Recently, I came across a valuable and informative book in which the author speaks about is fatherland (Yazd). A question rose in my mind: why fatherland?! What has motherland done to him? When I asked the author, he clarified that his mother was from another part of Iran, and so from a logical point of view he was right. Of course, this respectable writer speaks with a beautiful Yazdi accent, so this we can rightly say is his father’s language! At this point, I remembered my article six years ago, and decided to update and print it.
It was in Upatan (the place for guarding water) that I landed on this Earth, presently called Abadan. Until the end of the reign of Qajar dynasty, this place was called Abadan with a different spelling (in Farsi). In the Pahlavi period the current spelling was used for this name, based on the historical background (Jalal Azizian 1311). During the Sasanian era, this name is composed of 3 parts: “o” (or Ab) meaning water; “pat” meaning guarding or protecting, and “an” meaning place: together it means the place for guarding the waters (Far Vashi 1364).
My mother used to tell me that when my brother and I were young, they used to talk to us in the Dari Zoroastrian dialect for two or three years. However, since we had to speak in the Farsi dialect after stepping into the alley and the street, which was a type of a mixture of Lori, Azari, Shirazi, Arabi dialects they adapted to the Persian language. Another reason that our parents had to consider was that the Zoroastrian dialect wasn’t spoken in our locality, or at least very rarely. But the main reason for our parents to decide to speak in Farsi with us was the fear of being ridiculed in the elementary school environment. In short, until 1351 (1972) that I grew up in Abadan, I learned the Zoroastrian Dari dialect from my parents and on the hand became familiar with literary Farsi that my father and his friends and colleagues spoke (coming from big cities like Ahwaz, Isfahan and Tehran). Therefore, at a lesser extent I learned the Abadani dialect. As a result, my Abadani dialect, due to the dominance of linguistic inheritance from my parents, was much stronger.
The result was that they asked me where I was from wherever I went to Abadan. I said that I was a child from Abadan; it was not very acceptable for them, and most of them assumed that I was a child from Tehran! Another important reason the Abadani dialect did not work despite our growth and development in this city is reading Persian books and magazines from the second grade of primary school onwards. After 1350, when I went to Tehran to continue my university education, despite the Farsi dialect of Kuche Bazari (informal) that I had, it still needed to match the pure dialect of Tehran. Occasionally, they would ask, “What city are you from?” It was enough to say that I was Abadan, and they did not accept me because they did not see the Abadani dialect or accent in me! Sometimes, they would say that they needed to know which part of Tehran I was from, because, from my accent they couldn’t tell. I had to swear that I was a child of Abadan.
The most exciting thing was when I went to Yazd, the ancestral land of my parents, to teach at the university since 1363. Here, I could no longer speak the beautiful and pleasant Yazdi dialect. However, I had many words from my mother and father in my pocket; they needed to fit into the tone and melody of the Yazdi dialect. It happened that the dear fellow citizens of Yazdi neither accepted that I am from Abadan nor Yazd. They mostly assumed that I was from Tehran. Of course, this was not a problem either, but they made something out of me that I was not.
Tens of years passed before I found out that some of our people, due to occasional migrations, have become accustomed to their father’s language instead of their mother tongue; that is, they have become accustomed to the dialect of the place where they were born.
In conclusion, let us acknowledge that our fellow Zoroastrians, who still have the essence of the Dari Zoroastrian dialect, most likely come from the land of Yazd. Unlike Zoroastrians from Zahedan, Shiraz, Abadan, Isfahan, and Tehran, who were engaged in the Persian dialect, these individuals have a unique cultural heritage. They venture to Bengal and spread our love. I hope that more of our co-religionists can recognize the value of preserving the Dari dialect of Zoroastrianism and join in its revival. This noble endeavor requires careful planning by our Zoroastrian associations and social institutions.
Dariush Mehrshahi* (Esfand 11, 1402)
Explanation: The original text was from Mehr 1396.
* Dariush Mehrshahi: retired member of the Geography Department of Yazd University
– Photos of Harisht mountain anticline
