Kir is the name of a fancy alcoholic beverage, I think. It also happens to be the extremely rude Iranian term for the penis. Sorry, but there you go. It is so rude, that I can’t think of the English equivalent, certainly far ruder that the relatively mild cock or dick. Take it from me, it’s very, very rude, so rude that I have never even heard my generally foul-mouthed family members use it. In fact, I don’t know how I know of the existence of this word? Because it is very, very, very rude. –an is plural suffix in Iranian, and so add that to the end of kir, and you have a plurality of very rude penises.
Why, the gentle reader may ask in some confusion, this erudite farsi lesson? Because it’s the Halifax Jazz festival (again)- that time of the year when you hear the word halifax thrown around approximately fifty billion times a day. And somebody called Kiran is coming to perform. And some oblivious person has slated her to perform together with an Iranian musician (of the spiritual variety). Hilarity and embarrassment ensues for the music-loving Iranian community here, as well as, presumably, the super-spriritual Iranian musician.
When a mild-mannered, polite Iranian friend suggested to go watch the Iranian musician, I couldn’t resist. “She’s going to perform with the other musician called [silence], isn’t she?” For I simply cannot bring myself to utter the word Kiran in polite conversation. But I didn’t have to. My friend knew exactly what I meant. She widened her eyes and murmured “is that really her name? Why?”
Why indeed? But why not? How could the poor woman have known her name meant a bunch of rude dicks in Iranian? But something tells me, by the end of her performance in Halifax, she will know.