I have been thinking of my grandmother lately; perhaps because of Ramadan. We woke up before dawn, to pray and to eat--as is common to do in preparation for fasting. We didn't fast always, but the dawn prayer call would wake us up and it was a pleasant spiritual experience--which I miss despite all my religiouslessness. In my life I have fasted a total of 13 days, 3 of them when I was 11--and no I didn't die, and no I wasn't forced, if anything I was discouraged by my parents. I loved getting up at dawn because that was a good time to ask her for after-prayer stories. What is it with children's love to hear the same story, again, again and again?
My grandmother had an amazing memory for details, and a great narrative style, and infinite patience and love for us. These days, one of her stories has occupied me most--perhaps because I have been reading too many vengeful rants from all sorts of people claiming all sorts of violent justice, from one another.
The story was of her only blood-brother being killed "accidentally" by a half brother who was cleaning his rifle on the eve of another brother's wedding. Her stories of my ancestors were full of romantics: Mountains, guns and horses, intrigues of power, lust for brides enamored in gold, love for grooms of legendary bravery, broken hearts and broken promises, even poison and murder. And this accidental shooting too was a suspected murder; for the brother who was killed was a beautiful one, a brave one, one of great stars to one day lead the clan--or so thought the grieving great grandmother. But the morale of the story was this: that when they brought the handcuffed 'killer' to her mother, she asked him to be released, not seeking vengeance; and leaving it for "God" to decide on the Judgement Day.
...
The story of "leaving justice to god, until the judgement day" is a prevalent one in my culture, one in whose root there is a deep recognition that earthy REVENGE cannot undo the wrong; that it can only make more wrong. Islam, for sure, allows retribution: An Eye for an Eye; but the version of Islam that is practiced in Iran also provisions for forgiveness. Many think it is a flaw in the judiciary system to burden the family of the victim with the verdict to carry the punishment or not. But the silver lining is that the culture flexes the laws to allow (and in fact it applaudes) the individual "choice" for forgiveness.
...
Many years ago, a group of criminals had kidnapped a child of a distant cousin (she was the great granddaughter of my great grandmother). The kidnappers were arrested before collecting ransom. Their punishment by the law would have been death. But the great cousin let them live: "Let leave their punishment for god's decision on the judgement day.", I recall her telling my mother.
...
At the end of Ramadan, it is customary for the king to hand in pardons. This year, 930 Iranian prisoners have received either a pardon or a reduction of the sentence.
...
The story of "leaving justice to god, until the judgement day" is a prevalent one in my culture, one in whose root there is a deep recognition that earthy REVENGE cannot undo the wrong; that it can only make more wrong. Islam, for sure, allows retribution: An Eye for an Eye; but the version of Islam that is practiced in Iran also provisions for forgiveness. Many think it is a flaw in the judiciary system to burden the family of the victim with the verdict to carry the punishment or not. But the silver lining is that the culture flexes the laws to allow (and in fact it applaudes) the individual "choice" for forgiveness.
...
Many years ago, a group of criminals had kidnapped a child of a distant cousin (she was the great granddaughter of my great grandmother). The kidnappers were arrested before collecting ransom. Their punishment by the law would have been death. But the great cousin let them live: "Let leave their punishment for god's decision on the judgement day.", I recall her telling my mother.
...
At the end of Ramadan, it is customary for the king to hand in pardons. This year, 930 Iranian prisoners have received either a pardon or a reduction of the sentence.