Ayatollah Khamenei Visits
The Family of martyr Emil Arjeron Azorian
Visit Date: 27/12/2005
The Photo of
Martyr Emil Arjeron Azorian
Martyred in Chazzabeh, Khuzistan
Martyred on 26/2/1983
our duty to help with the war-efforts in defence of our country. Well, he did and he was martyred somewhere near Chazzabeh in the south.
I have been informed that Iraqi airplanes were dropping bombs on roads and highways, so Emil and his assistant get out of truck and run to hide behind a hill, but the area had been mined and both of them lost their lives when some mines exploded.
His mourning ceremony was attended by some of the members of the “Construction Jihad” and we held our ceremony at Majidiya Church.
A few days after his martyrdom, an Armenian lady who had seen his photograph came to us weeping after finding out that he had died. My daughter asked her how she knew him and she said: We are a poor family, my husband has died, and we were in very bad financial conditions.
He used to help us by bringing us rice, cooking oil and foodstuff every month.
My daughter told her: don’t worry; we’ll do the same for you.
Emil loved Imam Hussein and his brother, Abolfazl, and every year he helped with the ceremonies of Tasua and Ashura (the days when the Imam and his brother were martyred in Karbala.)
For this reason some groups belonging to the Jihad took part in his mourning ceremonies.
While walking towards my daughter’s house, not far from my own, all these memories paraded in my mind.
When I got home, I noticed a few people standing in front of the house and inside it and I said to myself: If they’re guests, why don’t they go in!
I asked my daughter about this and she said that the guests have not arrived yet.
Who are they? I asked, and she said that Ayatollah Khamenei was the guest.
I don’t believe it, so I ask one of the men, and he assures me that it is true.
I become a little nervous as I’ve never met any government officials but the highest authority in the country is about to visit our bumble house at the time of celebrating Christmas.
Personally I like Mr. Khamenei and before him I had great love and respect for Imam Khomeini because he was such a great, courageous person.
One of my characteristics is that I hated bullies even in our own district and Imam Khomeini was the man who stood up against the greatest bullies in the world, that is, the USA and the Soviet Union. Khamenei has also followed his path courageously.
One of the bullies is already gone and I hope that America will also collapse!
My daughter is preparing tea and sweets in the kitchen.
She is, in my opinion, more than a man: for some 23 years she has stood up against all hardships and brought up his two sons properly.
I go and kiss her cheek and say: May God bless Emil, I wish he was here and would witness your honour and dignity.
She looks away; she doesn’t want me to see tears in her eyes and then she changes the subject.
At this time Sergei comes and says; the guest is about to arrive.
I want to go out and welcome the honorable guest but I’m told I’d better stay inside; they don’t want to attract a lot of attention.
Until I saw the Ayatollah, I couldn’t believe the Ayatollah has come to my daughter’s place.
He says ‘salam’ to all and warmly shakes hands with us’ with his left hand.
I say welcome and Mishel and Sergei who say welcome to him.
One of the Ayatollah’s companions informs him: These two are the sons of the martyr.
Ayatollah smiles at them in a warm, fatherly way, and even more warmly with my daughter.
Ayatollah Khamenei sits down on a two-seat armchair, I sat opposite him but very near and the Ayatollah tells Mishel, the elder brother, to sit next to him. Even on television I never witnessed anybody sitting so close to him!
Mr. Khamenei, when talking to Mishel, puts his hand on Mishel’s knee. He then asks about our family and I introduce everyone present and add: And I am the father of the martyr’s wife, unfortunately the martyr’s mother travelled to Tabriz this morning. My daughter adds: If mother knew that you would be coming here, she would have never gone to Tabriz to visit her daughter. One of the boys says: If grandma was here, she would be delighted to meet you.
The leader says: Please give my best regards to her.
As I am the eldest person present, he starts talking with me first with a kind, sweet smile: May God make your life more pleasant and reward you most properly and keep your daughter and your grand-sons in the best of health and happiness.
I say: Thank you, our prayers are also for your good health to live long to lead this country.
The leader turns to Mishel and asks: Well, what do you do?
ـ I run a shop.
ـ Why don’t you study?
ـ I did study up to a point and started to work in a shop.
ـ What did you study?
ـ Business management.
ـ Did you get your B.A.?
ـ I couldn’t finish the courses; the home expenses were high, so I opened the shop.
ـ What sort of shop do you have?
ـ We sell protein materials.
