Читать книгу The Tragedy of Islam - Imam Mohammad Tawhidi - Страница 12

Australia was always home, and my social life in Australia was very healthy. The mixing of males and females is highly frowned upon within Muslim culture, which meant most of my friends were male. Alongside all my social engagements as a developing teenager in Western Australia, I was deeply influenced by one of our Shia Muslim community clerics. I have chosen to keep his name private throughout this chapter considering the change of career he underwent, and shall refer to him as “the Sayed.”*I saw him as my second father. I loved him deeply and still regard him as a dear person. It was he who paved the way for me to pursue religious studies. Every weekend, I would spend time at his house located within our suburb, Ballajura, in Western Australia. He was one of my father’s closest friends. I along with my childhood friends, a group of approximately 12 to 15 boys, would gather at the Sayed’s house to learn about Islam. It was a very friendly atmosphere, highly educational and very rewarding. The Sayed encouraged me to begin delivering short sermons and eulogies during community events and gatherings and, although I knew it was not going to be my career, it made both me and my parents happy.

Although the Sayed was a Shia Muslim cleric, I also had frequent engagements with my coordinator from high school, who in recent years has taken on the role of an imam. He was and still is a fundamentalist, and an extremist Muslim. I was taught the basics of Islam in his lessons. Once I left the Islamic college to attend a public Australian school in 2006, I lost contact with him, although we did initiate contact with each other ten years later, during early 2017, as he unsuccessfully attempted to persuade me to stop criticizing fundamentalist Muslims in the media, because he believed that “doing so does not serve Islam.”

In 2006, the Sayed came to visit my father one evening to discuss an idea he had in mind. The idea was to begin educational Islamic tours from Australia to Iran, and that our group of around 20 people would be the first group to participate in this educational tour. My father was very supportive of this idea, because he thought it would be a valuable experience for us young men to go to the Middle East and see what life is like there. My father believed that our group had a lot to learn about life in the Middle East, and that a short trip would increase our appreciation of the privileges and advantages we had in Australia, as opposed to what our parents had when growing up in the Middle East.

My father asked me what I thought about a short trip to Iran during the school holidays. I was very excited and positive in my response, especially knowing that I would be engaging in studies to increase my knowledge of Islam. My friends and I got together and spoke about this trip for over two weeks as we anticipated boarding the plane to travel to the holy lands of Qum and Mashhad. I gradually began to prepare my travel luggage, making sure I took everything I needed with me on this holy trip. Eventually the time came for me to board the plane, and after a long and tiring flight from Perth, Western Australia to Tehran with two stops on the way, we reached Imam Khomeini Airport just after midnight. The doors of the plane opened and I could feel the coldness of the Persian winter embrace us. The moment we stepped foot out of the airport, I felt the cold breeze penetrate my bones. It was indeed cold, very cold.

Luckily, Sayed had arranged a taxi van which was waiting for us outside the airport. We walked in a group like penguins, shivering in the cold while carrying our heavy luggage. We all crammed into the freezing van and begged the driver to turn on the heating because the leather seats were also extremely cold. The van exited Tehran airport and I began to notice and read the road signs in Persian. My tears began to flow when I read a sign say “Qum,” and my body began to shake. My face was soaked with tears by the time we reached the city, and many may wonder why this happened to me. I have a deep spiritual connection with the city of Qum. It was where I was born, and where I spent many productive years. In Qum, I lived in times of hardship, I passed the tests of life, and it made me a man. My body shakes every time I remember myself walking in the alleyways of that city, and breathing its air. I will never be able to describe the love I have for the city of Qum, never. It is something that lives within me every day. I submit that love is not something we can control, and I am emotionally attached to Qum.

We reached Qum before dawn, and it was snowing. I set foot on the road, and bent down to touch the ground with my hands once again. We were also hungry, thus Sayed decided to eat kaleh pacheh, because that was the only thing available to eat at the time. Kaleh pacheh is a dish of boiled cow or sheep’s feet and/or head; although other cow parts, such as the brain, head and stomach (tripe) may also be used. I took a look at the plate and said, “No, thank you,” and I exited the shop to wait in the cold. I have never gone anywhere near that dish, or anything similar to it, to this very day.

