Welcome to My Parsi Party

Parsis revel in their reputation as hedonistic gourmands. Every gathering, celebration, religious occasion, and even loss is marked by food. Writer Sabrina Medora shares never before printed recipes for the dinner parties of her childhood.

By Sabrina Medora | Food and Wine

February 19, 2021

NEWBORN BABIES IN MY PARSI FAMILY get a little mithu monu (sweets for the mouth) by way of a lick of ravo—a semolina porridge— from their mother’s finger to grant them a sweet nature. Doorways of our homes are marked with chalk outlines of fish for prosperity in the manner of the crown of Cyrus the Great. On special occasions, we ward off the evil eye by circling recipients’ heads seven times with eggs and then cracking them. Grains of rice are used to garnish vermilion dots on our foreheads. The vermilion signifies the sun and the moon; the rice grains are rays of light. They say the more rice that sticks to your forehead, the more bountiful your life will be. As a child, I would pick up fallen grains and stick them firmly to my forehead. I suppose it worked.

The author as a baby | Credit: Courtesy Sabrina Medora

More than a millennium ago, Zoroastrians fled Persia to escape persecution, and now we Parsis are one of the world’s smallest communities, perhaps well on our way to becoming classified as a tribe. And, yet, we have the most abundant outlook on life.The prophet Zoroaster, upon whose tenets our religion is based, asks us for three things: good thoughts, good words, and good deeds. None of which can be accomplished if we don’t eat, drink, and be merry. We revel in our reputations as hedonistic gourmands.

In sickness and in health, we eat dhan dar, a buttery concoction of turmeric and lentils served on white rice. The dish represents the humility with which we should accept both good and bad occasions. Upon the death of a loved one, we celebrate the gift of life. Prayer trays for the dead are accompanied by the favorite foods of those we pray for. During the pandemic, I honored the loss of both my beloved grandfathers with a bunch of ripe bananas and a packet of milk chocolate digestive biscuits near a lit tea light. I hope there’s plenty of both in heaven.

What am I saying? They’re Parsis. They’ll always find the food.

The author as a child | Credit: Courtesy Sabrina Medora

They’re Parsis. They’ll always find the food.

LIKE ANY FIRST-GENERATION immigrant to America, I spent most of my teenage and young adult years maintaining aloofness toward my roots. Now, as a 30-year-old married woman, separated by entire countries from my family in the midst of a pandemic, I’m left with vivid memories of dinner parties I spent in their company. Sometimes, I stand in my kitchen and close my eyes, allowing myself to be a child again.

A memory: I am 7 years old, in Mumbai, wearing a pretty pink party dress with ruffles sent with love from family in Singapore. I have been given two very important jobs this evening—turn on the air-conditioning at 6:30 p.m. sharp, and make sure the Camy Wafers chips make it from oven to crystal bowl while remaining piping hot.

Prawn Patio | Credit: Eva Kolenko

The air-conditioning switch is tucked away behind the rolling TV stand. I get on my hands and knees, jimmying my arm between the sofa and the stand, grab hold of the hefty switch, and, with a groan, flip it from down to up. The window unit above me grunts in response, humming to life. I stand, embracing a faceful of frigid air. The grandfather clock on the shelf sings its little ditty, marking the half hour. Thirty minutes leaves just enough time to cool the living room and dining room before the guests arrive. My patent leather party shoes slide across the freshly swabbed marble floors as I race to the infernally hot kitchen to shut the sliding doors, separating the cool party air from chaos.

The kitchen is bustling. My ayah, Mary, who looked after me from birth, and my mother waltz around each other stirring dals, fluffing rice, and smacking dough onto the counter. A white plate with delicate pink flowers holds perfectly cubed cheese adorned with cellophane-tipped toothpicks. A scattering of salted roasted cashews and plain almonds surrounds the cheese. “Put this on the coffee table,” my mother says as she thrusts the plate into my hands. As the youngest, it will be my duty to rotate each of the cocktail snacks to our guests, while answering questions about school and friends in a polite manner that makes my grandparents beam. I carefully practice holding the weight of the tray as I slide back out to the cooler side. It’s almost 7 p.m., and my mother hastens to her bedroom to dab the sweat off her forehead and change into a colorful ensemble.

GET THE RECIPE: PRAWN PATIO

Dhan Dar | Credit: Eva Kolenko

The doorbell chimes, and family begins to stream in. The hall is soon filled with the scent of Yardley soap and whiskey. “Can I get you a drink?” my father offers and waits patiently as the guest pretends to debate one of three options—whiskey, beer, or a nice fizzy Coke. There’s fresh coconut water from the fruits of a tree outside our building, picked that morning, for the more reserved guests and me.

After my rounds, I nestle between my father’s feet, looking up at his fancy rocks glass, and whisper, “Just one sip?” When he finally says, “No more,” I repeat the routine with my grandfather. My mother eyes me, and I know it’s time for the chips. I make my way to the kitchen, sliding the door barely a crack open to squeeze myself in without allowing the heat to escape. Mary has been joined by another ayah, who is deftly rolling balls of atta into chapati. I sneak one from the tray and pop it into my mouth, quickly pressing it flat with my tongue so as not to be caught out. It doesn’t work, and I get a light smack on my bottom. I chew, smiling. The illicit excitement of raw dough is always worth it.

GET THE RECIPE: DHAN DAR

Arré, greedy pop. Go on, serve!

“Take it carefully now, hear?” Mary lowers an ornate crystal bowl into my arms, heaped with waffle-cut potato chips piping hot from the oven. I inhale, my mouth watering with the tease of salty oil. I lower my mouth to the bowl and gently pluck a chip off the top. I chew with my mouth open, simultaneously eating and cooling the chip. “Arré, greedy pop. Go on, serve!” Mary sharply turns me to the door, and I’m back in the hall. I make my rounds, impatient for the adults to take their share so I may have mine. The hot appetizers will be coming soon.

Credit: Eva Kolenko

Adult conversation is boring, and the chips go fast. A subtle flick of my mother’s head tells me I’m welcome to make a silent exit. I hustle back to where the real action is and settle on a chair in the kitchen—the best seat in the house. Uproarious laughter wafts through the door, but I feel no fear of missing out. I’m exactly where I want to be, within prime reach of the dhansak. I pluck a leftover chip from the bag, unbaked and still greasy with oil. When Mary’s head turns, I strike, landing my treasure, a glistening piece of mutton enrobed in thick, spicy dhansak dal.

I shove the whole thing in my mouth and massage my jaw so that it doesn’t lock while claiming this prize. My father enters the kitchen under the pretext of getting more Coke from the fridge. (Who do you think I learned my moves from?) I offer him a chip. Dhansak is usually reserved for leisurely Sunday afternoons and family gatherings, which means we truly dedicated fans of the dish do our best to sneak the best bits of mutton before the rest of the family can get to it.

GET THE RECIPE: DHANSAK

Chutney Fish | Credit: Eva Kolenko

The siren song of the rest of the dishes soon lures me to other parts of the kitchen counter. I stare as Mary flips thick pieces of fried fish from the tawa to a paper-lined tray. Oil shimmers, dripping across the crags and crevices of the breadcrumb coating, bits of green chutney peeking through. The egg, applied after the breadcrumbs instead of before, adorns each piece of fish in a lacy fried tutu. My hand gets smacked as my fingers inch forward, and I look up at Mary, wounded. She rolls her eyes and silences me with a fresh chapati, still ballooning from the fire. I poke my finger through the now-cooked dough and watch steam puff out until it cools enough to wrap into a tight pinwheel and munch. I choose a new dip—cinnamon-infused tomato gravy that will accompany ground beef cutlets. The cinnamon reminds me of my grandmother in Singapore. I take a bite for her.

“Chalo, go tell mama dinner is ready,” Mary says, shooing me from underfoot. I finish my last purloined bite and take a swig from an open Coke bottle to cleanse my palate for what is to come.

GET THE RECIPE: GROUND PORK CUTLETS WITH TOMATO GRAVY

Jolly good show, jolly good!

ALL THESE YEARS LATER, for the first time in my life, I’ve begun cooking the food of my community. It’s strange to do so now, alone. But, in the quiet of the kitchen, I can feel my grandmother standing behind me, in her housecoat, smiling as I stir condensed milk into butter and semolina to make the ravo recipe guarded by the women in her family for generations. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my grandfather Umpa stealing one of the chapatis I’ve taught myself to flip and wrapping it around a banana with a grin. I welcome Papa, my other grandfather, as he does his bowlegged bustle into my kitchen to peer over my shoulder approvingly as another chutney fish earns its delicate crisp. He pats me on the back, and his voice echoes in my mind, “Jolly good show, jolly good!”

GET THE RECIPE: CHUTNEY FISH

GET THE RECIPE: PARSI GREEN CHUTNEY

Green Chutney | Credit: Eva Kolenko

My mother’s voice guides me through texts and phone calls as I measure out just the right amount of chiles for my chutney. She calls for handfuls of this and dashes of that as I frantically flip through cookbooks to find a corresponding metric. My uncles and aunts cheer through group texts as I share photos of my dhansak before giving me the third degree on whether I used the “traditional” recipe or “took the easy route.” (I’ll never tell.) My father and still-living grandmother text me words of encouragement: “Looks good, we’ll see how it tastes one day.”

One day.

In the meantime, we pour wine and Scotch into glasses and toast tandorosti, meaning blessings for well-being, to our loved ones. We fill our homes with the scents of cinnamon, cloves, and chiles. We huddle over well-loved pots on stoves, scooping hunks of mutton and dal using potato chips as spoons. Through all odds, we seek and find happiness and healing through food and drink. We Parsis have done so for millennia—with the firm faith that our ancestors are joining in from above and around—and we will do so for millennia to come.

Ravo | Credit: Eva Kolenko

Welcome to my table.

These recipes, shaped by geographic and immigrant history, have been passed down verbally by generations of women in my family, each of whom added their own personal touch—including myself. This is the first time they are ever appearing in print. They can be enjoyed as stand-alone delights or, as the Parsis like to do it, a bumper feast. Tandorosti!

GET THE RECIPE: RAVO

There is much that is debatable and untenable in the new book on Jinnah’s wife.

Who goes into history?

Who is worthy of a biography?

The shakers who change civilisation and our view of the world – the scientists, writers, painters and philosophers. And perhaps more than them, the movers, the captains and the kings and, if we believe Winston Churchill’s contention that behind every man who achieves anything there stands a woman, their consorts and their queens!

Article by Farrukh Dhondy | The WIRE

Nur Jahan for Jehangir, Josephine for Napoleon and now according to this multi-purpose, (let’s not call it ‘rambling’, yet) biography (Ruttie Jinnah: The Woman who Stood Defiant), Ruttie Jinnah for the man who was a participant in, if not wholly responsible for, the partition of India. A division which cost a few million lives and has resulted in one failed state and another discovering fundamentalist roots in its politics, prejudices and polity, which are the opposite of idealism and truly democratic progress.

Ruttie married the 40-year-old Jinnah after proposing to him, the book says, at the age of 18. She converted from the Parsi Zoroastrian faith into which she was born, to Islam in order to so do. She tragically died of an illness at the age of 29.

In various chapters and tiresomely repetitive passages, the ‘biography’ considers her allegiance to her new faith – its quality, it’s depth and its effect on her political stance. The writers seem to conclude that she was, with her husband, Muhammed Ali Jinnah, a devoted if not devout Muslim.

Nevertheless, her flirtation with theosophy, under the influence of her friends Annie Besant and Ranji Dwarkadas, a faith which she in the end rejected, seems to point to a wavering commitment to Islam.  The book insists that Jinnah himself was a dedicated, if not ritualistic Muslim.

