worth a great deal to have you back with us at the earliest. Your mother has found you a few suitable choices from good families to meet upon your arrival in the fall. You know how much she prays for you to get married and give her many grandchildren.
You will also be delighted to know that Gholam-Hossein shows excellent musical talent, and we will be sending him to the Geneva Conservatory in Switzerland. It is, therefore, essential that you do not delay your return when you have completed your coursework at the conservatory, for the sake of your family and country.
Even though his father’s words were a stark reminder that his time in St. Petersburg was short and that once again, his mother was up to unwanted matchmaking, this did not dampen in any way his excitement for Irina. On the contrary, it made every moment in her presence more precious. With those thoughts, Nasrosoltan began to put pen to paper, not in response to his father’s letter, but instead to compose a piano work he wished to dedicate to Irina.
After his and Irina’s rewarding duet, notwithstanding Prince Yusupov’s warning, Nasrosoltan was jubilant. He wanted to capture these feelings forever with ink and paper as a sculptor would carving a timeless inscription with a chisel on stone. The irony of it eluded him that he was now composing a piece to dedicate to a princess he tutored and loved, just as Schubert had done for a countess—the only difference being that Nasrosoltan’s love was requited.
Just a few weeks ago, due to his confused state of mind, he could not compose, feeling the music blocked, not able to write even one line, no matter how hard he tried. But now, the notes poured out of the tip of his pen onto the paper like a waterfall. He was inspired by his love for Irina, and he willed that this work would be a testament to that love.
He soon realized that he had never worked on a composition such as this, so full of emotion, embodying the most profound intensity of expression, and it all came so quickly to him, effortlessly, since it was music that emanated from the depths of his heart and not his head. No professor at the conservatory, not even the greatest, could show him how to compose this way, which only manifested itself through his love for Irina.
Nasrosoltan now fully appreciated the passion with which the great masters used such emotion to compose their timeless creations, transforming their inexhaustible wealth of ideas into sublime works of art.
He spent the next few weeks composing and improving this arrangement. He even mentioned to Irina during one of their lessons that he was writing it, but he added, “When completed, you will get to hear it performed when the moment is right, for I would present you this gift only for a special occasion.”
The anticipation was too much for her to bear, and she kept asking Nasrosoltan to perform at least a few notes, just to give her a glimpse into the realm of his creativity, but he would not relent.
To temper her excitement, he said to her, “It is not finished and perfect; how can you ask me to present to you, who are the embodiment of perfection in my eyes, a work that is not yet complete? I plead you remain patient, for with patience, stones are turned into diamonds.”
Weeks had passed since the dinner at the palace, performing for the tsar alongside Irina, so Nasrosoltan’s presence for weekly lessons drew less attention from Nana and others on the staff. They now considered him not just a tutor but a friend of the family, as they were aware that after some lessons, Nasrosoltan would spend time with the grand duke in his private study, drinking and telling tales. This allowed him and Irina to spend more time alone without the usual curious oversight. These weekly appointments became more of a lovers’ rendezvous than piano lessons.
It was during these several weeks that they grew closer through their conversations about all things. When Nana was sent on the usual errand for hot tea from the samovar or some such request, they even found time to get close physically by holding and caressing hands.
On one occasion, as they found themselves alone for an unusual amount of time, the energy in the room was palpable. As the spirit of affection between them grew stronger, they inched closer together on the piano bench. Nasrosoltan could feel the heat of Irina’s gaze as she displayed a coquettish smile and moved her head closer to his while they both held tightly to each other's hands. They brazenly felt entitled to this moment, not worried if someone may appear unannounced.
Irina’s face beamed with pure joy as Nasrosoltan came close to her and whispered in her ear, “I hope you will forgive me for being so bold, but I would never forgive myself if I were not.”
And as their breaths trembled on each other’s cheeks, a kiss was set aflame between their two lips. In that one kiss, more was said between them than all the words they had spoken to each other until this point. They lost themselves, surrendering themselves in the silence of the moment.
