In the Islamic Republic of Iran, sex outside of marriage is a crime, punishable by up to 100 lashes or, in the case of adultery, death by stoning. Yet the purpose of a temporary marriage is clear from its name in Arabic—mut'a, pleasure. A man and a woman may contract a mut'a for a finite period of time—from minutes to 99 years or more—and for a specific amount, mehr in Farsi, which the man owes the woman.
Inside the shrine, I struck up a conversation with a 55-year-old woman and asked whether she had ever contracted a temporary union. She had. A man in white clerical robes standing nearby seemed to perk up, so we moved aside for privacy, sitting cross-legged on the ground. The woman, a widow, asked that I use only her first name—Robabeh.
Six years earlier, Robabeh was leaving Sheikhan when a young man introduced himself. They chatted, and Robabeh learned that he was a seminary student. She told him she wanted to go on a pilgrimage to Syria. The student, 25 years her junior, promised to take her, proposing a sigheh, the Farsi word for a temporary marriage. Robabeh agreed, and they negotiated terms: eight months, and the mehr would be a trip to Syria.
Robabeh's black socks and thick rubber sandals peeked out from under her black head-to-toe chador. (It is rumored that women at shrines wear chadors inside out to signal their availability for temporary dalliances.) The only adornment on her kindly, owlish face was a pair of round black glasses. "My children asked where I was going," she said, laughing. "I told them I was going as a cook." Robabeh said that after being a widow for four years, she enjoyed the company and the opportunity to travel—not to mention the physical benefits. She considers the temporary marriage a blessing, even though she has kept it secret. "People say it's bad," she said. "Although it's in the Koran and people know about it, they still feel ashamed about doing it." However, Robabeh said she has no regrets, adding firmly, "I liked it."
When we are old and grey, what will we look back on and wish we did differently? What memories will we cherish, what choices will we regret?
