The Pigeons Which Were the Messengers of Martyrdom

 About two or three months passed. Sometimes he would send a letter. The Radio was only talking about the war. It seemed that a military operation had been started. The radio was broadcasting the war song. Each time that it would broadcast such a war march, it would be announced from the mosque speaker and my heart would be beating.
According to Epic and Resistance Group of Fars News Agency, it is the time of peace that the humans fall asleep with the smallest neglects. They yield the intellect. These short memories regarding the nice humans with great events are related to the Sacred Defense Era. They occurred at that time. They can capture the hearts and promote the morale to the young and teenager generation. They awaken us and those who have fallen asleep in neglects and they grant hopes, courage, prides and the interest to patriotism and fighting against oppression against the global arrogance and eventually they can be some models for the victory. What you read here are some short memories which are related to the biography of martyr Ali Reza Cheravi:
He opened the came and he took out the two pigeons. I said: Dear Ali Reza! Don’t you go to school today my son? He was so busy with the pigeons in a way that he did not notice what I was telling him. I called him once again and I said: Ali Reza, I’m talking with you.
He jumped up and said: Yes, excuse me mom, I did not notice. I said: Didn’t you go to the school? What do you want to do with the pigeons? He said: Today we did not have any teacher at school. He picked the pigeons and left. After two hours he returned without the pigeons.
-       Where were you Ali Reza? Where are the pigeons? I had used to with those pigeons; because they were in our house for a long period of time.
He said: I freed them in order to fly in the sky and to go to the free forests for themselves. I want them to be free like myself. I said: Are you someone like a prisoner right now? He said: No, now I have been freed too. He looked down and he went to his room. What could I say to him? Ali Reza the same as other guys who had the same age went to the battlefields and I was left alone and his father did not have anyone to help him too. Ali Reza would come home in the afternoons from the school; he would help his father in the farming lands. Our house would be silent without crowds. When he went to the war, it seemed that he had taken a population of 100 persons with himself too. I really felt homesick so much.
About two or three months passed. Sometimes he would send a letter. The Radio was only talking about the war. It seemed that a military operation had been started. The radio was broadcasting the war song. Each time that it would broadcast such a war march, it would be announced from the mosque speaker and my heart would be beating. I could not sleep during the nights. That rainy night passed from the midnight. In the side of the forest, the weather was rainy. I lit off the lantern in order to sleep. Suddenly something hit the glasses of the window and it awakened me. I lit on the lantern. My heart was beating near the window. The two pigeons of Ali Reza were behind the window and they were hitting themselves to the window glasses. I opened the window. They came into the room. I felt that they have felt coldness outside of the room. The came to the house and they went to the place where they would be kept when Ali Reza was here. I informed the issue to the father of Ali Reza and I said: do you know where these pigeons have been until now, that they have come here now at this time of night… maybe they have news from Ali Reza…
Ali Reza’s father said: Right now you should sleep and you should not think of nonsense things. Nothing has occurred. The letter of Ali Reza was received from the war only a few days ago. I put my head on the pillow in order to sleep. The two pigeons had sat down on the niche. I told myself; maybe they are tired and hungry. Suddenly I told myself maybe they have brought news from Ali Reza. I got so concerned about the issue. I was thinking about different strange things.
I woke up by the voice of calling for prayer. I performed my prayer and I slept. Suddenly I woke up by the sound of a car which had come to our yard. I opened the window. The pigeons had left. The yard did not have any walls or gates. Most of the yards of the village was like this at that time. The car had come close to the home platform. Two of the forces with the arm of Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps got off the car. I said: Hey the father of Ali Reza! Stand up, see why these men have come here?

The father of Ali Reza said: who? I said: The two guards.

He stood up. We went out of the house. I said: Brother, have you
brought any news about Ali Reza?
We offered them to come to the house and they came there. We offered them tea. They said different things to us that what has happened and what has not happened. Suddenly I was chocked with tears and I started crying in tears. I said: The two pigeons of Ali Reza came here last night due to this issue.
The two forces of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps looked down and they left.
We went to the headquarters of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. They had wrapped Ali Reza in a flag. The blood spots had pasted on the flag of the Islamic Republic of Iran. I kissed the corner of the flag. The word of Allah on the flag has been painted with Ali Reza’s blood. I said in my heart: God fell in love with Ali Reza. All the people had come there. The relatives had made a broom tray. They brought the body of Ali Reza to the yard. Again the pigeons came there and they were with us until the final moment of the funeral procession and escorting the body.
When the funeral procession ended, all the people left and we retuned to our yard. Again the pigeons came there and they turned round and they left. Some of the persons who were in the yard said: Let’s follow them. We had buried the corpse of Ali Reza in the public cemetery of our own village! Still one hour had not passed that we went to his grave once again. We observed that the two pigeons had sat down on the grave of Ali Reza. I smiled and I said: You pigeons are the messengers of Ali Reza’s martyrdom. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of Ali Reza. I’m proud of myself. The pigeons had started at me and I was crying in tears…my tears were the tears of passion…