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Fiction

Return of Shahrzad
Part 10

By Eric J. Jerpe
March 26, 2004
iranian.com

Eventually, Shahrzad turned from the glowing exhibit. The crowd gathered around her as she walked over to where the magi were standing. She halted in front of them, said hello to her personal acquaintances, Romeen and Roxana and Porzand and the Yazd Magi, then spoke to the crowd in general.

"As I gaze into the Sacred Flame, I see twelve thousand cowhide parchments containing the chapters to the Holy Avesta written in golden ink. I see the destruction of all but a small fraction of this precious wisdom."

The onlookers began asking theological questions, not of the magi but of this ravishing beauty who spoke like a visionary. One man asked, "What does the Magian Faith say about Heaven and Hell?"

"According to Zoroaster," answered Shahrzad, "when we die our essence leaves the body, and depending upon the choices it has made, either it will go to the House of Songs and Realm of Light (for those who choose good) or to the Realm of Darkness and Separation (for those who choose evil). Heaven and Hell are not described as physical places, but as timeless states of consciousness: either oneness with or separation from Ahura Mazda. Yet, as with the concept of angelic hierarchy, mythology crept into the Zoroastrian concept of afterlife, reaching its low point in the writings of Adra Viraf during the Sassanian dynasty."
The same man then asked, "And what of Reincarnation?"

Shahrzad answered: "There is only one hint of reincarnation in the Gathas, Verse Eleven of Yasna Forty-Nine. 'But souls whose inner light continues dim, who have not yet beheld the Light of Truth, unto this Home of Falsehood (this Earth) shall they return.' The clearly expressed idea of progress along the Path of Asha has much in common with the Hindu Law of Karma wherein reincarnation is a definite ingredient, yet Zoroastrianism neither affirms reincarnation nor denies it. If one thinks of reality in terms of time passages, then a soul might be bound to return because of something unsettled. It would be too much to say that Magian doctrine implies reincarnation, but it does leave room for it."

A woman raised her hand and meekly asked, "What does the Magian Faith say of the rights and duties of women in marriage?"

Shahrzad answered: "In Yasna Fifty-Three Zoroaster speaks of marriage. In Verse Three he addresses his youngest daughter, Pouro-Chista: 'Ahura Mazda has offered you a husband, a person who has deep attachment to Good Mind and Truth. Therefore, consult with your inner self and wisdom, and act through pure love and intuition.'

"In Verse Four Pouro-Chista replies, 'I have consulted my inner self, and I choose to accept him as husband and father to my children. I commit myself to being a righteous and deserving wife. May Ahura Mazda grant my descendents the glorious heritage of Vohu Mano and the blessing bestowed upon the followers of Asha.'

"In Verse Five, Zoroaster addresses all newlyweds. 'These words I speak to maidens truly wed and to their partners young; bear them in mind and understand them deep within your souls. Strive to surpass one another in Truth and Good Mind. Thus, both of you shall reap the rewards of love and happiness.'

"Zoroaster is saying that marriage is a commitment from both parties, the repercussions of which will be felt throughout the ages. Nowhere does he say that the wife is to be the abject slave of her husband. The Prophet of Iran does not give a blueprint for living a good marriage, only a guiding principal."

From this statement, Shahrzad digressed into a theological generalization: "Indeed, religion itself is not meant to provide detailed answers to the problems one faces in everyday life; rather, it is meant to provide a solid moral foundation upon which the individual can properly choose to do what in right in changing circumstances. Rules and regulations governing people's lives occasionally require amendment. There is much guiding wisdom and classic poetry in the Koran, but when you base any society upon a defined set of transgressions and punishments meant for a totally different era, then you deny contemporary relevance to genuinely religious writings, nullify their inspirational value, and freeze that society's progress on multiple fronts."

