Seti Pir has a different atmosphere

Aftab Yazdani: I remember, in my childhood, what Seti Pir meant for me.  This shrine was a place full of trees with the aroma of incense everywhere.
A Pir that had three Pir’s in itself.  The whole place was built of plaster made of clay and straw and gave the familiar odor of mud.
In those days, whenever we got the time we would get ready and go to Seti Pir (it is close to the city).
But since these past years that I am caught in the traffic and pollution of Tehran I cannot get ready and go to Seti Pir whenever I feel nostalgic.  I have to wait till the opportunity arises to travel to Yazd.  And, until then, I can keep happy with its thoughts.  I have visited this Pir many, many times in these past years, either alone or with friends and relatives.  Each time, I noticed a little change, and blamed the passing of time, but Seti Pir still was as glorious as ever.
But this time, a few days back, after visiting my favorite Pir, I got the shock of my life.  There was no sign of the clay and straw plaster walls, the aroma of incense in the Pir.  Everything looked strange, ruined and in a mess.  The floor was dug up and the walls were half way covered with stone.
Nothing was in its place.  The cabinet holding the prayer books, though safe, looked lonely and neglected.  The oil cup, though burning, looked so lonely.
I remember so well there was a small room in the middle of the Pir in which there was a well and an oil lamp burning above it.  To reach the well we had to climb some stairs.  The small door to the room would make us bend and enter the room in a bowing position.  The story of bending heads and bodies was the story of entrances to all Pirs.  My mother would say:  “Holy places were built this way so that you bend when entering, as a sign of respect.”
But, some time back the door of the small well room was broken and built taller.  We no more had to bend and would enter with straight backs.  We slowly forgot this change but when I went this time I noted that this became the story of all doors of the Pir.  Maybe the renovators thought that we belong to the 20th century and are important people.  Or maybe, they thought that those who built the Pir’s in those ages were short in height and so built the doors to suit their size!  Or, maybe they knew the philosophy but it had no value for them.
I do not mean only the entrance doors of Seti Pir.  This Pir is only one of all others which have had the same fate.  I mean that if the buildings, the memories, the stories, the customs and cultures have no value, why then, have our ancestors tried so hard to preserve them and now we are behaving so self-destructively?
I am trying to say that now that you are spending so much, why don’t you try renovating Seti Pir and preserving its original structure at the same time, to preserve the feeling that it creates for the pilgrims, with the same peace and calm that it gives to the people?
What happened that you think people like Seti Pir more in this style?  Have you (I mean whoever is renovating the Pir) even once asked the people how they want the Pir to be?
To tell the truth I have asked a few and they all are unhappy that Seti Pir is going to wear new clothes and they dislike the stones, flooring and iron doors which have no congruence with the Pir.
The custodian of Seti Pir came towards me.  I knew him from childhood with his pleasant nature.  I asked him:  “Why have you done this to the Pir.  Seti Pir does not have the same awe and aroma as before.”
He frowned and said:  “Don’t say this.  All the walls and foundations have decayed.  If we would not repair it now, it would fall on us very soon.  Instead of complaining, try to find some donor to finish the renovation.”
The story sounded funny.  One charitable person has paid for destroying the Pir.  Fine, God less him.  But this is just part of the work.  I do not know who is supervising this project, but after destroying the place they are looking for donors to rebuild it!
I told myself to forget the topic.  At least something should be done that the Pir does not stay in this mess for long.  Let us help it to be rebuilt, though it is not going to be like before.
I felt very sad that now, instead of moving my hands on the clay and straw walls I have to lean to stones.  Instead of bending to enter which has a deep spiritual meaning, we have to enter like entering any odd place.  I cannot understand.  If the walls and foundation are decayed, can’t they be repaired and renovated to keep its original structure?
I felt it that nobody asks our opinion; neither mine nor yours, and think what they are doing is correct.
This trip to Yazd left a heavy feeling in me.  In spite of everything, I hope that some charitable donor will contribute for the expenses of renovation of this ancient pilgrimage site.
Wish we would not take such hasty steps for our precious heritage.
















 





photographer: Aftab Yazdani
Translation by Rowshan Lohrasbpour