My mother’s vow
I tiptoe past our living room where two dozen women are seated on the floor in silent prayer. A kind of quiet that carries its own music. The familiar rhythm of tinkling prayer beads, running noses, and heartfelt sighs. Sounds of hope, grief, and release.
The community elders resume the spiritual readings, their poetic modulations grounding the energy in the room once again. I try not to laugh as one khanoom ramps up her exaggerated performance, but my mother quickly puts an end to my budding disrespect with a stealth glare and a swift raise of her left eyebrow. Beware the brow.
My many aunties are seated around the sofreh, a ceremonial cloth adorned with the ritual feast of fruits, nuts, herbs, rice, soup, sweets, and the kachi I helped my mother prepare the night before. The memories of cooking this dish together—stealing spoonsful of the flour and butter roux as it browned in the pot—remain some of my sweetest souvenirs of this cultural tradition.
Baby Raanah proudly placing the finishing touches on the kachi.
Every year, for as long as I can remember, my mother has hosted a sofreh nazr for the women of our community. She likens this event to group meditation—an opportunity to come together and reflect on your health and blessings while praying for those who could use more of both. Hosting this yearly gathering, collecting funds for communities back home, is a spiritual vow my mother has upheld ever since one of her own prayers was answered.
As a kid, watching your elders pray and cry together on your living room floor leaves its mark. These afternoons were mystifying to me, the emotions so big and so freely shared. An intensity then quickly replaced by levity when the food was served. A true testament to the power of nourishing food shared in communion.
My beautiful aunties seated around the sofreh.
The older I get the more I yearn for these cultural traditions. The more I realize how beautiful and sacred these days were. The more I see the magic my mother wove into our lives through her commitment to love and community.
These were sacred afternoons.
Event details below were from Fall 2023.
On Sunday, November 5, I will be hosting my first Sofreh for the Season to carry forward this ritual honoring of the blessings of Life.
In this virtual gathering, we will reflect on the gifts of fall and set intentions for the season ahead. You will be encouraged to make your own dish using one or more selected fall ingredients that will be emailed to you in advance. Your seasonal dishes can then either be enjoyed, prepared, or remembered as we commune.
This Sofreh is free to attend in hopes that you will redirect your resources to support communities in need. This season, I will be raising money for the relief efforts in Gaza through the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund. You are welcome to contribute to this cause with me, or any other cause of your choice.
For more information and to register to attend, visit this page.
As we say in my culture, noosh-e jaan, may it nourish your soul.