To Us Spoke Zarathustra...
Emir Muawwiyyah ben Esma’il Yazidi
Assotionation Zoroastrienne
I was born in Sinjar, a fairly large village some 100 kilometres west of Mosul, an ancient city with a turbulent history of rise and fall.
My father, like his fathers since time immemorial, belonged to a stratum of our rural society assigned to performing the task of religious guide and community leaders. He was called Emir, Which means both Commander and Prince, but, as I soon learned, this mainly denoted the greater burden of responsibility he had to bear in the service of his people.
Our stone and mud-house in Sinjar was almost completely devoid of all that could be described as superficial and ornamental. It was built in such a way as to be constantly blessed by sunshine. Right from the start the sun was more present to us than the earth itself. Light, fire and warmth were key symbols in our Faith and the sun represented all three par excellence.
The mantlepiece in the main reception room in our house was adorned with a single framed painting. This was the portrait of a man, sporting a long beard and wearing a headgear that looked like a cross between royal crowns ... | 