Also read: Rattanbai Petit and Mohammad Ali Jinnah: An Interfaith Marriage That Went Down in History

There are many books, quotes and much testimony to the contrary which are not included here in their insistence, bibliography or footnotes. For instance, there exists the persistent canard that he ate ham sandwiches and drank whisky. And there is the anecdote of Sir Abdullah Haroon who is reported to have said that he accompanied Jinnah to his first adult visit to public prayers at a mosque and told him to closely imitate all his ritual actions.

The authors don’t include or allude to any of these, perhaps apocryphal, recollections and instead quote someone called Ian Bryant Wells who writes that Jinnah was “strong in his religious beliefs”.

Born in 1901, Ruttie died of a wasting illness in 1929. She was married to Jinnah for 11 years. Her marriage and conversion caused great consternation in the family and the Parsi community. Her father Sir Dinshaw Petit disowned her and even launched an unsuccessful attempt in court to prove that Jinnah was after his money. The highest community body, the Parsi Panchayat excommunicated Ruthie and passed a resolution to exclude the entire Petit family from Zoroastrian rituals and ceremonies! There were similar reactions from sections of the Muslim community.

Saad S Khan and Sara S Khan, Ruttie Jinnah: The Woman who Stood Defiant, Penguin Random House, India (2020)

Most of the book is, inevitably, dedicated to Jinnah, his politicking, his trips abroad, his holidays and his indulgence of his young wife. Though the ‘biography’ is compelled to adopt as its central theme, the possible though speculative influence that Ruttie Jinnah, his companion to conferences may have had on his thinking, there can’t possibly be any proof that it was influence rather than just complacent agreement or cheerleading.

The problem with this thesis is that Ruttie died in 1929 and, though Muhammed Ali had achieved very many positions and triumphs till that date, his significant effect on history substantially begins when he returns from self-imposed exile in Britain to lead the Muslim League and then fight to the end for the creation of two nations – for the partition of India. It was not for nothing that a British negotiator called him “Mr Jinnah, the man with a problem for every solution.”

John Keats, one of the Romantics whom Ruttie must have read through her love for English poetry, died aged 25. Several biographies have been dedicated to his short life, each one a critical examination of the zeitgeist, the events and influences of his life and the verse. There seems to be a lot to say.

So, what is there to say about Ruttie Jinnah? Or put it another way, what do the authors of this ‘biography’ insist on saying, even in the passages not devoted to her husband’s subsequent or earlier life? Whatever little, by the author’s own admission, there is in letters she wrote and allusions in the autobiographies of others, is stretched to the limit.

Did Ruttie really affect or even participate in history? There is a detailed account of her heroic role in a demonstration to stop a memorial to Lord Willingdon. As her biographers argue that Ruttie influenced her husband into the two-nation demand, perhaps she also caused the statue-topplers of the Black Lives Matter movement through this act?

We have an account of Ruttie accompanying her husband in protesting against the deportation by the Raj of the editor of the Bombay Chronicle and staunch nationalist Benjamin Horniman.

A chapter is dedicated to her suffragette sympathies and publicly expressed opinions. She was also asked at the age of 21 to be the Vice President of the All India Trades Union Congress. She declined, but her biographers see no irony in this spoilt girl of Parsi aristocracy, who had never done a stroke of work in her life, being offered the position.

Spoilt? Yes. The biography provides chapters of evidence. Ruttie carried her retinue of pet dogs and cats on all her trips within India and abroad, which necessitated her taking a crew of servants with her on her sojourns to look after them. A chapter is dedicated to the stylish European clothes she wore and another to the encomiums she received from contemporaries for being beautiful, witty and having a charming laugh. The book does trace, interestingly, the reaction of the Parsis and sections of the Muslim community to Ruttie’s conversion to Islam and marriage to Jinnah.

The biography is eccentrically anti-Gandhi, characterising him, unfairly, as an opponent of the opponents to the erection of a memorial to Lord Willingdon, as a passive supporter of the Rowlatt Acts and even of being mealy-mouthed about the slaughter at Jalianwalla Bagh. This unresearched bias should by itself take the book off the historical biography shelves and relegate it to the Pakistani Missionary ones.

And then there are the blunders one should lay at the door of Penguin’s editors.  The preface says: “…without caring to note that she converted to Islam, just like countless individuals, from Jesus to Jinnah’s own ancestors and those of most of Indian Muslims…”  That Jesus converted to Islam will come as a total shock to the Pope and to keepers of chronology in heaven.

Then, placing London’s “Regent (sic) Park in Pall Mall” is not taking liberties with history, with which writers may tamper, but with geography, which is, kinda fixed?

The authors allege, “Charles Dickens once wrote, ‘Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them,’” accusing Dickens of plagiarism from Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night.

Farrukh Dhondy is a novelist and script writer.

Zoroastrianism is the world’s oldest monotheistic religion, revealed by a prophet in Persia back in the 5th Century BC. Believing in one supreme deity, Ahura Mazda (Lord of Wisdom), creator and sustainer of all things, the central value is everyone has free will to choose between good and evil. Adherents express their faith through the three tenets of good thoughts, good words, and good deeds.    

Suzanne Hill delved deeper into the religion’s profound past with Dhun Karai and Simone Kasad of the Australian Zoroastrian Association. Discover how Zoroastrians conduct their rituals, their faith and scripture, and the belief systems practised in our modern age.

Duration: 32min 30sec

Broadcast: Sun 21 Feb 2021, 10:00pm

UNITED NATIONS, Feb 22 2021 (IPS) – Legends are the lodestars of history, the marriage of Sir Dorabji Tata with Meherbai on Valentine’s Day of 1898 among the most lyrical of them. Two years later, he gifted her the Jubilee Diamond, the sixth largest diamond in the world, twice as large as the Kohinoor.

Article by Ramu Damodaran | INTER PRESS AGENCY

Less than fifty months later, Tata Steel, the business in which he played so pivotal a role, was enveloped in a financial crisis; Dorabji and Meherbai pledged the whole of their wealth, including the Diamond, to the Imperial Bank, to make it possible for wages to be paid and not a job sacrificed.

Tata Steel returned to profitability within a quarter century, Meherbai and Dorabji died soon after, bequeathing their wealth to the Sir Dorabji Tata Charitable Trust – including the Diamond which was sold in 1937, yielding funds to create institutions such as the Tata Memorial Hospital, the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research and the Tata Institute of Social Sciences.

That history came to mind this past Sunday – February 14 – when I opened a carefully wrapped package with my address on it in Russy Sumariwalla’s gentle hand. It was a publication I had not come across earlier, the FEZANA Journal, its cover pictured above, produced by the Federation of Zoroastrian Associations of North America.

As its editor-in-chief, Dr. Dolly Dastoor, notes in her editorial, “FEZANA through its members, young and old, has been supporting the SDGs much before the pandemic started,” a pandemic which, in the phrase of FEZANA President Arzan Sam Wadia, “hit the pause button on our planet.”

The wealth of reading in this issue included a reflective piece by Narges Kakalia on the Cyrus Cylinder and its “glimmers of universality”, notably its injunction that slavery “should be exterminated the world over”, glimmers that brighten each day with our global interdependence on the SDGs reaffirmed.

Interdependence also in a relatively unexpected area, faith. One of the articles brings together three authors, Joshua Basofin of the Parliament of World’s Religions, David Hales, a former Chair of the World Heritage Convention and Michael Terrin, an Oblate of St Benedict.

It notes that “nearly every religious, indigenous, and spiritual tradition teaches a moral obligation to protect the planet“, an obligation which they can help exercise in practice as faith based organizations “control 8% of the habitable land surface of Earth, 5% of all commercial forests, 50% of schools worldwide and 10% of the world’s financial institutions.”

The journal made engrossing reading in the middle of a month which began with World Interfaith Harmony Week. A quick search on the agile website of the Yearbook of the United Nations suggests the General Assembly resolution which established the Day is the only one in the 75 years of United Nations history that makes a direct reference to “God” in the paragraph where it “encourages all States to support, on a voluntary basis, the spread of the message of interfaith harmony and goodwill in the world’s churches, mosques, synagogues, temples and other places of worship during that week, based on love of God and love of one’s neighbour or on love of the good and love of one’s neighbour, each according to their own religious traditions or convictions.”

There is also a reference in a 1966 judgment by the International Court of Justice, in a case challenging South Africa’s occupation of present-day Namibia, with a twist in its tail that “all mankind are children of God, and, consequently, brothers and sisters, notwithstanding their natural and social differences, namely man and woman, husband and wife, master and slave, etc.”

George Macaulay Trevelyan, the historian, whose birthday fell last Tuesday, once cautioned “never tell a young person that anything cannot be done. God may have been waiting centuries for someone ignorant enough of the impossible to do that very thing.”

The FEZANA Journal carried a story about a young girl in Lahore, Pakistan, “a tinkerer by nature, she often got up to her elbows in grease as she absorbed herself in the mechanics of bike repair.”

Some forty years later, and five years ago last week, Nergis Mavalvala “was among the team of scientists whom, for the first time, observed ripples in the fabric of spacetime called gravitational waves.”

She has since been appointed Dean of the School of Science at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, the first woman to hold the post.

The institutions Dorabji and Meherbai Tata’s bequests helped found continue to engage the young in adventures of discovery; at the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research scientists have noted “what we experience as a child often has a lasting impression on our behaviour throughout the course of our life.

Stressful and adverse experience during early life of an individual can often lead to a lasting vulnerability towards developing psychiatric disorders in adult life, a question particularly pertinent to the current times when depression has emerged as one of the greatest challenges to global health.

In a recent study, the Vaidya lab has tested the idea via switching on the signalling pathway that leads to overactivation of excitatory neurons within the forebrain, using genetically engineered mice.”

And the Tata Institute of Social Sciences is working with the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and the Maharashtra state government in India on an “Inclusive Disaster Preparedness and Risk Reduction Programme” in the district of Bhiwandi, focusing specifically on people with disabilities (PWD), it is the first of its kind, mainstreaming pre-disaster vulnerability reduction programme, designed to mainstream disability in disaster management, train and sensitize professionals on disability and emergency response and establish a resource centre providing advisory and informational services for PWD.

The Foundation for Ecological Security, supported by Tata Trusts, aims to create sustainable livelihoods for 38 million rural poor by strengthening local governance and conserving 30 million acres of Commons in India totalling to a fifth of India’s total Commons land.

An indicator of how directly this is related to faith came to mind as I read the “Final Report of the Independent Review on the Economics of Biodiversity” published earlier this month by the government of the United Kingdom; it says “Our economies, livelihoods and well-being all depend on our most precious asset: Nature.

We are part of Nature, not separate from it. We rely on Nature to provide us with food, water and shelter; regulate our climate and disease; maintain nutrient cycles and oxygen production; and provide us with spiritual fulfilment and opportunities for recreation and recuperation, which can enhance our health and well-being. We also use the planet as a sink for our waste products, such as carbon dioxide, plastics and other forms of waste, including pollution.”

Nature and spiritual fulfilment have been at the heart of many festivities around the world last week: the start of the Lunar new year in Asia, the Carnival in Brazil and the Caribbean, Basant Panchami, the celebration of spring, in India which coincides with tribute to Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge, and her injunction to cultivate an organized, clutter free mind, much like the SDG tree on the FEZANA Journal cover, or the language tree devised by the German linguist August Schleicher, whose birth bicentennial falls today, a model, as Wikipedia the Wise informs us, that “as with species, each language is assumed to have evolved from a single parent or “mother” language, with languages that share a common ancestor belonging to the same language family.”

Could that symbol, the tree, not work for faith as well , its many sturdy branches unfurling from an integral and common whole, each branch sustaining, and being sustained by, the leaves and shoots that from its recesses thrive?