Nana’s footsteps in the distance broke the silence, and as they moved away from each other, Irina hurriedly said, “I wish you would never leave; I love you!” and she handed him a note she had written. He immediately hid it in his vest pocket, out of sight of the approaching Nana.
After the tea was served and Nana retreated from the music room, Nasrosoltan, who was now overcome with emotion, gripped Irina’s hand tightly and boldly declared, “My dearest Irina, I also never want to leave your side. I feel agony when separated from you!”
But then, realizing their predicament, he added, “However, as I express my feelings for you, I am also aware that circumstances do not seem to be in our favor. You are a Romanov princess, and I am considered a commoner by your family, no matter how much respect they have shown me.”
Having revealed his innermost thoughts, he paused to compose himself and then continued, “My studies at the conservatory will come to an end soon, and I must go back to Persia. My father has been appointed director of the new conservatory, and he needs my assistance. I just received a letter from him urging me not to delay my return. He knows nothing of our feelings for each other, just as your family does not. Never in my life have I been both the most excited and the most unsettled about my future at the same time. I love you and cannot see any future without you, but your position dictates that you be united with someone of a royal background.”
Deciding not to share Prince Yusupov’s insinuation that their relationship may have already been exposed, Nasrosoltan continued with a warning. “Your family will never allow our love to flourish, and if they even detect a hint of our feelings for one another, I will be banished.” He uttered those last words as if the breath left his body.
Irina earnestly replied, “But Papa is very fond of you; if it were not so, he would not have invited you to the dinner where my uncle, the tsar of Russia, was present. I see how he enjoys the time he spends with you after our lessons. Perhaps if you broached the subject with him at the right time, he might be more agreeable than you think. Why would my family wish for anything but my happiness?”
Then, holding back her tears, Princess Irina said, “Why do you even need to return to Persia? Stay here in St. Petersburg with me.”
Nasrosoltan, who was caught up in her emotions and unable to reconcile fantasy with reality, replied, “You know it was always my dream to live and compose in this great city. But I now realize I will remain a nobody if I stay here, just a piano tutor to some. Even though I believe I am a worthy composer, there are hundreds of composers in this city who cannot make a living through their work. Back in Persia, I am somebody with a respected family and much honor. We may be asking the impossible; I fear they will never approve of our love. But I also do not know what else to do other than have faith that despite all the obstacles, our love has a future.”
Peering into her eyes, Nasrosoltan could see that Irina was distressed. He recognized that his words had the opposite effect of his intention, which was to comfort her. So, in a consoling tone, he offered, “My beloved Irina, do not despair; I will keep an eye out for the right moment and hope the grand duke will be approachable.” Though Nasrosoltan had a feeling that this course of action was probably fruitless, he was attempting to protect Irina from further grief.
Since their lesson had ended, Nasrosoltan got up to leave when Grand Duke Alexander’s secretary appeared unannounced and informed him that he had been summoned by the grand duke. Nasrosoltan bid a disconcerted Irina farewell until next week. Irina was amazed that her father had called upon Nasrosoltan so soon after discussing the matter. As he was leaving the room, she inquired with a bittersweet smile, “Do you think it is perhaps kismet?”
Nasrosoltan approached the grand duke’s study and stopped at the entrance, seeing him reading a newspaper and enjoying a drink, so he waited to be acknowledged. The grand duke raised his head slightly and, with his hand, offered Nasrosoltan a seat. He cordially addressed him, “Thank you for coming. Please pour yourself a brandy.”
Nasrosoltan poured the small amount left in the decanter for himself and sat down. The grand duke took a sip of his drink and continued, “I am reading a fascinating article about one of our brave pilots flying a French-made Bleriot XI aircraft to your home city of Tehran. It seems to have surprised the residents there, for they had never seen what they thought was a strange bird flying overhead. Unfortunately, upon landing, the pilot collided with a parked cannon in a field in the city center. Amazingly, Persian technicians were able to repair the plane for him, allowing him to fly back home to Russia.”
