Saed News: Join us in this article with old yet beautiful and captivating images.
According to the history section of Saed News, here is a photograph from the wedding of Farangis Khabir (daughter of Khabir al-Saltaneh), sourced from the Harvard Qajar Women Archive.
Excerpts from the book The Palace of Solitude, memoirs of Soraya Esfandiary:
"After Alireza, more than ever, Taj al-Molouk insisted to the Shah that he needed to think about a successor. Mohammad Reza told me, ‘In New York, we must see a specialist...’ I could no longer be a queen; I was simply a woman from whom something was expected—something I could not provide. A duty I was unable to fulfill.
So, I devoted my time to charity: building hospitals, setting up free meal centers for the needy, establishing schools, and fighting against injustice and poverty. My entire focus was on creation. As for myself... nothing. And I made no effort to carry out the duty expected of me—to give the Iranian nation its future king.
We traveled to America, and at last, I found a sense of freedom, away from prying eyes and whispered remarks. I loved New York. There, I could walk around without intrusive journalists waiting to ambush me. The city’s skyline reflected the colors of steel and glass, standing firm and unshaken.
On Fifth Avenue, accompanied by Madame Qaragozlu, I visited a famous tailor and was greeted with ‘Hello, Empress.’ New York was a city of freedom, and I felt free there. Yet, despite all its kindness, when the Shah scheduled a check-up for me, fear gripped me. What if…?
Tests, examinations, blood work… The results came back positive; everything was normal. We were relieved, overjoyed. The doctor explained to Mohammad Reza that the shock, anxiety, and distress I had endured over the years could have caused my infertility, but he reassured us that it was temporary and everything would be fine. Hope returned to us.
After New York, we went to Washington, where a grand banquet was held in the White House halls.
Mrs. Eisenhower, dressed in red, gave me a tour of her apartments and showed me a gallery of portraits painted by renowned American artists. We exchanged polite conversation, discussing fashion, climate, and cuisine… as well as unnecessary and private meetings.
Returning to the hotel, I began counting with my fingers. Mohammad Reza, noticing my curiosity, asked, ‘What is it, Soraya?’ I remained silent.
January, February, March, April, May… I was calculating my chances. A countdown for my precious nine months… Maybe, just maybe!"
Possibly the first woman to fall victim to the negative perception of cinema and the blurred line between private life and artistic life.
(Photo by Kaveh Kazemi)
