لعنت بر زن ریش دار که کشت امام یازدهم را
When I was very young, my mom and my aunt took a few of the kids on a summer trip to Mashad. It was on that trip that I learned a lot about Shia Islam and those who preach it. Those lessons are still with me decades later.
On the Tehran – Mashad train, we had a compartment all to ourselves. There were double-decker bunk beds on each side that got us all excited. We immediately started arguing about who should sleep on the top beds and who should be on the bottom beds. What got my attention was the red emergency brake that had a warning sign next to it. “There will be a fine for an unauthorized use of the emergency brakes.” My aunt warned us not to go near the emergency brake. But I was thrilled by the thought that you could actually stop the big train with all the passengers by pulling on the brake!
The train made several stops along the way. At every stop, there was enough time for the passengers to get out and shop or pray and then quickly get back on. In Semnan, we bought the famous bread and in Damghan we got a jar (Koozeh) of yogurt. My mom kept warning us not to get too far away from the train because if the train left we would be lost for ever in a strange and dangerous place; something like the Oliver Twist story. At each stop, after ten or fifteen minutes the conductor would shout, “All pilgrims on board!” And everybody would rush back in.
زوار ها سوار شن
On the first day after our arrival in Mashad, my mom and my aunt put their mandatory black chadors on and we all headed to Emam Reza Shrine for a visit. At the door we took our shoes and sandals off. Parting with my new light blue plastic sandals was hard, but leaving them next to some old and smelly shoes was even harder. I complained to my mom that some kid may steal my sandals. But she gave me a stern look and said nobody dares to do such thing in this place. Emam Reza was looking over my plastic sandals!
We held each other’s hands so nobody would get lost in the big crowd and approached the tomb. Right then a man with a big voice shouted, “Damn the bearded woman who killed the 11th Emam!”
لعنت بر زن ریش دار
که کشت امام یازدهم را
The crowd chanted, “Damn the bearded woman!” The women wept and the men beat their chests. I was horrified! The mental image of a bearded woman was too much to handle at that young age! I later learned that the 11th Emam, Hasan Askari was killed on the 8th of Rabi-ul-avval by a bearded woman!
The next day we were invited to a women-only Sofreh; a religious theme party for women and children where a Molla will do a sermon before the dinner is served. The hostess had spread a few carpets in the yard and placed pillows all around the large white tablecloth on top of the carpets. As soon as the Molla in black turban arrived and took his sandals off, every one was seated on the carpet. The dress code was more casual. The host put the younger women with light color chadors around the Molla. The older and married women were further away, and the kids sat on the opposite side of the carpet.
The Molla after drinking some Sharbat and having some fruits started the sermon. My mom and aunt have already told us to sit quietly and not to cause any troubles. As he was describing the scene at Karbala and how Emam Hosain was deprived of water and was suffering for all of us, the women started weeping and gently beating their chests. The whole scene was choreographed by the Molla hitting his own head! My young cousins and I were just looking at the incredible scene with our mouths wide open.
As women were getting more emotional and weeping, their chador would slide down which got the immediate attention of the Molla! Finally, at the climax of the sermon during the battle between Emam Hosain and Shemr (his cousin) the button of the blouse of one of the women around the Molla opened and her white breast was half exposed!
The Molla, as he was telling the story, and crying and hitting his head kept staring at the half exposed breast of the woman who was almost fainting from the emotional sermon!
آخونده همینطوری که از امام حسین میگفت و تو سرش میزد، شش دونگ حواسش تو سر و سینه نیمه عریان خانومه بود
After the sermon the dinner was served. The hostess brought trays of saffron rice and several whole roasted chickens. As they presented the first rice tray to the Molla, he brought the big tray on top of his plate, put his thumb upside down in the middle of the rice, and with a quick movement of his wrist emptied half the tray into his plate! He then grabbed a whole chicken by the two drumsticks and put it on top of his rice. He didn’t use any forks or spoons; he just brought the plate close to his mouth and shoved the food in!
I couldn’t believe that he was getting the whole chicken. In our house, whenever my mom made a whole roasted chicken, my father always got one of the drumsticks and the rest of us had to lobby for the second one! But my mom usually remembered who had the drumstick the last time and tried to be fair.
Everything I needed to know about Shia Islam I learned on that short trip to Mashad. After we returned, any time we were playing soccer on the street and a Molla was passing by; we would aim the soccer ball at the back of his head and try to knock his turban down! And the angry Molla would turn around and curse us. The older and the more brave boys would then say, “Damn the bearded woman who killed the 11th Emam!”
لعنت بر زن ریش دار
که کشت امام یازدهم را
And we all laughed!