Nasrosoltan displayed an air of pride hearing about his countrymen’s technical ingenuity. The grand duke continued with great emphasis, “You know, it was I who brought the Bleriot to Russia, laying the cornerstone for the first aviation school in our country. I think of these flying machines as instruments of war, to defend the motherland, not as playthings as the minister of war, Soukhomlinoff, mockingly suggests. This flight to your country was a great achievement for our aviators.”
The grand duke paused, looking contemplative, then downed the remainder of his brandy in one gulp, adding, “I have strived to make our valiant countrymen prepared for what I fear is to come sooner than anyone expects: a great European war our troops are ill-equipped to fight.”
The grand duke continued, slightly slurring his speech, “We do not have the right armaments or enough ammunition, much of it due to the incompetence of this Soukhomlinoff. For the sake of Mother Russia, I hope I am wrong in predicting such a catastrophic event. If this happens, Europe will have committed suicide. You know, my motto has always been ‘Russia comes first,’ but as I grow older, I realize I only have one life to live, and above all, the protection of my children reigns supreme.”
Nasrosoltan realized the grand duke may have had more brandy than usual, as he was divulging intimate feelings about the situation of the country and his family. This day, they were having a more profound conversation than before. He decided it best to just listen and refrain from saying much, as it was apparent the grand duke was looking for a receptive ear.
Grand Duke Alexander then caught Nasrosoltan’s attention by confiding, “Your influence on the princess’s development has been exemplary, and I wanted to take this moment to thank you for all you have done. As she is my only daughter, her happiness is paramount, and these past few months she has developed a self-assuredness that is evident in her demeanor.” He then raised his now empty glass, toasting Nasrosoltan in appreciation.
As the grand duke continued to speak, Nasrosoltan could not believe what he was hearing. Could it be that Irina was right, that kismet was in their favor? Maybe the grand duke was signaling that he was more agreeable than Nasrosoltan had given him credit for. Nasrosoltan’s spirit soared like an eagle as he began to believe that maybe there was a chance for their love to flourish. Irina’s father had unexpectedly spoken the words that gave Nasrosoltan a renewed and growing confidence.
The grand duke continued, “The grand duchess and I have noticed how she has blossomed under your tutelage. Thanks to your magnificent performance together that evening, I am happy to say that arrangements are being made for Princess Irina’s everlasting happiness.”
At first, Nasrosoltan was confused, not knowing where the conversation was leading; however, talk of plans for Irina’s happiness intrigued him. But then the grand duke uttered these heart-piercing words: “Prince Felix Yusupov has asked our permission for their engagement. I am sure you are aware I am telling you this in the strictest confidence!”
Even though the grand duke was slightly inebriated, Nasrosoltan had a sense that he would not have divulged such delicate matters to him if he were not leaving for Persia soon. But it did not matter why the grand duke said it, since now privy to this, Nasrosoltan would rather not have heard it. He instantly realized his apparent confidence in imagining he had a chance with Irina had been nothing more than a presumption.
Nasrosoltan felt totally numb and could not hear anything else the grand duke said. Suddenly, as if transported to his childhood, he recalled a poem his father once recited to him by the famous Persian poet Nasser Khosrow.
The poem told the tale of an eagle soaring proudly, high in the sky, admiring the array of his beautiful feathers when a concealed archer launches an arrow that strikes his wing, and he falls from the mist of clouds to the ground. He sees at the end of the arrow one of his own feathers used to make it go straight. The eagle says sorrowfully in Persian, “Ze ke nalim, ke az mast ke bar mast!” (“How can I protest, what came from me, returned to me!”) And so Nasrosoltan realized that he unintentionally had a hand in his own heart’s undoing.
The grand duke’s words were the arrow that stopped this soaring eagle’s journey mid-flight, tumbling his spirit speedily to the ground. Nasrosoltan could not believe that the same efforts he was recognized for were leading the hand of his true love into the hand of another man.
Dumbfounded and bewildered, he felt like a defeated wrestler without ever setting foot into the wrestling pit. He now fully understood the cruel rules of the game. To enter such a contest, the competitors had to be of the same status as those judging it. Could it be that Irina was right, that it was kismet? However, if so, in this instance, kismet was woefully unkind.