When I was a high school student, I learnt about the Behistun Inscription in a class of the world history. I couldn’t grasp well where Behistun (or Bisotun) was, but I was keenly interested in the story that a young army officer of the British East India Company found and deciphered the inscription in 1835. He was Henry Rawlinson (1810-1895), who had been assigned to the army of the Shah of Iran, fascinated to the old cuneiform: “If I can read it, it may open the door to the unknown past...”
 |
| Mount Bisotun near Kermanshah |
In the afternoon of April 19, we visited Mount Bisotun near the city of Kermanshah. Our tour guide Mr. Musa was a history lover, who explained about the place by quoting a legend from the Iranian national epic Shahnameh (The Book of Kings) :
“There was a sculptor named Farhad, who exiled to the Sassanid Persia under the dynasty of King Khosrau (II). The king had a princess called Shirin. Farhad fell in love with her. The king gave him an impossible task of cutting away the mount Bisotun to find water: ‘If you succeed it, I will permit you to marry Shirin.’ Farhad dug the mountain for many years and finally found water. However, the king sent a letter to him that Shirin had died. The poor sculptor went mad and threw himself from the top of mountain and died.”
The legend certainly tells us that a poor sculptor was abused to death by a shrewd tyrant, but at the same time it suggests that Bisotun developed from an oasis in the ancient times. A Greek historian Herodotus (484-425 B.C.) writes in his “The Histories” that the original Persians were nomadic tribes. They settled down in oases, built up cities, and developed the Achaemenid Empire in the fifth century B.C.
Let us return to the Behistun Inscription. The author of the inscription is Darius the Great (Darius I, 550-486 B.C.). He wrote about his autobiography and achievements. It celebrated successive victories in his military campaigns from Central Asia, to Afganistan, modern Pakistan area, and Indus valley, to Babylon (south of Baghdad), to Scythia (Central Eurasia), and to Greece. He had the relief inscribed in old Persian, Elamite, and Babylonian on a limestone cliff 100 meters high. That became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2006.
 |
| An old sketch of Mount Bisotun with the Behistun inscription |
We looked up the cliff from the foot of Mount Bisotun, listening to Mr. Musa’s explanations. The sky was filled with light. The sun was beating down on our heads without any shade of trees. We were sweating. The rocky cliff looked dry and whitish.
“Shall we climb?” said someone. We followed our tour guide to walk step by step a winding path among rocks. After ten minutes or so, Mr. Musa suddenly turned around and said to us, “I am very sorry. It is now under repair.” Looking up, we saw nothing but huge scaffoldings in front of the famous relief. We were all disappointed and started going back the way we had come. So did other tourists.
 |
| Huge scaffoldings in front of the Behistun inscription |
Standing halfway down the Mount Bisotun, I took a brilliant view of the whole landscape with the blue waters of a lake surrounded by green forest and an old caravanserai over there. The long straight road ran across below us. It was the Royal Road that Darius the Great built up from Susa (Shush in Khuzestan Province) to Sardis (Sart in Turkey’s Manisa Province), a branch of the Silk Road.
 |
| Bisotun Lake |
“Bisotun is still an oasis park on the Silk Road, isn’t it?” I said to Mr. Musa, pointing to the lake. There were many colorful tents set up, and many people relaxed.
“Yes, it is a nice place for picnic,” he smiled.
It was Friday, a holiday for Muslims!
 |
| The Royal Road |
We went down and walked along the road to return to our tour bus. By the lake, here and there, families or friends gathered on the grass for a picnic. They reminded me of picnic scenes of lovers in an old Persian miniature painting. The traditional lifestyle has been handed down from generation to generation and still alive in the modern life.
 |
| Many families and friends gathered for a picnic |
We went to a rest room near the lake before getting on the bus, but we were stopped everywhere and were asked in English, “Where are you from?” “Japan.” “Oh! Japon.” They all smiled and eagerly asked us to join them and drink chai (tea) together. That was the first heart-warming welcome by the people that we experienced in this country. The Iranians were very friendly.
However, we were in a hurry because of the tight schedule. Saying “I am sorry we have no time,” we still took pictures of them and they took ours. “If you don’t have time to drink tea, please take them.” A family proposed us a plate filled with pumpkin seeds. “Kheiri motashakkeram,” (Thank you, very much) I took some. “Oh, farsi baladid?” (You understand Farsi?) “Ye kami.” (A little) “Oh! ...” Unfortunately, I didn’t understand any more. Finally I said, “Khoda hafez.” (Good-by) “Oh! Khoda hafez!”
 |
| Iranian family and my wife (left) |
We all got into the bus with good impression of the people, but no impression of the Behistun Inscription - Glory of Darius the Great. We went to the next destination, Hamadan.
No comments:
Post a Comment