An Audience Granted
As Nasrosoltan’s carriage left the palace, he was in a state of shock and disbelief. Once again, he cursed fate for playing with his emotions—the same fate that created ecstasy and then confusion within him instantly. He wondered why he had not said anything to the grand duke? Why had he silently listened while the words cut through him like a knife, without any proclamation on his part? He regretted his timidity and felt devastated at what seemed to be a fait accompli that Irina was to be with another man forever. Having lost track of time, he reached for his pocket watch in his vest but instead found the note Irina had given to him earlier, which he anxiously read.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails!
This is my favorite verse from Saint Paul in our Bible, and I think it is beautiful and wanted to share it with you, for I rejoice in your love, and I have faith and trust that our love will never fail!
With the heartbreaking news he had just received from Irina’s father, Nasrosoltan felt differently about love. The love that Irina’s saint had spoken of was just an illusion, he thought. If he were to write his feelings about love at this moment, there would be no aroma of paradise. Instead, he would say that love is not kind, love delights in hopelessness, love torments, and love deceives. This would be the love he believed every lover, except perhaps a saint, would recognize from having loved.
Nasrosoltan’s whole being felt pained, knowing full well there was no remedy: the pain that seems it will never depart the body, which is ever-present and relentless, like a thief, robbing the victim of sleep, appetite, and any joy or purpose. A pain worse than death, for there is a finality in death, a nothingness that is to be expected. But to be kept apart from his love and to know she was to be with another, that was too much to bear.
Nasrosoltan cursed love as the culprit, blaming it for offering him what now seemed unattainable. But what he failed to accept was that love was only an innocent bystander on the path where he had been placed by chance and choice.
With every defeat, there first comes disbelief, then anger, followed by self-pity and finally despair. Until, in the end, one totally succumbs to the grief, or instead, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of pain and suffering, he develops the will to move forward and be reborn with new life and purpose. After several intense evenings of reflection and soul-searching, assisted by bottles of vodka and reading poems of Rumi, Nasrosoltan came upon this verse that deeply touched him and changed his attitude toward love:
A damsel said to her lover, “O fond youth,
You have visited many cities in your travels;
Which of those cities seems most delightful to you?”
He made answer, “The city wherein my love dwells,
In whatever nook my queen alights;
Though it be as the eye of a needle, ’tis a wide plain;
Wherever her beautiful face shines as a moon,
Though it be the bottom of a well, ’tis Paradise.
With thee, my love, hell itself were heaven.
With thee, a prison would be a rose-garden.
With thee, hell would be a mansion of delight,
Without thee lilies and roses would be as flames of fire!”
Rumi’s eloquent words were like an ointment rubbed on a blind man’s eyes so that he gains sight and can see clearly once again. The poet had reminded Nasrosoltan that he was dwelling in the same city as his love and still had access to her, so he slowly broke from his gloom. Fed up and frustrated, he knew this defeatist attitude was the most unappealing aspect of his character. He decided that hope was not a strategy, but bold action was.
Although Nasrosoltan’s hopes had been set aflame with only a few words from the grand duke’s lips, he resolved to rise from the ashes of his misery with renewed vigor and a determination to gamble everything for love. He finally understood he had no right to lament his situation if he did not dare fight for Irina. Nasrosoltan had a change of heart regarding love, seeing it as an ally in his quest for the ultimate prize, not an enemy to be despised.
Nasrosoltan gradually felt a resurgence of confidence in who he was. He regained his footing by spending all his free time completing the piano composition for Irina. He poured his soul into this work, and he believed it to be his masterpiece, with the beauty of melody throughout. Nasrosoltan intended to perform this piece at the conservatory’s annual public event, which always attracted a broad audience from the public and the St. Petersburg press.
Once again, fate intervened when Director Glazunov called Nasrosoltan into his office, informing him, “Monsieur Minbashian, it is customary for the conservatory to send invitations to the families of Russian students for the public performance. For foreign students who have no family in Russia, exceptions are made in that the invitation can be sent to another guest if you would like.”
Nasrosoltan thought this the perfect opportunity for Irina to hear the work he had dedicated to her, as he had promised for a special occasion.
