Esfahan – Arbain

20 Safar in Islamic lunar calendar is remembered by the Shiite Muslims as Arbain. In Arabic, Arbain means 40. Arbain marks the 40th day after the death of Imam Hossain (10 Muharram, known as Ashura) in the holy war of Qarbala against Muawiyyah dynasty led by Yazid.

When I was in Pakistan, I followed the Shiite’s 40 days of mourning, since Ashura (10 Muharram) until Chehlum (20 Safar). In Pakistan, Arbain is known as Chehlum, a Farsi word which means ‘the fortieth’. Interestingly in Iran, the country where Farsi is spoken, they chose to use Arabic word to name the day. Chehlum in Pakistan is a bloody procession. Young boys paraded on streets of earthquake-torn town of Muzaffarabad, while whipping themselves with sharp knives known as zanjir. Check Chehlum Gallery and Chehlum in Muzaffarabad

At that time I didn’t speak Farsi and I was unaware that the Shiites in Pakistan used huge amount of terms taken from Farsi language. Interestingly when I attended the procession in Iran, they preferred to use Arabic terms.

In Esfahan I experienced a very different way of commemorating Arbain, the end of the mourning period. I went to the Imam Square. Most shops were closed. People were respecting the holiday. I was told that I should go to the mosques instead, as nothing would happen in the square but people picnicking for holiday.

I went to a mosque. As in Pakistan, there was a huge crowd of devotees. People were listening to an orator. It was a majlis. The orator talked about the suffering of Imam Hossain. Some boys were distributing books and pamphlets. I stuck into a black-covered book, with a huge skeleton sign on its cover. It was titled ‘www.(a picture of skeleton).com’. I didn’t know how to access that website address, as I couldn’t find the symbol of a skeleton on my computer keyboard. I wondered what the book talked about, as everything was written only in Persian Arabic script.

Everybody wore black. The woman section reminded us to the old image of the early years of the Islamic Republic, sea of black chador. People were listening to the speech in concentration. I was told by the program organizer that today there would be only majlis, continued by lunch provided by the mosque community. I was told, if I wanted to know more about Arbain tradition I should go to the martyr square.

The Martyr Square, as shown by its name, was the place where the martyrs of wars were resting. Iran suffered a lot during the 8 years of Iran-Iraq war, known as the holy years of defense. Millions of Iranians were killed. Most of them were voluntary fighters; all were ready for death, martyrdom. Now their bodies rest peacefully, in lines and rows of cemetery, in the martyr square.

On Arbain, the Martyr Cemetery was full of pilgrims. Each tomb had a black and white photo of the martyr, and was highlighted by Iranian flag, symbol of God, and also stylized floral decoration. Women in black chador sat devoutly next to the graves of their relatives, chanting some verses passionately, and tears welled up all the time. An old woman couldn’t hold her emotion when the orator in the hall nearby chanting a sad song. She beat her chest, crying emotionally, while reading verses for the soul in the grave she sat next to.

It was sad to see the photos of those graves. Many of the victims were young and handsome. Some were even younger than me when they passed away. Nobody expected that the war with Iraq last for 8 years, claimed so many souls on both sides. After the war, the proportion between male and female population in Iran dramatically unbalanced.

Being a martyr is a pride for Muslims. In the mourning period from Ashura to Arbain, people were always reminded to the martyrdom of Hossain a.s., who by that time was a young fighter, willing to sacrifice his life to defend the truth. The Shiites have great affection towards Ali and his family (Hossain was Ali’s son) and the spirit of martyrdom of Hossain was applied factually in the Islamic Revolution and war with Iraq. Being a martyr was not something to be grieved about. A father should be proud, instead of regretting, when his son died in defending his nation and religion.

Unlike my experience in Pakistan last year, the spirit of the mourning period in Iran – the only Shiite country in the world – was far from blood. There was no zanjirzani (self whipping with knives). Zanjirzani in most parts of Iran were performed only on Ashora and not on Arbain. The beating procession, instead of being bloddy, was merely a symbolic ceremony. The knives were small, dull. One would not die even if he whipped himself with the knives the whole day. In fact, bloody festivals were forbidden in Iran, and most people I met nowadays saw that kind of procession was ridiculous. When I showed the photos of Chehlum in Pakistan of young boys got bloody with the chains of sharp knives, one Iranian guy exclaimed, “Shiites outside Iran are more fanatics. In Iraq they even whip their own heads with big knives.” Other condemned such bloody festival by saying it was crazy.

The city of Esfahan, on Arbain day, was very quiet. Most shops were closed down during the day. Only food was easy to find. Some clothes shops were opened also, as now was high season for shopping to prepare for the New Year.

The whole day I was only overwhelmed by the spirit of sacrifice, shown by mute black and white photos of young men martyred during the wars. Those photos, in their voiceless seconds, talked much more about pride, love, and devotion, stronger than cries of under-aged boys and red blood which exploded from their backs when whipping themselves with sharp knives. Those mute photos didn’t need thousands words to explain the meaning of sacrifice.