And after this, the Leader looks at Sergei and asks: How about you, dear son?
ـ I received a computer diploma and now help my brother in the shop.
ـ You could continue your studies, couldn’t you?
ـ Somehow I wasn’t lucky.
My daughter says: they’re both married.
The Leader asks: where do their families live?
ـ They do not live with us.
ـ Then you live here alone?
ـ Yes.
ـ So the boys are your guests this evening!
ـ Yes, they have come to their mother’s house.
And Mishel says: If they were here tonight, they would have been very happy; it is a great pity. The Leader says: God willing, you’ll be successful in life.
He adds: Do you have any children?
The boys reply: Not yet!
The boys smile and the older people laugh. The atmosphere has become so intimate, the earlier anxiety is gone and we are talking to Ayatollah Khamenei as close friends.
The Leader says: well, well, of course I like it when people get married in younger ages, I appreciate this.
My daughter and I agree with the Leader and say: This way they’ll manage to have a family earlier.
The Leader continues: Yes, then they’ll have to try hard and put their house in order.
Then he looks at the photo and asks my daughter: How old was he when he was martyred?
ـ He was 30 and we had been married for seven years.
ـ Which year?
ـ Early 1983 at the front in Chazzabeh area.
ـ Was he in the military?
ـ No, he worked in the Construction Jihad.
This juncture is the best part of our conversations, because each one of us narrates something about the martyr.
I say: He drove a truck loaded with foodstuff and he said that we shouldn’t allow our soldiers and fighters to suffer from shortages.
Sergei said: He volunteered to do this risky job; he even once stayed with soldiers at the front and helped with preparing trenches.
My daughter says: Only to help with the war-efforts.
The leader says: Commendable, may God give proper reward both to him and to you, especially to this lady who suffered much but managed to bring up two children.
My daughter says: I am now quite happy, they couldn’t finish their studies but they’re very good, hard-working sons, this is enough for me.
True, says the Leader, when you bring up good children, you yourself are the first person to be satisfied.
My daughter also says: He had an assistant-driver, a man from Neyshabur; my husband had told him that he should go by himself but the man rejected this. He had said to my martyred husband: No, my blood is not worthier than yours. So they drove together and were martyred together.
Yes, those years, we had groups of Armenian mechanics at the fronts, says the Leader.
My daughter says: they were sent by the Armenian Council of Khalifate.
That’s right, says the Leader and adds: I also have my own acquaintance with and memories of the Armenians.
I say to myself: What sort of memories could they be!
And the Leader continues:
ـ in the year 1963 I was in prison, in the infamous Ghezel Qala prison; it was one of the most horrible prisons in the Shah’s regime.
The prison had two sections called “single cells” and “public cells”. There was a young man in the public cells whose name was Gagik Avanesian. He was imprisoned for being an active member of the Tudeh (Communist) Party of Iran. I knew he was a leftist but I didn’t know he was a Tudeh member. My cell was a few rooms away from his. There were 23 cells in this section. Gradually Avanesian and I became friends. Among the prisoners there were some Arabs from Khuzistan. In the evenings of the month of the Ramadan, these Arabs would spread some blankets in the corridors to perform some rituals concerning this holy month. The widths of the corridors were about 1.5 or 2 meters. They used to ask me to join them and preach for them, and I, as a clergyman, joined them, and talked to them about Imam Ali and other Islamic subjects.
Avanesian had a folding-chair. At these occasions he would come and sit on his chair at a distance and listened to our religious ceremony; he seemed to like what we did and said, and we talked with each other a few times; he was attracted to my comments.
These ceremonies also required some expenses for tea, sugar and the like. Every evening one person would provide them. Avanesian came to me and said: I am a Christian but I like to provide the required stuff for one evening. I told him it was alright. One evening, after our rituals he said: For tomorrow evening I shall provide everything.
Any way gradually we were friends. He was a Communist but, apart from that, he was a very kind, polite, well-mannered and a good friend for me. Sometimes we were allowed to go to the yard to do some exercise; we did our exercises together. He knew good English and said he would like to help me improve my English.
Anyway, as I said, we were good friends. He was later sentenced to a few years of imprisonment, so, when I was about to be released, I went to him and said: Is there anything I can do for you when I am outside? And he said that his apartment was in Shemiran and that, if I could, it would be nice to pay a visit there and see if my wife needs anything.
