TEMPLE of DIVINE GODDESS ÂNÂHITÂ. ROYAL CITY of HAGMÂTÂNA
The NIGHT before NO’ROUZ
FESTIVAL of FRAWARDIGÂN
Crackling Arabâya incense. Flickering fire altar.
Honoring the ancestors, remembering the dead, whispering sacred words of Avesta under the breath.
“I worship the Wise Lord…”
Pushing back a tear…
“This I ask you, My Lord, tell me truly,
Who is the Creator, the Wise Lord of Righteousness?
… and who is the Destroyer, the Dark Lord of Wickedness?
Who sets the path for the sun, the moon and the little stars?
… and who makes the moon first wax and then wane?
Who, My Lord?
… all this and more I wish to know, My Lord…”
Taking a deep breath…
“This I ask you, My Lord, tell me truly,
Who holds the earth below and the sky above from falling?
Who created the Lands and the Waters?
Who created the wind and the clouds?
… the rain… and the Royal Fire?
Who, I wonder, My Lord?
All this and more I wish to know, My Lord…”
Rošanak pauses and then continues. “Divine Ânâhitâ, the Mother Goddess, who makes the seeds of all men pure, who makes the womb of all women pure for bringing forth…”
She closes her eyes, another tear falls on her face.
What was the purpose of her life? If not to bear fruit and bring forth sons?
“Roshanak… are you crying again?”
“Ah!” She opens her eyes. She looks around, startled.
There was no one in the âyadana, except for her and an old athravan.
She was losing her reason… going mad… hearing voices…
She takes a deep breath and puts another handful of Arabâya incense in the silvery fire altar. Hephćstion’s loved voice whispers again in her ear softly.
“Women are a mystery to men… even Queens to Kings…”
“What shall I tell Alexander?”
“The truth… tell him the truth…”
“He would leave me again…”
“He never goes very far, does he?”
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