I remember going to Chak Chak (Pir-e Sabz) as a child and seeing this mystical place while remaining in awe. On one of the visits we went for the yearly celebration, and Chak Chak was filled with singing, the beautiful aroma of sandalwood, and laughter. It was incredible to go back and see how this sacred site has not changed.
As I walked up the path to the temple, the priest that tended to the site was telling me the story of Nik Banu. Nik Banu was the third and youngest daughter of Yazdgerd III, the last Shah of the Sassanid Empire before the Arab invasion.
The story goes as follows: upon the advance of Arab soldiers into the Iranian heartland, Yazdgerd sent Hayatbanu (also referred to as Nikbanu or Banu-Pars in some sources) on horseback to evade capture. In a dream, she heard that if she calls Ya-hoo she will be saved in times of danger. As the soldiers were gaining on her at the foot of a mountain, Hayatbanu prayed for protection and the mountain opened up and devoured her in a crevice sheltering her from her would-be capturers. Unable to return, Hayatbanu remained in the cave and dedicated her life to worship and prayer.
It is said that a tree grew from the place where she rested her walking staff and that a constant slow drip of water flowed from the mountain that has not stopped ever since. Indeed, the name Chak Chak (literally: “Drip Drip”) refers to the sound of constant water drops descending into the cave inside the mountain, which symbolizes Hayatbanu’s tears upon the loss of her family and home, but has also come to symbolize, over time, the tears of the oppressed and the poor.
Taking a moment to calm my mind and sit for prayer, I closed my eyes to hear chak chak. It is hard not to reflect upon this story, and be reminded that the community has continued to maintain the Zoroastrian culture and heritage.
Looking up out onto the mountains, I am hopeful for the future.
