June come again,emm...nothing to share.Just a little story to keep this blog updated.A story about someone who lives long time ago.
A story about Rozeba.He lives in Persia.A small town called Jiyye for exact.His dad was a rich landlord and a powerful political figure in the town and its surrounding areas.He had much property in the city,and a vast estates in the country.Since Rozeba was his only child,he lavished all his love upon him.If Rozeba went out to play with other children,there will be someone looks after him.Most Persian in those days were Zoroastrians,so he was also taught the principles and doctrines of Zoroastrianism.He was an incredibly precocious child,exhibited amazing interest and ability at assimilating new knowledge.He knew as much as his own teachers and the priests of the Zoroastrian fire temple did when he was in his early teen.The recondite ideas of the Persian national belief in the cosmic war between Light and Darkness.
In those days,priesthood was one of the blue ribbon careers open to young men of ambition cause its brought status,dignity,prestige and numerous perquisites.Since the priests could reach high positions in national governments,his dad managed to get him appointed as a priest in the local fire temple while he was only sixteen years old.Hopes that one day his son will be in a political career just likes him.
Rozeba thus became one of the priests of the fire temple of Jiyye.It was his duty,each morning,to open its gates,to check maintenance,and to assign duties to the crew.In the evening he returned,with other priests,to conduct the service.Rozeba especially admired one stone which looked like the living heart of light.
In the beginning,he was happy at his job,and he enjoyed the prestige that it brought to him and to his family.For many hours every day he sat,lulled by music,and watching in fascination,the wild and erratic dance of flames racing out of the "eternal fire".
For three years,he played priest in the fire temple of Jiyye but then he began to lose interest in his work.The incantations of the priests were repetitious,dreary and empty of meaning.They were men of limited vision and limited knowledge.If he posed any creedal question to them,they were,in most cases,unable to answer him.They tried to dismiss his questions as impertinent,or they tried to browbeat him into silence.
Rozeba vaguely felt that his soul thirsted for something else,something that was mysterious and elusive.He did not know what it was but whatever it is,he sensed that he could not find it in the cult of Zoroastrianism.
One day in spring,his dad asked him to attend some important business at one of his country houses.The following day was a Sunday.Rozeba rose long before the 'false dawn',got dressed,and left his home,riding his sleek,muscular and richly caparisoned horse,through the serpentine streets and sinuous lanes of Jiyye.Soon he was out of its walls.That morning,in all its dewy and pristine freshness,had the impact of revelation upon him.He had not realized until then that a morning could be so beautiful.
Then a greystone edifice,partly veiled in golden midst caught his eye.It was a newly built structure,and its style of architecture was different.He decided to find out what it was and to whom did it belong.He went near it to take a closer look at it.The door of the edifice was open,and he heard some men singing in it.They were singing a hymn in a foreign language which he did not understand.He sat down quietly in the rear of the hall,and enjoyed the soothing music.When the service was over,one member of the congregation came to him,greeted him,asked him who he was and was was the purpose of his visit.
Rozeba told him who he was,and explained that he wished to know who they were,and what creed it was that they professed.....
So,what do you think about this story? and what will happen to this boy in the end? wanna know more..emm... i will write about the rest of the story if i get any feedback from you.
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