Painter: Morteza KatouzianI knew him in 1998. He unexpectedly died from a brain stroke while walking in the street in 2001. He was 37 years old, married with one kid and he had an impressive path of changing careers.
What I remember most about him is when he said, while we were sipping our coffee some afternoon, that throughout his 4 year pre-marriage relationship and 6 year marriage, he never had a fight with his girlfriend/wife.
Superstitious as I was/am, I felt my heart sank at hearing him. It was never a tradition in my family to brag about being happy. Happiness seemed like a sin/bad omen the moment someone thought to utter the word.
I do not remember I met anyone who was as satisfied with his significant other and with his life as that friend was.
It is strange that the two friends of mine, whom I considered really lucky, passed away young.
In high school I had a close friend who seemed to miraculously get away with every wrong doing. When I heard later about his drowning in a lake, I felt ashamed of myself.
It was not only like admitting being happy was a bad omen, but even thinking that someone else was happy, I felt back then, was also a bad omen.
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