All the listeners were truly enthralled, eager to hear more of what Shahrzad had to say. But their attentions shifted as a group of four men, a mullah in clerical robes along with his entourage of plainclothes theocratic police, entered into the Temple. The sudden arrival of these authorities triggered a tense stiffening-up among the listeners, including Romeen and Roxana, who immediately recognized the mullah and his entourage as the same enforcers they had seen last night in their hotel lobby.

Standing just inside the Temple, the mullah looked with hard, cold eyes at the group of Moslems touring the site of what he regarded as a relic of antiquity that should have been obliterated like the Afghan Buddha statue. As long as these Moslems kept this visit to a fire temple on the same plane as a visit to Persepolis, the mullah, while somewhat disgusted by their ungodly interest in such polytheistic remnants, could voice no objection. But for some time he had been sensing that here, within the walls of this fire temple, there existed a potential threat to the world order he emphatically believed in and vowed to protect.

"Welcome, good mullah," greeted the Yazd Temple magi, "to this house of worship. You will find no enemies here."

Speaking to the small crowd of Moslems rather than answering the magi, the mullah declared, "It says in the Sacred Writings that Jews and Zoroastrians are the greatest enemies of Islam."
Romeen, aware of that quotation, thought, Although literally that is what it says, you are taking the passage out of context, mullah. His fear for the safety of himself and his wife prevented him from voicing any scriptural corrections.

"But here in the ancient city of Yazd," noted Porzand, "Jews and Zoroastrians and Christians and Moslems have all lived together in peaceful coexistence for many centuries."

"And the current president of Israel was born in Yazd," said the mullah as if to counter that argument."

Shahrzad stepped a few paces closer to the mullah and, calm and smiling, addressed him: "Do you know the story of the Enchanted Prince of the Black Isles?"

Most of the onlookers cringed at the apparent brazenness on the part of this mysterious woman. The mullah himself raised eyebrows as if somewhat startled but more than ready to punish any kind of defiance.

"The Black Isles were a place much like Yazd," Shahrzad continued, "a place where Jews and Magians and Nazarenes and Moslems all lived in peace and harmony under the rule of a benevolent prince. But then, a sorceress cast a spell upon the young prince, transforming him into a block of marble from the waist down while he remained a man from the waist up. At the same time, all of his subjects were transformed into fish. There were four kinds of fish, each kind with a different color, each color representing one of the kingdom's four religions: the Jews were yellow, the Magians (who were thought to worship fire) were red, the Nazarenes were blue, and the Moslems were white."

"Who are you?" demanded the mullah in the harsh voice of one who does not play games.
"My name is Shahrzad," she answered in a pleasant tone of voice.

The mullah pointed to the glass-encased fire and angrily shouted, "You know full well that it is an affront to Almighty God for a Moslem to even enter into this temple of fire worshippers!"
"Then why have you entered?" she calmly inquired.

This was too much. The mullah was now determined to arrest this rash entity he was now confronting. He thundered, "I am here to save my people from being led astray!"

She held her own against a man not to be trifled with: "No one is being led astray in this temple. These good people are merely curious about the faith of their ancient ancestors, and we are here to answer their questions."

The mullah sensed an opportunity. A infidel proselytizer, he thought.

"You are not a Moslem, then?" he queried in the cautious tone of one ready to spring a trap.
"No," she calmly replied, leaving it at that.

I cannot arrest her for apostasy, thought the mullah, unless she is Moslem-born.
"Are you a Bahai?" the mullah asked, thinking he might be able to initiate steps towards arresting her if she belonged to that heretical offshoot of Islam which counted Zoroaster as one of the prophets in a flagrant contradiction of the Koran.

She again gave a laconic, "No."

"Good mullah," intervened Porzand, "in keeping with the spirit of azadi, the reason for our revolution against the shah, the Islamic Republic of Iran guarantees freedom for religious minorities. It is written into our constitution which is based upon the Koran."

Looking at Porzand and the Yazd magi while pointing to Shahrzad, the mullah asked, "Was she born a Zoroastrian?"

"Yes," replied the Yazd magi, nodding his head in the affirmative.