Beethoven, whose 250th birth anniversary we have just celebrated, signed his manuscripts with the letters SDG, standing for Soli Deo Gloria, or “Glory to God Alone”. His momentous music was nurtured in an age where faith had begun to assimilate reason, manifest often in challenges to those who sought to represent the divine rather than divinity itself.

As Eamon Duffy writes in this week’s “The New York Review of Books”, the European reformation owed much to “the burgeoning of charismatic spiritual and apocalyptic movements that seemed to threaten the stability of the institutional Church, and the mounting theological and political challenges to the centralizing authority of the papacy.”

And, writing in the “New Theatre Quarterly” in 2009, Katie Normington, a scholar in the field of drama, and the just appointed Vice Chancellor of De Montfort University in the United Kingdom, UNAI’s hub on SDG 16, observed that “in being treated as religious dramas rather than community plays – plays which evolved from the Church service rather than from a street procession – the sense of communitas disappeared from the staging, and the division of actor and audience space became very apparent.

There are no easy answers: as Dario Fo’s versions suggest, to emphasize the subversive voices of the citizens within the plays seems equally alien in late twentieth-century Britain. If political theatre is an endangered species (or an outdated beast, if that’s how you see it), then Mitchell’s production would seem to suggest that the most we can hope for is an altruistic individualism.”

My college lecturer in history, Dr. “Eric” Kapadia, a gentle and noble Zoroastrian himself, was fond of quoting the Tony Judt axiom that “geography is full of maps, history is full of chaps.” In elaborating the thought, he elevated it from glib to the “glimmer” we spoke of earlier, of the individual’s formidable role, a role far more defined than circumstance, in shaping her own history and, all too often, the histories of those around her.

“Altruistic individualism”, in Dr. Normington’s elegant phrase, allows a shaping that cares, a shaping within a community, whether of faith, geography or vocation, but a shape that draws its imagination and malleability from the reason and conviction, the “dignity and worth” of the individual within whose altruism it has tenancy.

SubscSubscribe to the FEZANA Journal here

We are informed of the appointment of Mahrukh Bamji, MD as Chair of the Department of Pediatrics at the NYCHHC/Metropolitan Hospital.

Dr. Bamji has had a versatile career at Metropolitan as a senior clinician, an able administrator, a researcher, and an educator. She is the Professor of Clinical Pediatrics at New York Medical College, Board-certified in Pediatrics and in Pediatric Hospital Medicine. At Metropolitan, she has served in a number of leadership positions, including Deputy Chief of Pediatrics and Chief of Pediatrics Inpatient. She has also been the hospital’s Director of Pediatric AIDS services.

Dr. Bamji is nationally recognized as a researcher in pediatric AIDS. She has been the recipient of several grants from the National Institutes of Health (NIH), Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, (CDC) Health Resources and Services Administration (HRSA), and the New York State AIDS Institute. She was the site Principal Investigator (PI) for the CDC-funded maternal infant transmission study, and for over thirty NIH-funded clinical trials, including the landmark study of prevention of perinatal transmission of HIV Infection, which changed the trajectory of the pediatric AIDS epidemic. Dr. Bamji has also been the recipient of several teaching awards.

In an email announcement the World Zoroastrian Organization UK announced the election of Professor Zenobia Nadirshaw as its new President.

Professor Zenobia Nadirshaw MBE was elected as the President of The World Zoroastrian Organisation on the 7th February 2021.

Professor Zenobia addressed the WZO Committee Members after being elected as the President and we are happy to share her speech with all our members and well wishers worldwide:

“First and foremost I welcome you all to the WZO committee meeting being held this afternoon. Thank you to all the other WZO members from different parts of the world who are attending and listening. Secondly, I thank you all for your response and putting your faith and trust in me and my role as President of the WZO. I give you full assurance that with the help of the local committee and the WZO organization in the different parts of the world we will go onto bigger and better achievements.

In the spirit of Shahpurji and Sammy we need to work collaboratively —- particularly under the very sorry conditions of lockdown due to the covid pandemic raging across the world. It is now even more important to work in a collaborative and constructive manner with due diligence, respect and kindness towards each of us and between each of us. We need to continue the legacy left by Shahpurji and Sammy to offer solutions to our progress by doing appropriate work by taking honest and sensible decisions and being guided by Good thoughts, Good words and Good deeds. Our business is to see clearly what lies ahead and how we proceed on the road to success and prosperity for all the community members and beyond. Thank You”.

Professor Zenobia Nadirshaw MBE is a Consultant Clinical Psychologist and with 3 Honorary Doctorates and 2 Professorships at 2 different Universities in UK. She has over 44 years of experience of working in the English National Health Services and social services sector also Voluntary and Statutory Corporations with financial and management responsibilities.

Her areas of experience and practice includes clinical work, managerial and organisational work (including Corporate Governance work)  Her Academic work  extends as a Publisher, Teacher, Trainer, Examiner and Supervisor. She has published widely in the area of Double Discrimination which addresses issues of inequality, disadvantage and discrimination for vulnerable people in Society. One of her jointly edited book won the first Prize in the Health Series from the British Medical Association.

Professor Zenobia is highly regarded in the world of  Corporate planning, provision and service planning. Through her management of the different sections and special interest groups of the British Psychological Society she has influenced a wide work force in the Health and Social Services Sector. Professor Nadirshaw has had a major influence on service delivery, service planning, service provisions and on the training and competencies which was further effectively improvised in a multicultural, multi-ethnic British context.

She is well versed with the topics of Corporate Governance, team management, new business development and business strategy, including Risk Assessment and Risk Management, mentoring, negotiation, action research, Corporate  Management, Organisational Consultant / Supervisor, Finance Management, Audit and Ethical and Moral responsibility of Organisations. She has been Trustee and Chair of several Boards and Committees, including being Honorary Treasurer.

Professor Nadirshaw has worked extensively with students and with National Community Organisations with a view to encourage, support and develop the younger workforce  in terms of their leadership skills, their  management capacity to work and benefit  from working in diverse environments. Her work ethos has always been  to deliver on strategies in a competent manner and to deliver on key components of Corporate Strategy (Risk Assessment, Risk Management, Continuing Professional and Management Development, Ethical and Moral Responsibility.

Professor Nadirshaw has received several awards over the years from the British Psychological Society, from the City of London (Freeman of the City of London), Inspirational Migrant Woman of The Year and in 2019 received an MBE from Prince William at Buckingham Palace in 2019.

List of Major Awards:

1) The MBE June 2019 given by Prince William at Buckingham Palace

2) City of London Award, Nov 2017

3) Honorary Life Fellow and Lifetime Achievement Award. The British Psychological Society 2017.

4) Inspirational Woman of the year Award 2016.

5) Woman of Inspiration 2016.  (Her portrait was hung in the National Portrait Gallery in London).

6) The TIAW World of Difference award. The International Alliance of Women 2012 Washington.

7) Asian Woman of Achievement Award 2007.

8) Challenging Inequality of Opportunity Award. British Psychological Society 1996-1997

Professor Zenobia`s extensive experience, her dedication and enthusiasm is awe inspiring. WZO wishes Professor Zenobia Nadirshaw many further years of great achievements.

Photographer Arif Mahmood’s Pestonjee, Silver Linings leave one in sweet melancholy

KARACHI:

As the pandemic makes us nostalgic, longing for the yesteryears when times were simpler, a studio-light setup and a little brown bench in front of a dimly lit Arif Mahmood photo helps in turning the bitter yearning into a sweet melancholy. This is precisely what makes Mahmood the maestro.

Article by Tehreem M Alam |The Tribune

Often associated with black and white photography, the Karachi-born artist has made two more additions to his poetic series of photographs – Pestonjee and Silver Linings.

The first is a photo essay chronicling the life of an aged Parsi living in Karachi, from 2013 to 2020, while the latter is a compilation of 32 years of work on the Sufi trail, from 1988 to 2020.

The romance of nostalgia

The majestic scale of Mahmood’s work is hard to wrap one’s head around. Dimly lit, yet pristine, Mahmood’s Pestonjee makes the onlookers yearn for the past. The photo book titled ‘P.S Pestonjee’ is a compilation of nostalgic prints, at times blurry; mocking the façade of ephemerality, for the snapshots have what it takes to be timeless.

Introducing Pestonjee, Mahmood says he is an old man who he started photographing in 2013. “I started shooting Pestonjee in 2013, and after a year of shooting frequently, I asked him if I could do a book on him. He lived in an old house, in an old area near Soldier Bazar. The romance of nostalgia is what stirred me,” said Arif Mahmood.

Mahmood was inspired by Pestonjee’s spirit. He draws a parallel between his father and Pestonjee. “In 2016, my dad fell seriously ill. He passed away in 2019. While in contrast, Pestonjee – who was a year older than my dad – was walking around, alive and well. This inspired me greatly,” he said while talking to The Express Tribune.

However, with the compilation of this series of picturesque moments, Mahmood’s photos also mark a fierce appearance of loneliness.

On a photo titled ‘Monument of Love’ Mahmood remarks a ‘confession’ and writes, “It was evening time, the winter light had just started to pour into his hiding space area which I had been visiting for the past five years or so. I hadn’t seen this decorative piece before in his living/sitting room before. Maybe it was meant to be seen today by me. A symbol of love. A basic desire of all humans, to be loved and cared for. I have this feeling that he might have desired this feeling from another all his life. He was a lonely man heading towards his nineties with only an indifferent nephew in the States.”

Besides nostalgia, there is also an inherent romance of solitude in Pestonjee. The onlookers are exiled from the present just by viewing Mahmood’s work as it draws parallels between the artistic and intellectual impulses of aestheticism.

A spiritual journey

As is well known, Mahmood has been collecting photos of shrines and mosques since the beginning of his career as a photo-journalist. In Silver Linings, he explores the limitlessness of the Sufi experience. “This compilation consists of my work from 1988 to 2020. It is my life as a photographer, and, maybe, my main retrospective,” he writes in the prelude of the monograph.

Mahmood’s Silver Linings is an introspective journey that he took after the death of his mother, who was a seasoned traveller of the mystical path. Presenting the monograph as an ode to his mother, Mahmood writes that the first time he visited Sehwan was with his mother, in 1998.

With his long-standing interest in the shrine of Lal Shahbaz Qalandar in Sehwan, the photographs in this series are almost haunting. Mahmood focuses a lens on the paradox of despair and hope and produces snapshots that are a mixture of wistfulness and submission.

“This was purely my life of faith. The search for solace through the path of the wise. And the wise mostly taught how to cherish life and live through its bounties and recognise the beauty in all this intricacy. To feel a holy presence inside you, to experience God through the world you were thrown into.”

While the monograph is fairly simple, it opens doors we don’t normally enter from and allows us to wander into places of beauty.

The Canvas Gallery will house Mahmood’s Pestonjee and Silver Linings till March 4, 2021.

Shireen Carlson and her husband Leif on their wedding day(Photo Courtesy: Som Sharma/Leif and Shireen Carlson)

By Sunita Sohrabji  | Siliconeer

As a child growing up in Burlingame, California, Shireen Carlson and her two sisters would recite their prayers, punctually at the dot of 5 p.m. each evening.

Carlson, whose maiden name is Sohrabji, immigrated to the U.S. from Mumbai, India with her family in 1970 when she was just three years old. At the time, there were few people of her Zoroastrian faith in the U.S. — Carlson, at the age of six, was one of the first children to have a navjote in America, a ceremony that initiated her into Zoroastrianism, one of the world’s oldest religions which originated in Persia (now Iran). Her mother spent hours each evening teaching her daughter to pray in the Avestan language of their religion.

