News ID: 7116
Publish Date: 27 August 2006 - 15:38
It was crowded .Desert was waving with people. What had happened, I didn't know. From among them, three women with black veils on their heads, had broken the population and were coming towards me. When they got close to me, I said Hello. I heard an answer. One of them turned to me and asked:

You must be here to see Hassan?

Yes where is he?

And the other one who had a smile on her face, answered me:
Martyr land.
Where is Martyr land?
Right here.

I looked around for a bit. Everything was just there. Smell of martyrdom was everywhere. Quickly I turned to them and asked:
You mean Hassan was martyred? Did you burry him here?
One of the women pulled me towards her. As she was starring into my eyes she said:

Don’t you see every martyr is buried in martyr land?
They didn't let me speak anymore. All three got moving. They were taking me here and there with them.
We got to a well lit area.

Come and see Hassan….

And I saw him in a sea of mud.

You won't see him for other seven or eight years.
A little further I saw a grave that was ready. But no one inside yet, when I came to, I was lost in the crowd and no sign of the three women….

And that dream was paraphrased exactly eight years later, when they escorted his heavenly bones in the city.
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