Notes & Queries response: How many people does the average person talk to during their lifetime?

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This is my response to a question that appeared on the Notes & Queries page of The Guardian website on 9th October, 2022.

The Guardian is apparently no longer happy to host my comments on their site.

I am replying here instead because it is too good a writing exercise to give up: How quickly can you go from a prompt, a blank mind, and a blank page to a finished piece? And how good can you make it?

This blog is obviously not affiliated with The Guardian. Its reference to a question that appeared in Notes & Queries is presented here under the terms of fair use.

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How many people does the average person talk to during their lifetime?

A few years ago I received a confusing and distressing email from Banu Javadi, who I had once worked with, behind the counter of a Greenwich coffee shop, while she was studying for an economics degree in London. I recall that we got on fairly well. I remember her chiefly for bringing her own carbon paper to work. We used it to make copies of written invoices. The sheets provided by the café manager were forever going missing – it would only take the draught of somebody breezing past for the resulting air turbulence to suck the paper into one of the hairline gaps between the counter units, where it would be forever lost.

I no longer possess the email she sent, but the gist if it was as follows:

'My father had a revolutionary word dyed into his suit many years ago without his knowledge. Now, as you know, the Farahani family are back in power. My father was on his way home from his shop and was forced to make his way through a crowd of protesters. The military police had a translator with them who identified the mark on the arm of his jacket. Now he has been arrested and is in prison where he faces charges of treason.”

It appeared that Banu had sent the message to everybody in her address book. In her anguish, she had neglected to check the blind cc option. When I opened the email, I was confronted by a wall of recipients, the majority of whom were unfamiliar to me.

Beyond the troubling news that Orang Javadi was to be tried for treason by a regime that was well known for meting out summary justice, I was able to glean very little from this communication, I knew from my conversations with his daughter that he was a sweet shop owner and exporter of dates. He kept his head down and did not involve himself in politics.

The reasoning behind his arrest was murkier and more confusing. I had not spoken to Banu since we parted ways and certainly did not wish to badger her with questions during a time of crisis. I fired off my impotent reply – “if there is anything I can do... / thoughts and prayers... etc.”

With that done, I immersed myself in the cultural tradition of revolutionary dye marks.

The secret language of dyes is thought to have first emerged from the Royal Palace at Shimhath, in what is modern-day Iran. It was used by servants of the king to pass on gossip and information, and to stir the ashes of intrigue.

In the marketplace, where spies and dissidents were known to converge, complex sentences could be created and conveyed by a person moving through a large, distracted gathering, grazing the garments of oblivious passers-by with their dyed fingertips, to form characters or fragments of characters; or by tapping those garments which had already received marks. To follow these conversation was to follow a speaker, or speakers, through a crowd, paying heed to whoever they touched, and to any markings that were left behind.

The dyes that were used were indelible. It was accepted, as part and parcel of city life, that some symbol or other would eventually find its way onto your clothing where it would assume permanent residence, unless it was cut out and the hole patched.

Those who made common use of the language occupied a strange and contradictory position in society: They were routinely coming into contact with very large numbers of unsuspecting individuals, while communicating indirectly with a much smaller group of fellow speakers. The expression “alone in a crowd” has seldom seemed more appropriate.

The leaks from Shimhath Palace led to a succession of kings outlawing particular tones. A shade of red known as 'Royal Blood' remains prohibited to this day, owing to its past use as a trigger for successful popular uprisings against incumbent monarchs. 

The ban caused issues for a well-known mobile phone provider whose branding happens to incorporate this particular tone. In the revolution of 2017, T-shirts that had been dyed with 'Royal Blood' became a de-facto uniform for the political dissidents.

While the market dialect of dyes has fallen into anachronism, there are still families who keep the old tradition alive and who continue to leave their marks. It is one of these individuals who inadvertently consigned the father of Banu Javadi to his present fate.

I do not know whether Orang was aware of the meaning of the mark on his suit. The fact that it had been daubed in the forbidden 'Royal Blood' should have perhaps caused him more concern than it did. Then again, it is possible he assumed that the old regime was gone for good, and so why worry about it?

I would like to be able to report to you that he has been freed from incarceration and reunited with his family, but the world does not bend itself so easily to wishes that are unsupported by decisive action.

The best I can say is that international pressure has conferred upon the man and his legal situation an enduring stasis. He is unlikely to be executed, but neither is it likely that he will be set free. He will remain in this limbo until there is some manner of change in the leadership. When this happens, who can say in what direction the pendulum will swing? His position remains precarious.

Banu, in another mass email, that she sent in July of this year, tells us that Orang was able to send her a pressed rose that he had cultivated in the corner of his cell, in soil he had brought in from the prayer yard.

She says that she will incorporate it into her bridal perfume when she marries in 2023.

I hope this is of help.

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