Zoroastrians from India are also known as Parsis.

Reaching adulthood, Carlson said, she lost her close attachment to her Zoroastrian religion and stopped praying. “I do consider myself a person of faith, not in an organized religion sense, but I do believe there is a God,” she said.

Three years ago, Carlson married her husband, Leif, in a non-denominational ceremony under an ancient oak tree, on their picturesque farm in Petaluma, California.

Just after Christmas last year, Leif, a front-line worker, started to experience muscle aches and chills, coupled with a high fever that reached 102 degrees Fahrenheit. He took a COVID test on Dec. 29 and got a positive result on New Year’s Eve. Shireen took her test on New Year’s Eve and also tested positive, experiencing many of the symptoms of her husband, minus the fever.

The Carlsons struggled with their illnesses for several days. But nine days later, when Leif was still sick, he set up a video call with his physician who remanded him immediately to the ER.

“ I was praying for sure,” Shireen Carlson, a social services worker with Sonoma County, said. “I brought him to the hospital. When Leif got out of the car, I had no idea what was going to happen.”

“That was the hardest moment because I didn’t know if I was going to see him again. I didn’t know what was going to happen. And so then you’re totally on relying on faith at that point, the idea that nothing but faith could bring him back,” she said.

“I was definitely asking God for a few favors so that Leif could come home,” said Carlson, noting that she prayed in English — “in a language I could understand” — rather than the Avestan language of her childhood prayers.

Later that afternoon and at many points during her husband’s four-day stay in the hospital to treat COVID-related pneumonia, she recited the prayers of her childhood.

“I don’t know if it made a difference or not to Leif’s health. But of course, it was just my instinctive reaction,” she said initially, later adding: “But I think it worked.”

Leif says he didn’t remember praying but was extremely worried for his wife, who was also sick with COVID and alone on the farm, unable to get help because of social distancing protocols.

Both the Carlsons have healed and are back to work, after almost a month of illness. Shireen Carlson said she did not know how they were infected.

“We have been following the guidelines, staying home and doing everything we were supposed to and still it happened. It’s really frustrating that after months and months of not seeing family, and missing the holidays, we got it anyway. And that was really sad.”

The Carlsons said they plan to get vaccinated as soon as they are eligible.

Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu are the two main deities in the dualistic doctrine of Zoroastrianism. The former is the supreme deity of this religion, whereas the latter is the evil, destructive spirit. Angra Mainyu or Ahriman is the name of Zoroastrianism’s underlying reality or substance of the “destructive/evil spirit” and the main adversary in Zoroastrianism either of the Spenta Mainyu, the “holy/creative spirits/mentality,” or directly of Ahura Mazda, the highest deity of Zoroastrianism. In these accounts, both Angra Mainyu and Spenta Mainyu are regarded as the creations of Ahura Mazda.

Article by Wu Mingren | Ancient Origins

In art, Ahura Mazda has been depicted in the rock reliefs of the Sassanians, who practiced Zoroastrianism. On the other hand, Angra Mainyu is rarely depicted in art.

Ahura Mazda is spelled also variously as Oromasdes, Ohrmazd, Hormazd, and Hurmuz. The name of this deity, translated from the Avestan language, means “Wise Lord.” Angra Mainyu, on the other hand, is known also as Ahriman in Middle Persian, and the name of this deity translates to mean “Destructive Spirit.” Moreover, Angra Mainyu’s principal epithet is “Druj,” which means “Lie.” This is in opposition to the concept of “Asha,” which has been translated as “Truth,” which is upheld by Ahura Mazda. Thus, in Zoroastrianism, Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu are opposed to each other, either directly, or indirectly.

Sassanid relief at Naqsh-e Rostam showing Ahura Mazda presenting the diadem of sovereignty to Ardashir I. (Darafsh Kaviyani / CC BY 3.0 )

Ahura Mazda And Angra Mainyu: Polar Opposites

There are several different accounts of how Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu are related to one another. One of these versions can be found in the Gathas, the 17 Avestan hymns believed to have been composed by Zoroaster (known also as Zarathustra), the founder of Zoroastrianism. The Gathas are thought to have been written during the 14th or 13th century BC, and were included in the Avesta (the primary collection of Zoroastrian religious texts) when it was codified in about the 7th century AD.

According to the Gathas, a spirit by the name of Vohu Manah appeared before Zoroaster and commanded him to oppose the bloody sacrifices of the traditional Iranian cults, and to give aid to the poor. Although Zoroaster was unaware at first, he later learned that the spirit was sent by Ahura Mazda. Following this revelation, Zoroaster began to preach that through Spenta Mainyu (meaning “Creative Spirit”), Ahura Mazda had created the world, all that is good in it, and human beings. Subsequently, the rest of the universe was created by the six other Amesha Spenta (meaning “Bounteous / Holy Immortals”).

• Who Was Zoroaster and How Did He Gain Religious Followers?
• The Faravahar: The Ancient Zoroastrian Symbol of Iran
• The Master Archers of the Powerful Achaemenid Empire

Despite the creation of the universe by these good spirits, the existing order was threatened by the daevas, or “evil spirits.” Thus, the good and evil spirits are locked in eternal battle, and human beings have to decide which side to support. According to Zoroaster’s teachings, if humans supported the good spirits in their battle, it would hasten the inevitable victory of Ahura Mazda.

These good spirits could be supported in a number of ways, including the avoidance of lies, giving aid to the poor, the performance of certain sacrifices, and the cult of fire.

Additionally, Zoroaster reveals that there would be a Last Judgment at the end of times. All human beings would be led across a narrow bridge and be judged by Spenta Mainyu. The supporters of the evil spirits would fall into a large pit of fire called the “Worst Existence,” whereas the followers of Ahura Mazda would go to the “House of Best Purpose,” the Zoroastrian version of Paradise.

Angra Mainyu (or Ahriman) being slain by Faramarz during a scene from the Shahnameh. (See page for author / CC BY 4.0 )

Interestingly, Zoroaster does not mention Angra Mainyu in the Gathas. Instead, he merely refers to the chief enemy of Ahura Mazda as “The Lie.” Some have pointed out that since the 17 Gathas are of considerable length, Zoroaster would have had sufficient opportunity to mention Angra Mainyu. Instead, Zoroaster consistently refers to “The Lie” throughout his hymns. Therefore, it has been argued that Angra Mainyu may not have been part of Zoroaster’s original teachings.

Conversely, it has been pointed out that the name Angra Mainyu itself is ancient, and that it was a very early innovation, or a very common name. By replacing the evil spirit Angra Mainyu with the more abstract concept of “The Lie,” Zoroaster was trying to, according to some scholars, foster greater personal responsibility amongst his followers.

Another source that deals with Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu is the collection of writings traditionally known the Bundahishn. This work, whose name translates to mean “Primal Creation,” was written in the Book Pahlavi script, and deals with Zoroastrian cosmogony and cosmology. In the Bundahishn, Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu seem to have existed for all eternity but were separated by a void.

When Angra Mainyu began attacking Ahura Mazda, however, the process of creation began. The world was created as a battlefield, so that Ahura Mazda could vanquish Angra Mainyu. This battle is supposed to last for 9000 years, and it is believed that with the appearance of Zoroaster, 6000 years into the battle, Angra Mainyu’s supremacy came to an end. For the last 3000 years, Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu would fight on an equal footing. It is also believed that at the end of this 3000 years, Ahura Mazda would emerge victorious.

Painted clay and alabaster head of a Zoroastrian priest wearing a distinctive Bactrian-style headdress, 3rd–2nd century BC. ( Public domain )

Questions About The Origins Of Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu

One of the issues with the account in the Bundahishn is that the origins of Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu are not discussed. This presents a problem if one were to reject the version in which Angra Mainyu is not the direct enemy of Ahura Mazda. Since the Bundahishn presents Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu as direct opposites, the question of their origins has been raised. This led to the development of Zurvanism, a branch of Zoroastrianism that is now extinct.

According to Zurvanites, Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu were created by Zurvan (meaning “Time”). This solution, however, disrupted the very essence of Zoroastrianism, and therefore was condemned as heretical.

As an evil spirit, it is only natural that Angra Mainyu was not worshipped by the Zoroastrians. On the other hand, Ahura Mazda was worshipped by them. This is seen, for instance, in the Yasna ceremony, the principal act of worship in Zoroastrianism. The ceremony, which has its roots in ancient Indo-Iranian cultic practices, was used as a form of “maintenance of the cosmic integrity of the good creation of Ahura Mazda.” The central aspect of the Yasna ceremony is the preparation and consumption of haoma, i.e., the sacred drink of immortality. Only qualified priests are allowed to perform this ritual, and it has to be performed each day in the morning. Common people are prohibited from entering the sacred space where the ritual is performed, though the ritual may be attended by a lay patron.

An important aspect of the ritual is the invitation of the good spirits into the sacred space where the Yasna ceremony is being performed. The first of these would have been Ahura Mazda, followed by Amesha Spenta and a number of other good spirits. These spirits would be invited using certain verses from the Yasna, the liturgical text recited during the Yasna ceremony. It is believed that during the ritual, the glorious purity of Ahura Mazda is cultivated, and shines through the priest who is conducting the Yasna ceremony. In turn, those present would be able to obtain a glimpse of the world as it will be following its renewal at the end of times.

Another way in which Ahura Mazda may be worshipped by Zoroastrians is through the Afrinigan liturgy. The goal of this ceremony is to offer direct praise to Ahura Mazda for the goodness that he has bestowed upon the world. Additionally, further blessings of Ahura Mazda on the community of Zoroastrians would be requested through this ceremony. During the Afrinigan liturgy, various offerings are presented to Ahura Mazda, including trays covered with fruits, eggs, water, milk, as well as three cups of wine, and eight flowers. These items are meant to symbolize Ahura Mazda’s blessings on humanity.

A lone modern Zoroastrian at Dakhmeh Zartoshtian (Zoroastrian Towers of Silence) in Yazd, Iran. (Fars News Agency / CC BY 4.0 )

In Modern Times Zoroastrians Have Resorted To Personal Faith

In more recent times, the number of Zoroastrians has dwindled to such an extent that many of them no longer have access to public ritual observances. Therefore, for contemporary Zoroastrians, these public rituals have been substituted with the private remembrance of Ahura Mazda as an essential part of their religious exercise. The most common form of this private remembrance is prayer, one of the most notable being the Ahuna Vairya prayer. This is considered to be the most sacred Zoroastrian prayer, and is believed to have been used by Ahura Mazda himself to subdue Angra Mainya at the beginning of their 9000-year battle.

With the aid of the Ahuna Vairya prayer, Ahura Mazda was able to force his enemy to lay prostrate for 3000 years. The status of the Ahuna Vairya prayer in Zoroastrianism has been compared to that of the Lord’s Prayer in Christianity, and reads as follows:

Since He is (the One) to be chosen by the world

therefore the judgment emanating from truth himself

(to be passed) on the deeds of good thought of the world

as well as the power, is committed to Mazda Ahura whom (people)

assign as a shepherd to the poor.

Apart from that, modern-day Zoroastrians may remember Ahura Mazda in all creation since he considered to be the creator of the world . This includes one’s own physical and mental well-being, since taking care of one’s physical and mental health is a way to honor creation, and therefore the creator himself, Ahura Mazda.

The Behistun Inscription, dated to about 520 BC, in Iran. (PersianDutchNetwork / CC BY-SA 4.0 )

Ahura Mazda has been depicted in art over the ages, though not consistently. For instance, during the Achaemenid period, the rulers of Persia worshipped Ahura Mazda, though it is possible that they were not Zoroastrians. In any case, Ahura Mazda is mentioned in many Achaemenid texts, including the famous Behistun Inscription , where Darius I proclaimed that “Ahura Mazda has granted unto me this empire. Ahura Mazda brought me help, until I gained this empire; by the grace of Ahura Mazda do I hold this empire”.

