In my childhood, we used to visit Gat-Agha’s house often; his house was on a hill, while the stable were down below, connected by a steep path. When we went there, I spent most of my time in the stable because I liked the lambs. He would also frequently visit there and take care of his livestock.
At that time, Gat-Agha had geese, and he would herd them around. Once when we were going from the stable to the house, I thought he had lost something. I was very young and thought that he was searching for something on the ground as if he was looking for something. In the local dialect, I asked, ‘Gat-Agha, what are you tracking?’ meaning, ‘What are you looking for?’ He replied, ‘Babam! I’m looking for my youth.’
Some years, there was a water shortage in Baraghan. Our farm was on higher ground, and when we irrigated our land, water didn’t reach the lower lands. My grandfather’s properties were also in the lower lands, and sometimes they ran out of water. One of those times, a man came to our house on the farm. He greeted us and sat down, saying, ‘Babam, whenever you irrigate your vineyard, release the water.’ He said this sarcastically, implying that when you water your garden, you’re also watering your barren lands, and you no longer need it. I felt a bit upset and said, ‘Gat-Agha, have our properties become barren lands now?’ He replied, ‘No, Babam; come, let me tell you a story. In the past, a man who didn’t look after his vineyard like you bragged about himself. He was sitting on his barren land and boasting. He kept patting his own back, saying, “Oh, my precious self! I’ve never let you suffer, always treated people kindly, forgiven them, and never let you get beaten.” In the meantime, Mashti Hasan, one of the locals who wasn’t interested in flattery, passed by. He heard this man boasting, and told himself, “Today, I must break this man’s head with a stick.” So, he went up and cut off the water supply while sitting there, expecting that this man would come and curse him, and he would beat him with a stick. When that servant of God saw that the water was cut off, he went to Mashti Hasan and greeted him warmly, inquiring about his well-being. He said, “Mashti Hasan, your vineyard must have had enough water, so let the water go . Goodbye.” Mashti Hasan called after him, saying, “Indeed, you’re worthy of praising yourself, and I thought you will come and curse me then I will hit you with a stick.” Then, Mashti Hasan released the water and left.’
Gat-Agha meant that my dear, you Narimani’s are a bit carefree. If I had complained loudly, you would have taken my caller and made trouble for me. Of course, we always held him in high regard.
You could see this calm nature in every aspect of Gat-Agha’s life. My grandfather even petted the sheep and goats and sang to them.
The lambs that were born for the first time had difficulty nursing; when the lamb tried to suckle, the mother sheep would come and push the lamb away.
In the sheepfold, Gat-Agha would set up a platform, and he would sit on it. When I went there, I would sit beside him. He would gently caress the mother sheep and sing softly for them. He would whisper, ‘Marro Roo-to… Marro Roo-to…’ which means ‘Mother and child.’ During these moments, the sheep would calm down, and the lamb would finally be able to nurse. ‘Marro Roo-to… Marro Roo-to…