Nasrosoltan replied, “Thank you, Director Glazunov, for your kindness in thinking of me. I would indeed appreciate it if an invitation could be sent to the family of Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich on my behalf.”
Upon hearing the royal name, a startled Glazunov inquired, “The Grand Duke Mikhailovich? I am curious to know why, if you do not mind me asking?”
Nasrosoltan responded, “It is my honor to have been the piano tutor to Her Serene Highness Princess Irina Alexandrovna for the last several months, and I have become closely acquainted with the family. Since I am to return to Persia within a fortnight of the performance, I would like to extend this invitation to this esteemed family.”
Glazunov was surprised at Nasrosoltan’s familiarity with the royal family to the extent that he wished for them to receive an invitation. As Nasrosoltan got up to leave his office, the director reminded him to submit a draft of his musical score for review before the performance.
With such a grueling schedule to prepare for his examination, to unwind, Nasrosoltan spent the little free time he had walking the boulevards of St. Petersburg along the banks of the Neva. He admired the city's beauty, and he knew he would miss it dearly upon his return to an unknown future in Persia. These daily walks became a ritual that cleansed his soul and cleared his mind from the clutter of unwanted thoughts and misplaced doubts.
But now, the one thing that had become quite clear to him was his boundless devotion to Irina. And his feelings for her were no longer accompanied by fear and trepidation of what may or may not happen. Instead, he felt freedom from the shackles that had bound him—bindings that were now cast aside by how he felt toward her and the action he planned to consolidate his position.
On the day of his next lesson with Irina, he arrived at the palace at the appointed time. She eagerly greeted him with a full, beaming smile. “Papa mentioned that we have received an invitation to your performance at the conservatory and has agreed we shall attend. Oh, my dear, I am so delighted and proud; it is sure to be the most wonderful day. I cannot contain my excitement!”
Without taking a breath, Princess Irina continued, “Have you decided on the piece you will be performing for your examination?”
Nasrosoltan took advantage of this opportunity to respond with news she would find pleasing, telling Irina he would perform the work he had created for her. He was aware that at some point during their time together on this day, he would also have to deliver some rather unpleasant news concerning the negotiations with the Yusupov family.
Hearing that Nasrosoltan would be performing the promised dedication to her, Irina spontaneously leapt up with tremendous joy, hugging and kissing him, knowing full well that it was their secret.
Nasrosoltan, uncomfortable that Nana or another staff member may see this display of affection, quickly separated himself from her.
He told Irina, “I have become like Schubert, dedicating a work to the one I love. Just as Schubert, I am also of a different social status than the object of my love. But I declare this love proudly, no matter the consequence!”
With an affectionate smile, Irina replied, “My note the other day expressed my feelings towards you. Did you read it?”
Before Nasrosoltan could reply, Irina excitedly asked him, “So, tell me, where did your conversation with Papa lead to the day he summoned you to his study? Did you mention our feelings for one another?”
Reluctant to break the positive spell, Nasrosoltan had to tell her the truth. “The grand duke imparted some information of a sensitive nature to me that I am not sure you are yet aware of. I cannot help but share it with you, and you must promise to keep this to yourself if it is the first you’ve heard of it.”
Irina was both confused and curious as she asked, “Please tell me, what is it? I promise I will not divulge what you tell me. But please tell me; I am getting worried!”
Nasrosoltan held her hand to comfort her and said, “Prince Felix Yusupov’s family is in discussions with your family, asking that you be engaged to him. Once I heard this news, I was flabbergasted and rendered completely speechless.”
Nasrosoltan, sensing her uneasiness, continued quickly to try to reassure her. “I felt it would be hopeless at that moment to say anything, and I departed as soon as he gave leave. Later in the carriage ride home, I read your note, which after my initial despair eventually soothed my wounded spirit.”
He paused for a moment, as if convincing himself of his next declaration. “I now do believe what your saint proclaims, that love never fails.”