Despite these textual references to Ahura Mazda, the Achaemenids seem to have rarely depicted the deity. This is noted by ancient authors such as Herodotus and supported by the available archaeological evidence. Herodotus also mentions that the Achaemenids had a custom whereby an empty chariot drawn by white horses would accompany their armies. The chariot was supposed to be sacred to the supreme god of the Persians, whom the ancient historian refers to as “Zeus,” who was most likely Ahura Mazda.

The earliest known reference to an image of Ahura Mazda is also found in a text, in which a satrap of Lydia is recorded to have erected a statue of the deity during the 39 ^th year of Artaxerxes II Mnenon (around 365 BC). Since it was written by a Greek, the deity was referred to as “Zeus” the lawgiver, and once again, probably refers to Ahura Mazda.

The depiction of Ahura Mazda in images is also said to have occurred during the Parthian period . Unfortunately, there has not been much elaboration in the modern sources about what these images might have been.

During the Sassanian period , Ahura Mazda continued to be depicted for some time. The best-known of these depictions are the rock reliefs depicting the investiture of the Sassanian kings. An example of these is the Investiture Relief of Ardashir I at Naqsh-e Rostam, which was created during the 3 ^rd century AD. In the relief (see top image), Ardashir is portrayed on the left, whilst Ahura Mazda is on the right. Both figures are on horseback, and the deity is shown presenting the Sassanian king with the ring of kingship, symbolizing the legitimization of his rule. Incidentally, the corpses of Artabanus IV, the last Parthian ruler, and Angra Mainyu are depicted under the hooves of the horses, symbolizing the triumph of the king and the deity over their respective deities.

It has been noted however, that the Sassanians were iconoclasts, and therefore not in favor of depicting Ahura Mazda. It has been pointed out, nevertheless, that this applies to worship of the deity, and since the rock reliefs were not of a religious nature, the depiction of the deity on them was allowed. In any case, as time went by, it became common in Zoroastrianism to reject anthropomorphic images of deities, including Ahura Mazda.

To conclude, Ahura Mazda is the supreme deity in Zoroastrianism, whereas Angra Mainyu is his principal adversary. Nevertheless, the understanding of these two beings has changed over time, in accordance with the development of Zoroastrian theology.

With each change, a new layer of complexity has been added. In some ways, this is also seen in the depiction of Ahura Mazda in art, whereby he is portrayed at certain times, and in certain contexts, but not in others.

Top image: The Investiture Relief of Ardashir I, with Ardashir on the left, and Ahura Mazda on the right. Source: Photo Ginolerhino 2002 / CC BY-SA 3.0

By Wu Mingren

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Introducing Ervad Yazad T Bhadha-  8WZYC Secretary & Speakers Liaison Officer

My name is Ervad Yazad Tehmuras Bhadha and I am the Resident Priest for the Zoroastrian Trust Funds of Europe (ZTFE), London and am taking on the role as Secretary for the 8^th World Zoroastrian Youth Congress (8WZYC). I graduated in 2012 in the field of commerce from the Byramjee Jeejeebhoy College of Commerce (BJCC) and then completed my Masters in Commerce 2 years later from Mumbai University. I was then appointed the position of Zoroastrian Trust Funds of Europe’s (ZTFE) Resident Priest in 2014 and came to the UK in November of that year.

From the very beginning, I have been welcomed by the ZTFE and the Zoroastrian community in the UK with open arms and have been shown a tremendous amount of love and support by all. It has been my privilege to serve the community in both joyous and sad times, and I feel blessed to be able to repay the love and kindness shown to me.

My daily religious duties include performing various ceremonies such as After Death, Jashans, Navjotes, Weddings, Boi, etc. I also advise community members on religious matters as well as run Navjote Prayer Classes for the Zoroastrian youth, and volunteering as a teacher for our XYZ Children’s Education Fun Club.  

Growing up and studying in India, I have observed both similarities and differences in the way our religion is practiced in the UK, and although many of the fundamentals of our religion remain the same worldwide, there are some noticeable distinctions between life in India and the UK.

Zoroastrianism is recognised as one of the 9 World Religions in the UK, however due to our low numbers and limited places of worship, it is less known than in India. I am honoured to represent the Zoroastrian Community in the UK and do so by participating in various interfaith meetings and activities, in order to help spread awareness of our beautiful religion as well as network and learn with those from other faiths.

In 2015, as part of my development in my role at ZTFE, I was fortunate to receive the ZTFE Faridoon and Mehraban Zartoshty Scholarship in Zoroastrian Studies, thus giving me the opportunity to study for a Masters in Religions of Asia and Africa at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), University of London. The course focused on Zoroastrianism: Historical and Contemporary Perspectives, as well as an introduction to both the Avestan and Pahlavi languages. I am extremely proud to say that I gained my Masters and graduated in 2018.

My role as the ZTFE Resident Priest and my position on the ZTFE Young Zoroastrian (YZ) Committee as a Social Event Organizer means that I participate in numerous community events and activities, which I thoroughly enjoy attending and mixing with my Zoroastrian peers. It is this same enthusiasm that has brought me to volunteer for the next 8WZYC, being hosted by the ZTFE in 2023 in the UK. Here, I am undertaking the role as the Congress Secretary and also central liaison lead of the Speaker Committee.

I am extremely excited to be involved with the 8WZYC, as this will be my first Zoroastrian Youth Congress in both the capacity as an organizer and attendee. Being a member of such a dynamic team that is as passionate as I am is very motivational and encouraging. We all share the vision in wanting to make the 8WZYC a great success and this makes me even more proud to see the involvement and dedication of our Zoroastrian youth.

The last time the ZTFE Young Zoroastrians of the UK hosted a World Zoroastrian youth congress was the Second World Zoroastrian Youth Congress (2WZYC) in 1997, chaired by Kerman Yazdi Jasavala. One of the main reasons why the 2WZYC was so successful was that it had a good mix of UK and international delegates, invited numerous UK and international speakers, including two Vada Dasturjis and scholar priests, who spoke on a variety of topics on our Zoroastrian religion, history, heritage, culture and contemporary matters, and we will endeavour to do similar.

As the Secretary for the 8WZYC, there are many policies and protocols that we need to be aware of such as ensuring General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) is abided by and everyone including committee members, volunteers and attendees has given their written consent to be contacted. This is especially tricky, as we are very keen to include young members of the community as volunteers on different committees. As the congress is due to take place in the summer of 2023, many of these potential volunteers, may not currently be over the age of eighteen, but will be eligible to attend at the time of the congress and as such, it is vital for us to communicate and gain their consent and buy in, of both them and their parents.

Both the main committee and all of the sub committees continue to meet during the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic virtually, in order to monitor the progress and ensure all milestones are achieved on time. Our monthly speaker committee meetings cover creating speaker schedules/ timetables for group and individual sessions, devising and adhering to a budget, brainstorming about how and in what field the potential speakers will contribute etc. At this early stage we are short listing potential speakers which will be finalized in due course. This in itself is a balancing act to ensure that we are being inclusive for all whether that be religious views, perspectives on the future of today’s youth within their communities, etc. as we want to ensure these are represented in a fair and respectful manner.

In addition to inviting inspirational speakers from around the world, we in the UK are enriched with world renowned institutions that link heavily to Zoroastrian studies and its history, including the world renowned British Museum and the British Library, which currently holds a lot of material on Zoroastrianism and Ancient Iran. We also are fortunate to have the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), the only university in the world that has a Chair / Professorship in Zoroastrian Studies – Zartoshty Brothers Professorship funded by our beloved ZTFE patrons and benefactors Faridoon and Mehraban Zartoshty, together with Professor (Emeritus) Mary Boyce. SOAS is also home of the SOAS Shapoorji Pallonji Institute of Zoroastrian Studies (SSPIZS), funded by Mr Shapoor Mistry in the name of his pioneering grandfather Mr. Pallonji Shapoorji Mistry. He was inspired to fund the institute following the success of the Everlasting Flame: Zoroastrianism in History and Imagination exhibition at SOAS in 2013 core funded by the ZTFE.

It is exciting to see the 8WZYC start to take shape as we progress. It is an incredible opportunity to be a part of this once in a lifetime event and to work alongside so many passionate and creative young Zoroastrians.

We look forward to seeing all of you in London in 2023!

Grab an icepick, start climbing the ladder: Nina Wadia on breaking through & giving back to society

Nina Wadia, who rose to fame in the 1990s with the iconic comedy sketch show ‘Goodness Gracious Me’, received an OBE for contributions to entertainment and charity in the Queen’s New Year’s Honours List 2021.

‘

iGlobal’ caught up with the former ‘EastEnders’ star to hear about her life and achievements, and how she came to be one of the most pioneering Global Indians on British television, inspiring millions around the world to pursue careers in acting and comedy.

Article by Vidhu Sharma | iGlobal

In this exclusive interview, Nina shares anecdotes of her rise in the industry and some guidance for aspiring artistes and changemakers who hope to break through the glass ceiling in entertainment.

Dare to dream

Nina was born into a Parsi family in a humble one-bedroom flat in the Dadar Parsi Colony in Bombay. It was a pleasant arrangement, but at the age of nine, her parents packed them all up to start a brand-new life in Hong Kong. They opened an Indian restaurant on Wyndham Street called ‘Ashoka’. It is in China that Nina made her first fast friends, whom she is still very close with today.

From learning classical Indian dance as a child, her passion for performing continued long into her teenage years. Unsurprisingly, the ‘Vyjayanthimala Bharatanatyam School’ that she attended in Bombay did not have a Chinese branch for her to transfer to, so she took up tap dancing instead.

Her love of dance turned to acting when she had the opportunity to bring one of her writing sketches to life in college. “It was the biggest buzz I’d ever had in my life. Even though I had no experience in acting, I did it and I had such a blast doing it.”

Much to her mother’s dismay, she decided there and then, that she was going to be an actor. After roping in reinforcements in the form of her brother to convince her mother of her choice in career, she came to the UK to attend drama school. “I loved Shakespeare, and so there was no contest between the UK and US about where to study. I needed to be in the home of classical theatre.”

Unpredictable industry

In the early 1990s, Nina moved to Sutton, south London, and attended a small theatre school in Richmond. Despite having already lived in the UK in the 1950s and returning to India less than enamored by the cold weather and tough conditions, her parents followed her to the UK to support her during her studies.

In an ironically dramatic turn of events, the director of the school ran away with the students’ fees and Nina’s mother seized the opportunity to warn her against pursuing a career in a “rough industry”. Yet, Nina took it in her stride and decided to use it as ammunition to succeed. “If the worst of it had already happened, it meant that the good things were yet to come.”

In an unlikely extension of generosity, Barbara Buckmaster, who ran a theatre school in Wandsworth, took two students on from Nina’s cohort to mentor through acting. Nina was one of them, and during her time with Barbara, she started to audition for roles.

Nina wrote to all the acting agents on the back of the ‘Stage’ newspaper, as was common practice then. She received one response. Sue Hammer, now Swami Satvikananda, became Nina’s agent and confidant for the formative years of her entry into the entertainment industry.

D’Yer Eat with Your Fingers?

For six years, Nina trained diligently in her craft and bounced between English and Indian theatre. At Stratford East, she played a Sindhi girl in a production with Tamasha Theatre Company, and worked years later with Mark Rylance. Philip Hedley, the Artistic Director encouraged Nina and Mark to write together. Following a funny incident in a local Indian restaurant where all diners on the table, bar Nina, were offered cutlery, she went on to co-write a comedy production called ‘D’Yer Eat with Your Fingers?’ “I asked the waiter, “Mujhe kyun nahin diya? (why didn’t you give me cutlery?)” and he replied: “You?! You eat with your fingers!”