We heard the call to dawn prayer, and we headed to the Holy Shrine of Qum, located no more than a couple of minutes away. The shrine marking the gravestone of Fatimah Masumeh is considered to be the second most sacred place after Mashhad to Shia Muslims in Iran. Fatima Masumeh was a descendant of Prophet Mohammad who is therefore honored as a saint, and her shrine in Qum is considered one of the most significant shrines in Islam. Every year, thousands of Muslims travel to Qum to honor Fatima Masumeh and ask her for her blessings. Fatima Masumeh is honored in many hadiths, or teachings, from Shia imams that proclaim the benefits of visiting her shrine in Qum. Islamic scriptures teach that a visit to the shrine of Fatima Masumeh guarantees paradise. Being a practicing Muslim who was also born only two roads away from her shrine, I have always felt spiritually and emotionally attached to her. And here I was once again with a group of friends, standing before her tomb, offering my dawn prayers.

We headed towards one of the most prominent seminaries, located just off the “Jihad Roundabout” (Meydan-e-Jihad), known as Imam Khomeini Islamic Seminary. This university was made up of two sections, one for permanent students and another for short and temporary courses. The latter was the section of the university where we were to spend the next month. We were all taken to our dormitories, and shown our beds. All twenty of us were placed in three large rooms. The next morning our course began on the ground floor. We were all taught four lessons a day by Shia Muslim clerics who spoke in English. Even though some of my friends missed several classes, I did not miss one lesson during the entire trip. I was amazed and inspired by the entire religious and spiritual atmosphere. I fell in love with the entire program and contacted my father during the third week in Iran, asking him if I could stay and pursue my studies. My father’s response was positive; however, he suggested that I return to Australia to prepare myself before making such a big and serious decision that could – and did in fact – shape the direction of my life.

We travelled to fascinating cities such as Isfahan, Mashhad, Shiraz, and Tehran before heading back to Australia. Each one of these cities had sacred shrines that have motivated me to live a strictly religious life. The shrine in Tehran belonged to Imam Khomeini, whose character in those early days I grew to love very dearly, and the shrine in Mashhad was the tomb of Imam Redha, Shia Islam’s eighth successor and a descendant of Prophet Mohammad.

When our one-month short-term study course in Qum ended, we returned directly to Australia. I had very much adapted to the spiritual lifestyle and atmosphere of Iran, but I deeply loved Australia. I began to yearn to return to Iran in order to complete my studies. My family did not have the financial means to support my overseas education; therefore, I began to work in a fruit and vegetable shop (Morley Fresh) to save enough money to travel back to Iran. I initiated contact with Al Mustafa International University, informing them of my intention to return and become a full-time student in Iran. I was told that I had to wait for a response from the university. Five months passed, and I received no response. My father, who had many friends still residing in Iran, asked one of them to pay the university a visit to check on my application on my behalf. Now that a friend of ours was following up my application in Iran, I had two remaining tasks: to work, and to wait.

One morning in 2007 my father’s phone rang as we were at the dining table eating dinner. I reached out for the phone and handed it over to my father. Overhearing the conversation, I realized that it was his friend in Iran who was following up my university application. My father made a gesture with his hand that confirmed to me that I had been accepted. This was the happiest I had ever been in my entire life. Relocating to Iran in order to engage in Islamic studies was the most important choice I had made, and I will forever be proud of this decision.

The Sayed, who led our group to Iran in 2006, received this news and gathered members of the Muslim community in Western Australia to announce to them that I, being the son of the state’s leading Shia imam at the time, would be relocating to Iran to pursue advanced Islamic studies. This meant that out of the entire group that had travelled to Iran to study Islam, I was the only one to return. This was seen by members of the community not only as good news, but also a religious blessing. After waves of praise and encouragement, I bid farewell to the gathering that had composed my relatives and friends, some of whom I had known from Iran from the age of three.

I began to gradually prepare my bags and organise my luggage. I had purchased a vehicle to get to and from work and, in order to support me, my father purchased it from me for the same amount I had paid for it. With more encouragement from friends and family, I returned to Iran to pursue my dream.