"In that case, show me her identification card," the mullah demanded.

The implications of the mullah's order jolted Romeen and Roxana as well as the two magi. Each of the four was about to verbally defend Shahrzad, but was preempted by Shahrzad herself.

"I have no identification card," said the mystic woman.

I've got her! thought the mullah.

Porzand intervened: "Good mullah, we are in the process of preparing the official documentation identifying her as a member of our community."

"Unacceptable," declared the mullah. "If she is truly Zoroastrian-born, then she must already have in her possession a card identifying her as such." The mullah extended his arm as if to grab hold of Shahrzad. Romeen instinctively moved forward as if to counter him, but was immediately blocked by one of the powerfully-built bodyguards. The mullah did not actually touch the mystic woman, but he did announce, "Moslem-born woman, I arrest you for the crimes of Apostasy and Disturbing of Public Opinion."

Collective groans permeated the room. Both magi wailed in sorrow. Romeen and Roxana stood in stunned silence.The taller Shahrzad and the shorter mullah stood facing each other, the mullah grinning, Shahrzad looking back at him with no trace of fear in her countenance. The bodyguards stood ready to pummel anyone daring to interfere with the arrest.

Roxana looked at Romeen, thinking, Do something, my husband. Save her, somehow, or forever be disgraced in my eyes.

Romeen looked at the tough guy challenging him, his mind taking into account all the situation's factors while trying to decide upon a course of action. Romeen was younger than any of the goons facing him, but each of them was considerably heftier than he. This clerical entourage was not composed of young novices inexperienced in the art of smashing heads, but practiced bruisers, veteran skull-smashers who had been practicing their craft since the overthrow of the shah.

Roxana looked around at the other people who had so recently been such ardent listeners. You herds of sheep! she mentally chided before thinking, What can I do? What can any of us do?

The face-off remained like a coiled spring about to unwind until Shahrzad turned from the mullah, stepped over to Romeen and said, "There is little you can do." She then turned to a tearful Roxana and said, "Don't worry. All will be well." Shahrzad turned again, faced the mullah and said, "Let us go quietly."

She walked out the door along with the enforcers. Roxana thought, Is she insane?

Everyone followed the mystic woman and exited the temple. The crowd stood outside at the top of the steps as Shahrzad descended the steps with her captors.

At the bottom of the steps, Shahrzad turned and faced the group that had listened to her recital. She raised her arm to wave good-bye, but before she could do so one of the theocratic policeman pushed her and snarled, "Get moving!" The listeners, as a group, lurched forward and cried out in collective protest, as if momentarily acting out a fantasy of deliverance.

"What you are doing is totally against Islam!" shouted one man. "You are undoing the civilizing influence of centuries!" shouted another.

Roxana was still crying when she heard her husband click on his cell phone. She looked at him as he dialed the number and awaited response. The ringing went on as he anxiously murmured, "Please answer, please answer." Eventually, Romeen heard an answering "Hello" and immediately recognized the voice as that of his sister in Tehran.

"Shahrzad," he said, "I must talk to father."

Over the cell phone, Romeen heard his sister's response from Tehran: "Father's away now. He should be back this evening."

"I must talk with him," said Romeen in an excited voice. "As soon as he gets home, tell him to stay put. I will call back."

"Romeen," asked his sister Shahrzad in a concerned voice, "is everything okay?"

"Roxana and I are okay," he replied. "It's something else. There is a legal case that father must get involved in. I'll explain everything this evening."

Romeen clicked off his cell phone and returned it to his suit pocket. He looked at his tear-eyed wife and said, "My father was once a high-ranking judge. He still has enough prestige to save her."

Although grateful that Romeen was at least trying to help, Roxana nevertheless continued to feel intense pangs of sorrow and loss. She bemoaned, "Shahrzad was granted only a brief moment to deliver her message. A door of hope opened just ajar, revealing the Holy Spirit before snapping shut." >>> To be continued >>> Previois parts

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