It was around this time that Nina and Sanjeev Bhaskar’s paths crossed. Despite having lived just down the road from each other in Hounslow, west London, for many years, they met all the way on the other side of London, where he approached her with an opportunity to audition for a new show with the BBC. Their work in earlier versions of ‘Goodness Gracious Me’ with Nithin Sawhaney were scouted by the team behind ‘The Real McCoy’, and before long, GGM became a national blockbuster and they were labeled “role models” by avid fans across the UK.

“I was visiting my sister in Alberta, Calgary, in Canada, where I met my husband for the first time. I told him I was an actress, and he asked me if I was famous. I laughed and said no, but when I returned to the UK after that trip, I walked along Oxford Street and people were calling my name. It was so surreal!”

Embrace of the underdog

“We had no idea how big ‘Goodness Gracious Me’ would get. We were just happy for it to be appreciated by the Indian, Pakistani and Parsi community, but the British really embraced us too.

“There is a great sense of supporting the underdog in the British mindset, and I think they appreciated that we left no stone unturned – we made fun of everyone, but we did it with positivity and love.”

Nina describes comedy as a “universal language”, which has allowed her, over the years, to convey serious messages in a palatable way. During lockdown, she created an online skit on her Instagram page called “Lockdown Mutha” which allows her to vent her frustrations about being trapped in a house with two teenagers through humour.

“In ‘Goodness Gracious Me’, we wanted to share our experiences. If you listen to what we’re doing in the ‘Going for an English’ sketch, we’re turning the narrative on its head. We didn’t know how ahead of our time we were, and it’s for this reason that British viewers embraced us.”

Maternity leave to Mrs Masood

After finishing the iconic GGM in 2001, Nina went back to back working on sitcoms. She played roles in ‘Perfect World’, ‘Chambers’, ‘All About Me’, ‘Vagina Monologues’ and many more before she fell pregnant with her second child.

It was six months after her father had told her to try out for “that show about east London that all [my] friends watch” that the casting director of ‘EastEnders’ got in touch with a proposal for the perfect role for her on Albert Square. In a laughable misunderstanding with her agent, the executive producer hadn’t been informed that Nina was eight months pregnant and therefore unsuitable for the immediate start that they’d hoped for. “I turned up to meet him and we both looked at each other like “Uh oh!””.

Much to her surprise, ‘EastEnders’ were keen to introduce Zainab Masood to the Square, and waited until Nina was ready.

When her son was just six weeks old, the BBC provided her with a nanny and dressing room to breastfeed in, and rushed her onto set for her inimitable and iconic performance of Mrs Masood.

“I wanted to stay for six months, and I ended up staying for six years.”

Charity and giving back

Nina’s roaring success in acting has led her into acting opportunities all over the world, winning critical acclaim as a global comedy pioneer. However, she is not celebrated solely for her creative talents, but also her tireless dedication to charity.

“Success was never about money for me, or anyone in my family. We started with very little, but we knew how to make the most of it. It’s taken a global pandemic for most people to understand the value of family, but for me, it’s a general Parsi thing, to know that community is more important than anything else, so when it came to any opportunity to give back, it was within us to do so.”

Nina currently works with many global, national and local charities, including Kidney Research UK, The Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF), Barnardo’s, Education Saves Lives and Binti Period. “Whatever charity comes my way; I try my best to support.”

As a lifetime commitment, Nina contributes to the upkeep of the orphanage which took care of her father as a child, in Pune, India. For the same reason, she works with Barnardo’s in the UK, who upskill children who have had difficult upbringings to give them fairer opportunities in life.

After losing her mother to a polycystic kidney condition, Nina advocates for raising awareness among the south Asian community. She also opened dialysis units in Leicester and Ashford, Middlesex, and fought for TVs to be attached to the end of the beds, as it’s a hugely unpleasant experience for patients who have to have their blood dialysed for hours at a time, multiple times a week.

Three years ago, Nina’s son was diagnosed with type one diabetes. With hope of a cure in reach, Nina works with JDRF to do all she can to help find it. “The only way I could reconcile my son having type one was doing something about it. I’ll be honest, when he was first diagnosed, I wanted to run away as far away as possible. I felt it was so unfair. But then I thought maybe it has come to my family because I am someone who can do something about it.”

A big inspiration

A big inspiration to Nina was Helen Taylor Thompson, who founded the Education Saves Lives charity, which worked on a campaign to educate rural communities in Africa and India. “She was a phenomenal women with an amazing idea.”

Helen’s idea was to record videos on mobile devices and place them in shipping containers, which were dropped in the middle of villages in India and Africa. The videos were recorded in local languages and contained guidance for children and young women from these impoverished communities about basic hygiene and their rights. “I recorded them in as many languages as I know to support the campaign.”

“Helen once told me a story about a little girl who went on a quest to save starfish. The girl was criticised for her naivety and told that she won’t be able to save them all. The little girl replied, “That doesn’t matter. What matters are the ones I’m able to save,” and this was Helen’s approach to life and helping people. If I could be half the woman that she was, I’ll be able to rest happy.”

Her Majesty’s recognition

“Having an honour to put after my name will give these charities a much-deserved boost, and that’s exactly what I intend to use if for.”

Nina has been inundated with warm wishes from loved ones in response to her OBE. “The only heartbreaking thing is that my parents were not around to see it. Everyone says, ‘they’re still with you and they see it all’, but I just wish I had that moment to go to them and say, ‘You’re not going to believe this one!’”

She shared the story behind the phone call she received from the Cabinet Office on her 52nd birthday to inform her of her recognition. She very rudely told them to go away, assuming that it was a prank!

“Then, a few minutes go by and they call again and I’m thinking ‘this is a persistent prank caller’, and he says: ‘I really am calling from the Cabinet Office. You can look the number up on the internet if you’re suspicious…’ I couldn’t believe it!”

It’s a real marriage

“I know they always say the woman is the power behind the man, but my husband truly is the power behind me, and there are plenty of husbands who return the favour. He’s my biggest champion!” Nina married her holiday romance and musical composer Raiomond Mirza in 1998, and they live together in west London, with their two teenage children.

“It’s a real marriage, we fight like hell, but there’s a genuine equality in my marriage which is something I’ve always fought for with women.”

Nina told us about her daughter’s aspiration to become a fashion designer. “More than anything, we’ve always wanted our daughter to be independent and self-sufficient. We’ll do whatever it is we can to make her dream happen for her.

“Our son wants to be a stand-up comic, so I suppose we’ve had to come to terms with the fact that there will never be any money coming into the house.”

Only way to progress

Nina is an avid fan of today’s rising stars, including Humza Productions and Isla, who both approached her when they were starting out. “It comes down to material… If it’s good, I’ll do it. It’s important to support the next generation. The new guys have it in them to make real change happen.”

“More progress needs to be made when it comes to diversity in television and entertainment, but it gets easier with each generation. There are so many other mediums and access points now. If nothing else, I hope ‘Goodness Gracious Me’ gave people the confidence to pursue creative careers.”

Nina’s five top tips for upcoming artists and changemakers:

1. “Grab an icepick and start climbing the ladder. I’m sanguine about the process now. Yes, there is a glass ceiling, but you take your time and you chip away at wherever it is that you want to get to.”

2. “If you’re serious about a career in acting, train! A lot of people think they can get away with being a one-hit wonder on Instagram, but the harsh reality is, what my mum told me, “put on a five-year plan. If in five years, you haven’t reached your goal, re-evaluate.”

3. “There’s a difference between being ambitious and persistent, and just being stubborn and expecting the world to put everything at your feet.”

4. “Also, have one other string to your bow. If you want to be a writer, also be a performer. If you want to be a dancer, also try and sing. Have one other thing you can do as that really helps in this profession because it’s tough.”

5. “And don’t be discouraged by the pandemic. There are more productions happening now than ever before so get out there as fast as you can!”

*Catch up on Nina Wadia OBEs ‘Lockdown Mutha’ here

Nina Wadia

Shrabani Basu’s latest book is about an unexpected friendship in the 20th century

In the village of Great Wyrley near Birmingham, someone is mutilating horses. Someone is also sending threatening letters to the vicarage, where the vicar, Shahpur Edalji, is a Parsi convert to Christianity and the first Indian to have a parish in England.

His son George – quiet, socially awkward and the only boy at school with distinctly Indian features – grows up into a successful barrister, till he is improbably linked to and then prosecuted for the crimes in a case that left many convinced that justice hadn’t been served.
When he is released early, his conviction still hangs over him.

Having lost faith in the police and the legal system, George Edalji turns to the one man he believes can clear his name – the one whose novels he spent his time reading in prison, the creator of the world’s greatest detective. When he writes to Arthur Conan Doyle asking him to meet, Conan Doyle agrees.

From the author of Victoria and Abdul comes The Mystery of the Parsee Lawyer (Bloomsbury), an eye-opening look at race and an unexpected friendship in the early days of the 20th century, and the perils of being foreign in a country built on empire.

Shrabani Basu is a journalist and author. Apart from Victoria & Abdul: The True Story of the Queen’s Closest Confidant, now a major motion picture, her books include For King and Another Country: Indian Soldiers on the Western Front, 1914–18.

In 2010, she set up the Noor Inayat Khan Memorial Trust and campaigned for a memorial for the WWII British spy of Indian descent, who was captured and executed by the Gestapo, which was unveiled by Princess Anne in London in November 2012.

In September 2012, producers Zafar Hai and Tabrez Noorani obtained the film rights to Basu’s biography, Spy Princess: The Life of Noor Inayat Khan. Her story is portrayed in the 2020 film A Call to Spy written by Sarah Megan Thomas and directed by Lydia Dean Pilcher. Noor is played by Indian actor Radhika Apte.

Parsi Khabar is happy to present it’s first ever online program this Navroze.

We will anchor a Nowruz 2021 Parenting Special titled

Rejuvenation Through Manifestation

with Dr. Mickey Mehta from Mumbai, India & Meher Amalsad from California, USA.

Saturday, March 13, 2020  07:00 PM Pacific,  10:00 PM Easterm

Sunday March 14, 2020  08:30 AM IST,  3:00 AM GMT

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Host & Moderator: Arzan Sam Wadia, Founder of Parsi Khabar

This Special M&M Show Is Dedicated To Mickey and Meher’s Daughters Karishma And Anahita, as well as to All The Daughters Of Humanity.

Join us for this enlightened session on the joys of parenting, as they share their special Father-Daughter relationship of unconditional love and spirituality with humanity.

About Dr. Mickey Mehta

Global Leading Holistic Health Guru And Corporate Life Coach

Dr. Mickey Mehta completed 50 years of yoga with 39 years of Pioneering experience  in the Health And Wellness industry.

Dr. Mickey Mehta is a leading global holistic health guru and a corporate life coach to Bollywood superstars, top politicians, India Inc. and several Miss Worlds and Miss Universes. The recipient of ‘The Health and Wellness Icon of India’ award by Economic Times and is among the ‘100 Most Impactful Wellness Leaders of the World’ as announced at the Global Wellness Conclave 2018.

He is considered the first personal trainer of India, the first fitness columnist and the first fitness TV and radio presenter in India. He has trained police, army, navy and air force personnel.

An honorary double doctorate in Holistic Health and Life Sciences, from the Open International University for Complementary Medicines. He is author of best sellers ‘The Shoonyam Quotient’ and ‘Lose weight gain shape’. Also, a speaker at Harvard University, IIMs, IIT and held holistic health workshops globally.

