Story 2 - Part 7: The Political Figure

After Haji Ali left, I quickly tidied myself up and told my wife, “I have a meeting.” I left her stunned and went to the market to see how the world was doing. After exchanging greetings with the local shopkeepers, I realized that my reputation had spread, and for about ten to fifteen days, I could manage on credit. I smiled to myself and said, “Long live Sheikh Ja’far, the Cotton Cleaner, the leader of the Iranian people! Kaveh of his time, long live him!” A few people gathered around me, and after they had cleaned up some of my greens, they each slowly began complaining about someone, as if I were a judge or the village mayor. One person claimed that a certain noble had forcibly evicted him from his home and taken his property. Another complained about being pressured by a religious scholar to divorce his wife, who was apparently attractive, and how the scholar had then married her. By the time I reached the market, I had heard enough complaints to fill a century of Tehran’s legal disputes. Meanwhile, I kept offering empty promises and saying things like, “May God bless you,” and “May He defeat your enemies.”

I began to realize that a political career, like the chain of Anushirvan’s justice, would require me to be constantly involved in the disputes of others. I thought to myself that if I had the life of Khidr, I still wouldn’t have enough time to handle all these cases. Slowly, I reached the market, and secretly I tried to calm myself down, but outwardly, I put on a cheerful face, greeting people as if I had been a village cleric for fifty years. People kept asking, “What is the news, Sheikh?” and I responded cryptically, with answers like “God have mercy,” “It’s not too bad,” “There’s hope,” “The situation is tight,” and so on. I also tried to use some of the political words Haji Ali had taught me.