So when I was released, I tried hard to find this apartment and after questioning a few people, I found the place; there were many stairs, I walked up and knocked at the door. An Armenian lady opened the door; there were also a few children about her. I said to her: I was in prison together with Mr. Avanesian, we were friends there. I’ve come here to ask you if I can do any service for you. The lady said in a very cold voice: No, I don’t need anything! Here the Leader loughs and adds: well, maybe she was right: a clergyman has come to us and talks about politics, prison and the like; the whole thing was unusual in her view. She behaved coldly and didn’t pay any attention. Then I went to Mashhad for a couple of weeks and when I returned to Tehran, I went to Ghezel Qala Prison to meet friends there including Avanesian. I had purchased some fruits, sweets, biscuits and cigarettes for them. They had come out of their cells to meet visitors but when I was there, they never allowed me to meet any visitors.
To cut a long story short, after the Revolution, I came out of my house on Iran Street to do some errand and I saw an old man coming towards me. Well, many years had passed, some 16 years, since we were in prison together. I couldn’t recognize him but he said; I’m Gagik Avanesian!
We were all most excited by the Leader’s narration and the boys could not take their eyes away from him. We had completely forgotten that we have some guests and that we haven’t offered them anything, so my daughter goes to the kitchen to bring something.
In the meantime, the Leader talks about the boys’ names: Mishel, well, it’s pronounced and written differently in various languages such as Michel, Mikail, Miikhael, and the French say Michel, pronounced as your grandson’s name.
He also talks about my name Abraham which in Persian and Arabic is Ebrahim. Then my daughter brings tea in glasses and Mishel gets up to lay one in front of the Leader when he says: please bring me one in a smaller glass! We are really impressed by the Leader’s simple, kind manners. Sergei offers the Leader a piece of creamy cake but he says: Thank you, I’ll have it with a little sugar.
I take advantage of the moment and say to him what is really in my heart: Your stepping into our house, has blessed this place, I hope you’ll stay strong and in good health for many years to come.
And the Leader says: I hope that God Almighty will keep you in his protection and I pray that you all will be truly happy in your hearts.
My daughter is standing to offer entertainments but the Leader says: You please sit down; my companions will do the job.
I take a look at his companions; they are mostly young, very simply dressed and I notice the photographer among them and say: Please take a photo of us with Ayatollah Khamenei; we want to boast that the Leader was with us once! The photographer aims his camera at us and the Leader smiles when he’s taking the photo and then says to the photographer: Don’t forget to give it to the family.
Then he goes on talking to the boy about their shop and their work and Mishel says: well, our job is somehow tough. And the Leader says: Well, you also do tough jobs like your grand-father!
Mishel adds: it’s true, for after my father’s martyrdom, it was grand-pa who took care of us, expenses and everything and I say: No, it was no trouble because you are such good boys and you are in good health, that’s enough for me. The Ayatollah says: Thank God, thank God, may God protect them for you.
He then asks the boy about their church-going, and they say: we go once a week.
He then drinks his tea and again takes a deep look at Emil’s photo and comments: The feeling that this martyr creates in others is most valuable, a young man, who has a wife and two children, goes to war-fronts to help, this spirit is something that must be revered by all, most valuable, we are all indebted to such personalities.
Mishel says: Well, one who is born and bred in this country is obligated to defend his country, his family and his honour by shedding his blood.
The Leader says: You’re right but such things are easier said than done! For those who really practice them are valuable personalities; you may encounter a young man who is very knowledgeable but he possesses this spirit, this will and the strength to ignore many worldly attractions, not every person could afford it.
Now my daughter, the martyr’s wife says: true, true, believe me, the night before his departure he said: I know I’ll be the target of some bullets, some grenades or bombs. I turned to him and said: Well, if you’re sure that something like that happens, then don’t go, you don’t have to. And he said: I swear to God, I cannot help going. Then he wrote his will and went away.
My daughter cannot go on, no one says anything for a few moments, we are looking at the martyr’s photo. Finally it is the Leader who breaks the silence and tells everyone, including his companions: Why don’t you have your teas?
And, then one of the companions hands him two small boxes and the Leader gives one to my daughter and says: this other one is for the martyr’s mother who is not here.
I thank him and say: Your visit was the greatest gift we received.
The Leader says: their material worth is not important, they’re as keep-sakes of our meeting with you. and then he gets up to say farewell.
He is about to leave and I already feel that I miss him. During the last minutes my affection and love for him has doubled and I feel that I like him as much as I liked Imam Khomeini.