The author, poet, philosopher, the brand, the institution, the legendary – DR. MICKEY MEHTA who gets you Energized, Naturalized, Optimized, Maximized, Wellness Revolutionized and gets you IMMUNIZED and MICKEYMIZED!!!

Follow Dr. Mickey Mehta on Twitter | Facebook | Linkedin | Instagram

About Meher Amalsad

Professional Speaker And Author Of  Bread for the Head

Meher Amalsad is an Engineer, Educator, Inventor, Professional Speaker and published Author of Bread for the Head

This gift book is filled with thoughts, ideas and affirmations that inspires the heart, motivates the mind and transforms the soul, with prime focus on Parenting, Unconditional Love, Spiritual Consciousness, Success, and Excellence. This work which is rooted in ‘ROLE MODELING rather than RULE MODELING’ has been used by corporations, schools, children, parents, teachers, hospitals, wellness centers as well as healing and rehabilitation centers. His work has been showcased to over hundred million people across the globe through his appearance on numerous Radio, Cable, Satellite and Television Talk Shows nationwide. His philosophies are simple yet applicable in each and every aspect of life. (www.Bread4TheHead.com).

His purpose is to help others excel academically, discover and maximize their true passions, and become their authentic best selves.

His work is focused on EMPOWERING PEOPLE to create a footprint of success, in them.

Meher has served as the Founding Chair of the North American And World Zoroastrian Youth Congresses since 1985.

He has worked as a Program Manager for Hughes Aircraft Company, which is one of the top Aerospace Defense Companies in the world.

His life’s work has been focused on creating UNITY WITHIN DIVERSITY IN HUMANITY.

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The March 2021 Ba Humata lecture shall be on the topic: A Prayerful Life is more meaningful than a life full of prayers. (Yasna 12.2 and 12.3)

The lecture is scheduled for March 7, 2021 at 8:00 AM Pacific,  11:00 AM  Eastern, 9:30 PM India, 4:00 PM GMT

Join Zoom Meeting

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Meeting ID: 834 0882 6220

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Speakers and Panelists:

Ervad Dr. Jehan Bagli from Canada

Byram Avari from Pakistan

Mobedyar Mahshad Khosraviani from Canada and United Kingdom

Jehaan Kotwal from India

Moderated by Dr. Karishma Koka, PhD Founder, Host And Moderator of Ba Humata from United Kingdom

Please Reserve Your Time For A Milestone Experience Of Your Life.

More info at: http://ba-humata.co.uk

True tales of women breaking barriers to forbidden places, and bettering the lives of others, are inspiring. Mithan Jamshed Lam is one of these legendary women. Recently I chatted about this illustrious lady (who passed away in 1981) with another woman who is doing important civil rights work in contemporary India, the Mumbai solicitor Parinaz Madan. In an interesting twist, Parinaz is married to Dinyar Patel, a professor and author of Naoroji: Pioneer of Indian Nationalism.

Posted by Sujata Massey. This post originally appeared on Murder Is Everywhere.

I was fortunate enough to meet Parinaz and Dinyar in real life last January at the Royal Bombay Yacht Club in Mumbai. We dined on a delicious biryani and many other dishes as we discussed the history of the city and the freedom movement. They are both Parsis and have been kind enough to also answer my questions about the minutiae of the community’s cultural life. Their assistance was key in creating realistic social situations in my forthcoming novel, The Bombay Prince.

Last year, Parinaz and Dinyar wrote an article for BBC News about Bombay’s first woman barrister, Mithan Ardeshir Tata, known after her marriage as Mithan Jamshed Lam. In 1924, Mithan became the first woman advocate permitted to argue cases at Bombay’s High Court. Mithan’s education, family background, and relentless struggle for women’s rights were influential in the development of my series protagonist, Perveen Mistry.

It was much harder for me to find scholarly material about Mithan than Cornelia Sorabji. In 2016, I bought a reprint of her autobiography, Autumn Leaves, at the K.R. Cama Oriental Institute, a center for Parsi scholarship. The autobiography is dominated by the stories of Mithan’s world travels. I wanted to know specifics about her life in India, so I’ve put some questions to Parinaz about her.

Were Mithan’s parents encouraging of her career choice as a lawyer? Were there any other events in her youth that pushed her toward the field?

Mithan’s autobiography lends the impression that her family had very progressive leanings.

She describes her father Ardeshir as a man of “liberal views” who wholeheartedly backed her academic pursuits. In fact, her father spurred his studious wife Herabai to complete her B.A. degree, by employing a number of tutors for her.

Mithan also seems to have shared a very close and almost sororal bond with her mother, which is not surprising, considering that they were separated by only seventeen years in age!

As a teenager, Mithan was clearly inspired by her mother’s social activism and commitment to securing equal voting rights for women and that likely set the stage for her active participation in the female suffragist movement subsequently. She was all of 21 when she was chosen, alongside her mother, to deliver evidence on the necessity of female suffrage in India to the British Parliament.

Mithan had a stellar academic track record even before studying law: she obtained her B.A. from Elphinstone College, Bombay and was the first woman to be awarded the Cobden Club Medal for securing the highest marks in Economics. She then went on to pursue an M.Sc. degree from the London School of Economics, while her mother was studying for a Social Service course at the same university.

Since Mithan’s childhood and early life were steeped in political and social activism, law may have seemed to be the most natural career choice for her. She probably recognised the potential of a legal career to create lasting and meaningful reform in areas that she deeply cared about, such as women and children rights, and was ably supported by her parents along the way.

Cornelia Sorabji is arguably the most renowned female lawyer from colonial India. Her career was divided between private practice in a firm with her brother in Allahabad, and many more years working throughout India as a legal investigator for the Indian Civil Service. She was almost 31 years older than Mithan, but was called to the Bar in Britain (i.e. admitted to practice in courts) after Mithan. Could you explain why that happened?

Yes, Cornelia was the first woman to study law at Oxford in 1889 (nearly a decade before Mithan was even born). However, she could not be called to the Bar after finishing her law exams because women were prohibited from practicing law in Britain, until the passage of the Sex Disqualification (Removal) Act, 1919.

This Act which opened the doors for women to be admitted to the Bar in the United Kingdom was passed only in 1919. Mithan who was fortuitously in London at the time was admitted to Lincoln’s Inn in 1920, followed by Cornelia who returned from India to Britain two years later. Mithan became the first woman to be called to the Bar at Lincoln’s Inn in January 1923 when she was 24. Cornelia was actually called to the Bar a few months later than Mithan in June, when she was 55.

Providentially, the Indian government also abolished restrictions on women to practice law in 1923: the same year that Mithan set sail to India after finishing her studies in London. This enabled her to kickstart her legal career as the first female lawyer in the Bombay High Court in 1924. I think she sums all this up quite aptly in her autobiography: “I must have been born under a lucky star, for I always found myself in the right place at the right time.”

What was Mithan’s life like when she started working as a barrister? Did you uncover any stories of success and struggles against discrimination?

Ironically, Mithan bagged her first legal case from a client who wanted to “inflict upon the opponent the humiliation of being defeated by a woman.” She recalls feeling like “a new animal at the zoo” while appearing in court, arousing the curiosity of men who peeped through its doorways to catch a glimpse of this unique species. Understandably, this made her feel extremely “self-conscious”. Such acts of discrimination notwithstanding, newspaper records reveal that Mithan practiced in court for about 15 years from her enrolment as a lawyer in 1924 in India.

Mithan was extremely outspoken on women’s rights. Tell us about some of her work in that area, and the legislation she proposed.

Apart from the female suffrage activities that Mithan is renowned for, she was a staunch advocate for amending marriage, divorce, inheritance and guardianship laws in India to make them fairer to women, often drawing upon international legislation. As a Zoroastrian herself, her legal expertise was sought in reforming the laws for marriage and divorce in the Parsi community.

One of the women’s organisations that she was most prominently associated with was the All-India Women’s Conference. As its President, she propounded a shift of focus from “sewing and cutting classes” for women to their more active participation in industries and emphasised on the need for family planning. She also encouraged women to take a more active role in civic engagement and public works in the country. After the partition of India in 1947, Mithan was tasked with being the Chairperson of a committee constituted for resettling refugee women and children in Bombay.

But her activism was not restricted to only women’s issues. She also spearheaded hunger eradication programs, anti-child labour advocacy and slum improvement projects in India. In 1928, she joined protests with the Bombay Youths League about a proposed school fee hike for secondary education in India. The Bombay Chronicle noted “The ridiculous plea that higher education should be further taxed to find funds for primary education is aptly described by Miss Tata as the policy of robbing Peter to pay Paul.” These protests may have had a hand in the government backing down on the fee hike attempt for colleges and schools eventually.

Mithan married in 1933, probably at age 35. Do you know anything about her husband Jamshed Lam’s feelings about her continued activism and legal activities?

I will let Mithan’s autobiography do the talking for this question. She describes Jamshed, a lawyer himself, as “a wonderful and loving husband” who “was proud of my achievements and helped to advance me in every way….I have been greatly lucky in my menfolk–a liberal father of very advanced views, a loving and generous husband, and a fine son of whom any parent would be very proud.”

How do you describe Mithan’s legacy for women in India?

Mithan left behind an invaluable legacy for women in the legal profession and beyond. Demolishing patriarchal stereotypes of what a woman can and cannot achieve, particularly in traditionally male-dominated fields, was the cornerstone of her career.

While Mithan was a woman of many firsts, she did not work in silos but mentored scores of other women. Prominent among them was Violet Alva who was a law student at Government Law College, Bombay when Mithan was a professor there. Violet subsequently went on to become the Deputy Home Minister of India and the first female Deputy Chair of the Rajya Sabha (the Upper House of Parliament). Examining the life stories of trailblazing women like Mithan makes us realise that a lot of rights that we, as Indian women, enjoy today, such as the right to vote or work, were achieved on the back of the unwavering efforts of such pioneers.

As a solicitor in Bombay, you work hard as legal advisor at a prominent company, yet you make time for  pro bono work. Tell us about the pro bono organization you work with. 

In addition to the corporate law work I do, I am also a member of iProbono. It is a global organization which connects lawyers with non-profits and social enterprises in need of pro bono legal assistance. Over the past few years of my association with iProbono, my work has involved advising schools, innovations labs, mental health professionals and organisations working for the underprivileged on a number of education, child rights, disabilities and medical laws in India.

Law is a very potent instrument for social change and I believe that in a developing country like India, especially, there is tremendous scope for lawyers to create systems and establish precedents from the ground up.

You’ve said that India has some of the strongest child abuse laws in the world, but these laws aren’t often exercised properly. Can you give an example of how this could be changed?

In 2019, the Economist Intelligence Unit published a report evaluating the response of sixty countries, across the development spectrum, to the scourge of child abuse. Interestingly, India ranked the highest amongst all the surveyed countries in terms of the strength of its legal framework for protecting children from sexual abuse and exploitation. However, awareness of these laws remains low and their implementation remains challenging, given the high rates of child abuse in the country.

Now, child abuse is a very pervasive and complex problem and its eradication needs resolute engagement from various stakeholders, both government and private. However, one of the ways in which organisations interacting with children (like schools, children’s shelters etc.) can mitigate child abuse is by developing effective child protection policies, as an article I’ve recently written demonstrates. Such policies typically contain a blend of preventive and remedial child protection measures. In the absence of such policies, organisations often deal with child abuse incidents arbitrarily and without regard to the law, causing grave prejudice to the interests of children under their care. Through iProbono, we assist various civil society organisations in drafting and implementing child protection policies, to foster a safe and child-friendly environment.

The pandemic has many people working from home. Do you see this is an opportune time for more persons with disabilities (PWDs) to have a chance to enter the Indian workforce? What are the factors that make it difficult for PWDs to work? Is there a national law in existence for enabling disability inclusion in the workplace?