With each word Nasrosoltan delivered, Irina’s smile slowly transformed into a full pout, eclipsing her momentary joy with an air of gloom, as she was now engulfed in sorrow. Her eyes welled with tears, an outward display of the emotions Nasrosoltan had also felt when he had heard these same words from her father’s lips.
It was not surprising Irina did not know of the Yusupov offer, for these matters were kept hidden as much as possible until it was made sure that such a union was to take place. With these arrangements, negotiations between royal families were commonplace, and they would rather not have the news made public until the day of formal acceptance.
Irina was beside herself and began to weep. “No, no, never, I do not wish to spend my life with anyone but you! Please tell me you will tell Papa of our feelings for one another. Please, my dear, promise me!”
Nasrosoltan tried to comfort her by clasping her hands tighter. “Do not let your heart be troubled, my dear, for I have decided not to let my social position deter us from our happiness.
“It may seem the height of arrogance on my part to speak this way, but I deem myself worthy of being with the woman I love, even though she is a princess of the Romanovs. I will not be held back from expressing my feelings to your father. I am determined to seek a private audience with the grand duke after my performance.” Then he added with a half smile, “In the meantime, remain collected, and let kismet do the rest.”
There was a confidence in the way Nasrosoltan expressed himself that reassured her. He was fearless in the face of insurmountable odds, and this only made him more attractive to her at the moment she felt the most vulnerable. She adored him and was impressed most of all with his willingness to risk everything for her love.
“But what if Papa cannot be convinced?” she questioned. “What will we do then, my love?”
Nasrosoltan replied, “Let us not worry about that at this moment. What is the benefit of worry? As we say in Persian, Khoda bozorge!”—God is great!—“We must lean on his grace and the words of your saint who said, ‘love is patient.’ So we must also be patient and pray for a favorable outcome. We must not do or say anything rash in the meantime if our love is to have a chance.”
It seemed Irina had not heard a single word he had spoken when she naively exclaimed, “If Papa is not agreeable, I will run off with you to Persia. I would rather be with the one I love in a foreign land than with one I do not love in my own country! If Papa disagrees, I will talk to the tsar myself because I know he would understand. Even if he forbids it, I will be ready on the eve of your return to Persia to accompany you. You would not leave me behind, would you?”
Nasrosoltan pleaded with her, “My dear, you must control your emotions and contain this talk of eloping!”
Concerned that Irina’s emotions could spin the situation out of control, he gently reminded her, “We must not act impulsively, for only one misstep can lead to an unfortunate end to our hope of everlasting love.
“Please, my dear, have faith and allow me to present my case to the grand duke if he grants me a private audience. If anyone hears you speaking this way now, we will never even have that chance.”
Irina relented and took comfort in the words he spoke, agreeing to not talk of these things until his hoped-for audience with her father. As Irina leaned in and placed her head on Nasrosoltan’s shoulder, she confided, “I have faith in you, and I believe with all my heart that you will find a way to secure our happiness. You have locked me inside your love. I will pray every day from now until then that Papa’s heart softens so that he does not resist the words you speak to him.”
Irina then smiled as she thought about what she was going to say next, advising Nasrosoltan, “You know, this past Sunday, our priest gave a sermon at church, and he said something unusual. He noted that the same sun that can melt wax can also harden clay.
“So, my love, for our sake, please choose your words carefully when speaking with Papa, for like the sun, the appropriate words can also soften the hardest heart, but misplaced words may unexpectedly harden it further.”
Nana’s footsteps in the distance alerted them to her imminent presence. They physically separated per their now-perfected routine of acting as if they had been immersed in the music lesson the whole time. Nana, recognizing that this would be Nasrosoltan’s final lesson at the palace, had asked the cook to prepare a special Russian teacake for him and Irina to enjoy with their afternoon tea. Today, they did not mind Nana spending a few minutes with them making small talk.
After Nana left them, Nasrosoltan quietly reminded Irina to not mention anything to anyone. Irina agreed by placing her forefinger to her lips as a sign of her vow of silence.
The next day, Nasrosoltan visited Madame Lazar to invite her to his performance, scheduled for the following week. While there, he noticed her injured hand had improved significantly, as she demonstrated to him she could now play the piano once more. Thankfully, it seemed there would be no permanent damage to her hand or her career from the child’s bite.
