Alipur: Just past Doddaballapur’s industrial edge, the road narrows and signboards begin to change with names like Allama Street, Hussain Circle, and Hamza Street. On Sunday, Alipur — about 70km northwest of Bengaluru — fell into a quiet three-day mourning period. Black banners came up on shopfronts, conversations became hushed, and the mood was subdued. For this village, often dubbed ‘Mini Iran’, the death of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei was not distant international news. It was personal. He had walked these streets in March 1981.With a population of around 25,000, roughly 23,009 of them Shia Muslims, Alipur is “administered locally” through Anjuman-e-Jafaria, a community body that residents describe as an advisory and welfare institution. Despite the demographic tilt, several residents stressed that daily life runs on Kannada rhythms.“Almost 100% of our daily life follows Indian and Kannada culture, with only some Islamic practices,” said Alhaj Er Mir Ali Abbas, president of the Anjuman. He explained that the body comprises Islamic scholars and selected members who serve two-year terms, overseeing welfare and mediation. “If people want to go to the police or courts, they can freely do so. Our association handles development, infrastructure, and community needs.“The economic backbone of Alipur lies in gemstones. Chief patron Allama Hujjatul maintained that Alipur’s identity is not built on foreign patronage. “Most of our business and lifestyle, like gem trading, comes from our forefathers and Indian tradition, not Iranian culture. We follow Islamic law here most of the time, but people are free to follow their own system as well. We have received no funding from Iran,” he said. Many families, he added, send at least one child to study in Iran for religious education, but they “eventually come back”.Though Arab traders are believed to have settled here nearly 300 years ago — and later links with Iran influenced religious practices — the cultural base remains distinctly local. Food habits underline their rootedness. Lunch tables here are more likely to feature ragi mudde, idli, vade, and dose, than any distinctly Iranian fare. Education too follows the state, CBSE, or ICSE syllabi in six schools, including two run by the govt. Land has been donated for a proposed govt first-grade college for girls, reflecting a long-standing emphasis on women’s education.Visit woven into historyThat emphasis, according to residents, was sharpened by Khamenei’s visit. On that summer day almost 45 years ago, he arrived around 11am, accompanied by associates, during a broader India tour. A Shia delegation had invited him, and security was tight.Mir Fazil Raza, now secretary of the Anjuman, was 14 then. “We were arranged in rows inside the mosque to welcome him,” he recalled. Twelve boys were selected through a lucky draw to formally greet Khamenei. “At the time, they were looking for class 7 and 8 boys who were presentable. I was very happy when I was selected,” said Raza. They wore yellow shirts bearing the words ‘Republic of Iran — Welcome’ in Farsi or Urdu.Ahmed Abbas Alipur, 64, a social worker with a doctorate in non-Muslim Urdu poets, was part of the organising team. “We prepared carefully — volunteers were chosen to manage security and for welcome duties,” he said. He recalled Khamenei’s “energetic address” that lasted about 45 minutes and highlighted the need to respect one’s motherland. “He emphasised education, welfare, and local development, and his presence inspired initiatives such as establishing a mini-hospital,” Ahmed added.The hospital became one of that visit’s tangible legacies. There were smaller, intimate moments too. Khamenei was taken to a mosque where an elderly man had passed away. At the family’s request, he offered prayers for the deceased. Later, he stopped by the fields where a farmer was at work. According to residents, when the farmer attempted to touch his feet, he stopped him, brushed the mud off his hands, and embraced him. Mir Murtuza Ali, now 96 and a former gram panchayat chairman, hosted Khamenei for lunch. “My nephew was the one who brought him here from Bengaluru. I requested him to have lunch at our place. From my own farm, I provided goats to prepare mutton biryani for everyone,” he said, smiling at the memory. “I remember him saying, ‘I don’t usually eat this much spice, but since you made it with love, I ate it — it’s so good.'” The spot where Khamenei sat has since been turned into a small prayer space.Principles of coexistenceHowever, Alipur’s social fabric extends beyond its Shia identity. Basavaraj, 68, a farmer born and brought up in the village, spoke of coexistence. “The population of Muslims here is larger, but there haven’t been many fights; we’ve always lived in harmony,” he said.He recalled one tense episode about 30 years ago when Muharram and the Ganesha festival coincided. “A small clash occurred, which police resolved. Since then, whenever there is a festival, the cops usually come. Otherwise, everything is fine — we discuss issues among ourselves, and if there are any problems, we approach the panchayat officials.”Such accounts show the layered reality of ‘Mini Iran’. Residents acknowledge that the 1979 Iranian Revolution influenced certain religious practices here. Hijab use, Quran recitation, and daily prayers follow Shia norms. There are no pubs, theatres, or stadiums, and entertainment is limited. Charity sustains welfare initiatives.Soon, the shops will reopen, farmers will return to the fields, and classrooms will buzz again. But memories of Ali Khamenei’s visit still shape how Alipur sees itself — Indian in daily life, Shia in faith.
