Tehran- IRAF-people are still in shock; it seems many still do not believe, or do not want to believe, that the Supreme Leader, Grand Ayatollah Imam Khamenei, is no longer among us.
The noble martyrdom of the Leader has placed a heavy burden on the hearts of all free people, especially Muslims. Although he achieved his long-cherished wish through attaining martyrdom, the hearts of millions of Muslims ache in his absence, and an agonizing pain burns deep into their souls.
It makes no difference whether one is Iranian or Afghan, Iraqi or Lebanese, Pakistani or Indian; the love for the Leader knows no bounds. He was undoubtedly the master of all, the leader of all. The true deputy of Imam Zaman (AJ) was never confined by nationality and never differentiated among the unified Islamic nations.
Now, in his absence, in addition to Muslims, in addition to oppressed nations and the downtrodden, all free people of the world are also shedding tears. Everything is clear and transparent: on one side are Yazid and the Yazidis; on the other, are Hussein and the Husseinis. On one side is the Epstein case and the blood of the children of Gaza; on the other, a man whose heart beats for every single oppressed person in the world.
This is Golshahr, a neighborhood on the outskirts of Mashhad, where faces reveal nationality. This is the neighborhood of Afghan migrants, a place that has known no peace or rest since the news of the Leader’s martyrdom was announced, and black flags have been hoisted over the entrances of most homes.
A frail old woman with a stooped posture and trembling hands holds a picture of the martyred Leader, wandering back and forth, wailing and lamenting. It is as if she is looking for someone to share her sorrow with for a few moments.
She walks and moans: “Our master is gone, our leader is gone; we are now helpless, we are now without an Imam.” I move closer to hear her words. Amidst her cries and wails, she says: “Oh God, grant strength to the Mujahideen of Iran to tear down the house of oppression upon its occupants. Oh God, let Hazrat Mahdi (AJ) take revenge for the blood of our Leader from these murderers…”
When she sees that I am taking pictures, she approaches and gestures for me to take her photo. Her hands are visibly shaking, so much so that she cannot even hold the picture of the Leader for a moment. Somehow, she stands firm and raises the Leader’s photo. After I take her picture, she says: “My eyes have no more tears to shed. I have been crying since the moment the television announced the Leader was martyred until now. I don’t know where to go, I don’t know what to do? After all, this world has no value for me without the Leader.”
The prayer leader of a nearby mosque, approaches and tells the old woman: “My dear mother, the Imam is gone, but the God of the Imam has not gone; the Islam of the Imam has not gone. Cry, cry as much as you can in his absence, but know that the blood of this great Leader will keep Islam alive. Don’t you see the uproar that has erupted in the world? Be sure that Hazrat Mahdi (AJ) will eventually come and take revenge for the blood of Sayyid Ali.”
The old woman seems to calm down and says: “May God Himself come to the aid of all of us; we are strangers, and he was the Imam of the strangers.”
I look around; the crowd that has gathered to mourn their Imam is growing moment by moment. Everyone has come; their tired faces show that most of them are laborers who have stopped working to observe the mourning for their Leader. He was the Imam of all, and even more so, the Imam of the oppressed…