Madame Lazar thanked him. “I have enjoyed your presence here and will remember our many conversations fondly. I am also eager to return to the palace to continue lessons with the princess. Thank you for all you have done, kind Monsieur. I feel enormously proud to have introduced you to the esteemed family of Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich.”
Nasrosoltan appreciated her words and thanked Madame Lazar for introducing him to the royal family. And in his heart, he silently thanked her for the referral to the woman he now loved.
But Nasrosoltan’s deepest gratitude was reserved for his departed friend. If Rustam had not introduced him to the gaming house, Nasrosoltan would have never agreed to tutor in the first place. He found it comical how enraged he was the night he lost his wager while cursing the roulette ball and the unfortunate turn of the wheel. But now, Nasrosoltan saw that turn as a fortunate one.
On the day of his public performance, Nasrosoltan was unusually nervous, eager for the examination to begin. Today, his angst was even more pronounced due to the presence of Irina and her family in the audience. Of the five pianists who were to perform, Nasrosoltan was scheduled last, having to sit through the other recitals before his turn. Nothing can disturb a musician’s nerves more than hearing a lack of enthusiasm from the attendees for a performance, which may portend a coldly critical audience.
There was warm applause but no ovation for the first performer, which may have been due to a hint of tiredness, a lack of punch in the artist’s playing. But with each successive soloist taking the stage, the crowd began to appreciate the music more deeply, and the responding applause for each performer grew louder and longer.
Finally, it was Nasrosoltan’s turn, and he recognized that it had been a blessing rather than a curse to have been last, as now the audience was more expressive and energetic. As he made his way to the piano, Nasrosoltan noticed Irina and the grand duke and duchess in the front row, eagerly awaiting his performance. Of all those waiting to hear him perform, there were only two people he truly wished to impress: his professor, Glazunov, and Irina, for this work was his gift to her, an offering that only she knew of.
As he bowed to the audience, his eyes met Irina’s. Nasrosoltan felt a moment of panic that perhaps all could witness his deep connection with her. However, he quickly collected himself and sat down at the piano, and then began to play. Once his fingers touched the keys, he became one with the instrument. Nasrosoltan poured his whole being into his performance, playing the piece with rhythmic energy and dynamic verve. The audience sat in silence, spellbound as the notes touched their willful ears. Princess Irina was thrilled at hearing her gift being unveiled for her one note at a time.
When Nasrosoltan finally finished, he was spent, having mustered all his energy and concentration into playing this piece. At first, he heard no response from the audience. Nasrosoltan suddenly worried that perhaps he had not delivered the impassioned performance he had hoped for. But to his immediate relief, just as he got up to take a bow, he was greeted with more-than-enthusiastic applause and even several shouts of bravo from the crowd. Nasrosoltan was finally able to look toward Irina with a triumphant gaze, and she seemed totally mesmerized by the work he had dedicated and performed for her.
The grand duke and duchess graciously waited for Nasrosoltan to congratulate him. They were speaking with Director Glazunov as he came off the stage and approached them. Nasrosoltan could see on Glazunov’s face that he was pleased with the results of the examination. Glazunov shook his hand, saying, “Monsieur Minbashian, you truly emptied your heart into your performance today. As music composition is the hardest and most noble thing a musician can do, surely you must have had a special inspiration for creating this piece. I wish to congratulate you!”
Nasrosoltan had finally achieved what he had wished for when he came to St. Petersburg, but this was not the most important thing for him any longer. He now believed his coming to this enchanted capital city had not been for success in his musical career, but instead for this great journey of love Hafez had foreseen years earlier.
Nasrosoltan quickly approached the grand duke and requested a private audience to discuss a personal matter before returning to Persia. The grand duke readily agreed and said, “I will have my personal secretary contact you in the next few days, once he consults my schedule.”
Nasrosoltan thanked him and the grand duchess for coming to his performance. He paid similar respects to Irina, who was still beaming from his secret gift to her. However, Irina seemed even more excited to see Nasrosoltan had secured the audience with her father that she had been praying for.