The employment rates of PWDs in the Indian corporate sector are abysmally low barring, of course, a few outliers. A study published by the Business Standard in 2019 noted that PWDs constitute less than 0.5 per cent of employees in India’s top companies. In India, the Rights of PWDs Act, 2016 is a national-level legislation that requires companies to develop equal opportunity policies and create an accessible environment for their employees, but its implementation remains patchy.

Historically, taboos associated with disabilities and low literacy levels have kept a lot of PWDs out of the workforce. Social isolation and a lack of employment opportunities, posed by the Covid-19 crisis, have hit PWDs further.

But, some disability rights activists see a silver lining to this crisis: the pandemic has impelled companies to adopt remote working policies and technologies which certain groups of PWDs have long demanded as reasonable accommodations. Needless to say, it is imperative that such technologies are designed to be accessible to PWDs, to facilitate their meaningful participation in work.  In a 2020 piece I wrote for Business Standard, I’ve argued that there is a strong legal, business and moral case for disability inclusion in the Indian corporate sector, particularly in the light of the pandemic. I think the ILO’s Director-General summarizes the essence of this fittingly: “A disability-inclusive response means a better response for us all.”

Parag Sayta writes a commentary on the Parsis of Bombay on the Brown Pundits blog

I just finished reading Michael Axworthy’s Iran: Empire of the Mind, one of Razib Khan’s recommended reads on Iran. The book serves as a useful primer on Iranian history for novices (such as myself), covering over 3,000 years of history in less than 300 pages. It lacks the literary flair and flourish of Tim Mackintosh-Smith’s magisterial Arabs. I found myself skimming through the latter parts of the book- the Pahlavi era and the subsequent Islamic Revolution- as I am broadly familiar with the events of the modern period.

Pre-Islamic Persia was an advanced and sophisticated civilisation. Axworthy provides a good overview of the Achaemenid, Parthian and Sassanid periods of Iranian history. Ancient Iranians developed a complex and nuanced theology centred around the teachings of the prophet Zoroaster. Zoroastrianism was the predominant religion of the Sassanid Empire, one of the superpowers of the pre-Islamic world. All of this was to change with the arrival of Islam in the seventh century. The armies of Islam burst out of the Arabian Peninsula like a supernova and reduced the Sassanid Empire to dust. The Zoroastrian religion was swept away in this upheaval.

One group of Zoroastrians escaped and sought refuge in Gujarat in Western India. These Zoroastrians are commonly known as the Parsis (from Pars or Persia). The essay below is a personal account of the Parsis of Mumbai. I had written it a decade ago. Reading Axworthy’s book brought some of those sweet memories back. 

The Parsis of Bombay

In the heart of old Bombay, very close to my school, stands an ancient, venerable Parsi establishment: Kyani & Co. Set up 110 years ago and looking every year of it, it is renowned for its bun maska (buttered bread) served with hot, sweet milky tea. Trudging back home from school, I would drop by on many a sultry afternoon, unable to resist the temptation. The bun maska and tea were, of course, always delicious. But equally fascinating for me was the place itself. The interiors looked as if they had never been refurbished. The neatly arranged wooden tables and chairs seemed positively antiquarian. The patrons were an eclectic bunch. There were the old timers occupying their favourite spots, dipping their bun maska in hot tea, some with a newspaper in hand, others even enjoying a quick siesta. Then there were workers from nearby offices who had stepped out for a quick break, chitchatting and sharing office gossip. There was also the constant stream of housewives, there to buy bread and biscuits for their families. And finally there was Mr. Kyani himself. Standing at the counter and overlooking his domain, the septuagenarian proprietor with a hunched back, horn-rimmed spectacles and a Zoroastrian skull cap on his head, seemed to satisfy just about every stereotype of an old Bombay Parsi. For decades, Bombayites have purchased their bread from and had their afternoon tea at tens of such Irani* bakeries that dot the South Bombay landscape.

Kyani & Co.

Baking bread is, of course not the only thing they do well. The Parsis established Bombay’s (and India’s) leading business houses and excelled in a variety of professions. Their dominance of both business and professions is entirely due to their ability to grasp the opportunities that came their way. When the British were building Bombay with the intention of making it one of the major trading centres of their far-flung Empire, the Parsis jumped at the opportunity. Along with their fellow Gujaratis, they migrated in their hordes from their villages in South Gujarat, starting their life in a city that was still being built.  That Bombay came to be recognised as one of the pre-eminent trading and financial centres of the world is down in no small measure due to the entrepreneurialism and business acumen of the Gujaratis. But unlike other Gujaratis who largely stuck to trade and business, the Parsis went a step further. They built relations with the British, learning their language and customs and entered the professions, which they quickly came to dominate.

Making the most of their chances was a trait they forged in adversity several centuries earlier.  Originally inhabitants of Persia (hence the derivative Parsi), they were forced to flee their ancestral homeland following the Islamic conquest of Persia and the subsequent persecution of their faith.  Their ships landed on the coast of South Gujarat. What happened next is the stuff of legend.

The local raja, understandably concerned by such a large alien presence on his soil, decided to convey his anxiety through a demonstration. He took a glass full of milk and added some more to it. Naturally, the milk spilled over. Upon seeing this, the head dastur, the revered spiritual leader of the Parsis stepped forward, again with a glass full of milk. He added sugar to the milk. The fears of the local populace thus assuaged, the Parsis were granted asylum. The story may be apocryphal, but it is highly instructive.

The Parsis have over the centuries, demonstrated their commitment to integration through their deeds. The community is an exemplar of the ideal of assimilation, blending into local society by adopting the local dress code, speaking Gujarati as their mother tongue and not interfering with the religious beliefs of the locals.

When they struck gold in Bombay, they went well beyond the terms of their original promise. In acts of rare, perhaps unmatched munificence, they provided generous endowments which facilitated the construction of public halls, libraries, schools and hospitals, established trusts that provided scholarships to deserving candidates, besides patronising the arts and the sciences. Bombay, the trading town metamorphosed into Bombay, the cosmopolitan city.

Substantial beneficiaries of these charitable deeds were the Parsis themselves. Massive plots of land were purchased in prime locations across south Bombay and houses built and provided to poorer Parsis. These ubiquitous “Parsi colonies” even today provide highly subsided houses to the community in prime real estate, making other Bombayites green with envy.

My fondness for the Parsis is also due to some vivid personal memories. I remember Mrs. Khosravi, my ninth grade class teacher, who made the extra effort and looked out for me at a time when I was an earnest, nervous student, prone to being disheartened at minor events. Somehow, she seemed fully cognizant of the adolescent dilemmas faced by her favourite pupil. When I moved to Bangalore to study law after high school, one of the first friends I made was a Parsi, a fellow Bombay Gujarati. In a class with very few Bombayites and no other Gujarati speakers, we instantly stuck a chord. Our bond was forged by our shared love for our common city and language.

The Parsis are afflicted with an addiction to wonderfully eccentric “hobbies and spare time interests”, a trait George Orwell memorably ascribed to the English. Take my classmate in seventh grade whose abiding passion was for science outside the classroom. During school lunch-breaks when the rest of the boys played games, he would be seen crouching on the ground looking for new insects he could study. He was also creating a scrapbook with details of the top two hundred scientists in the world and their discoveries. Inspired, I decided to emulate him. I learnt more science from preparing that scrapbook than I had in all those years in science class.

Or take my French language private tutor, the idiosyncratic Mr. Shroff, who was obsessed with aircraft technology of World War II. He spent all his spare time and money collecting books and models of World War II aircraft. One of my favourite tricks when I was not in the mood to study was to engage him a conversation on his favourite topic. I would gleefully watch the time tick away as he delivered a scholarly exposition on the technical superiority of the Luftwaffe over the Royal Air Force.

A quick detour around my house in South Bombay revealed the extent of Parsi heritage of my city. I began at the eponymous Parsee Gymkhana along the Marine Drive promenade, its immaculately manicured lawns leading up to the old colonial style clubhouse. Standing cheek by jowl alongside the Hindu, Muslim and Catholic Gymkhanas, it was the practice ground of the Zoroastrian Cricket Club, as they prepared for the famous Bombay Quadrangular cricket tournament during the halcyon days of the Raj.  Turning left near Churchgate, I reached K. Rustom & Co., the ice cream parlour that my grandfather used to frequent during his college days. Its ramshackled appearance belied its enduring popularity.

K. Rustom & Co.

I walked across the picturesque Oval Maidan and past the statue of Sir Dinshaw Wacha, one of the doyens of the Indian National Congress, looking over a game of cricket played by a bunch of boys dressed in spotless lily whites.  The thud of leather on willow sounded as sweet that afternoon as it must have in Sir Wacha’s day.

I sauntered past Bombay House, the headquarters of the Tata Group, towards the Bombay Samachar Building which still houses the offices of the Gujarati language newspaper, the Bombay Samachar. Founded by a Parsi, it is the oldest newspaper in Asia. In close vicinity was Jimmy Boy, the well known Parsi cuisine restaurant. I took a few deep breaths, inhaling the aromatic fragrance of dhansak (a concoction of various lentils, vegetables and spices), my favourite Parsi delicacy.  Further ahead, I reached J.B. Petit High School, one of Bombay’s best schools. Started by an Englishwoman and funded by a Parsi, it was one of the first English medium girl schools in Bombay.  A brisk ten minute walk later, I reached the iconic Taj Mahal Hotel built by Jamsedji Tata, its magnificent façade a symbol of defiance against colonial prejudice. A stroll along Colaba Causeway took me past Cusrow Baug, the serene Parsi housing colony and the Parsi owned Leopold Café, Bombay’s oldest pub, etched in popular memory by Gregory David Roberts’ Shantaram. Over the next few minutes, I came across Bombay’s best know art gallery (the Jehangir Art Gallery) as well as a public library and hospital, all beneficiaries of Parsi philanthropy.

I considered myself relatively well aware of my city’s Parsi inheritance, but was still amazed by the sheer scale of it. Yet, to me, all these impressive landmarks seemed like relics of a bygone era: an age of the Parsis’ absolute dominance of the city’s landscape. The community is suffering from stagnation. The younger generation of Parsis lack the pioneering, buccaneering spirit of their forefathers. They are being overwhelmed by their more ambitious; numerous countrymen who are building the new symbols that define vibrant, post-liberalisation Mumbai. Even the old Irani bakeries are vanishing, taken over by more enterprising owners.

A far graver threat to the community is demographics: the Parsis’ numbers are rapidly dwindling, due to a combination of low birth rates, emigration to Western countries and a strict adherence to endogamy. Experts have warned of a terminal decline, possibly extinction within a few decades. This is the single greatest challenge faced by the Parsis since their flight from Persia.

I reached the final stretch of my walk, stopping outside an agiary (Zoroastrian fire temple). A few old couples who had completed their rituals were sitting in the courtyard, enjoying the afternoon sun. The Kyani bakery was a few blocks from the agiary. I had not visited the place since I passed out of school, almost a decade ago and did not know what had happened of it in the intervening years. I took the final few steps towards the bakery with some trepidation. As I entered, I was relieved to see Mr. Kyani perched upon his counter. The hunch was more pronounced and the face was more weathered and wrinkled, but the glint in the eye was still in place. I smiled. “Kem cho uncle?” I ventured.  He looked at me quizzically. “Su lese deekra (what will you have son)?” he finally asked, in his exaggerated Parsi accent. “Was there a glimmer of recognition?” I wondered. Of course not, after all these years, what were the odds? I was just being delusional. I placed my order and found myself a table.

I dipped my bun maska in the tea and had my first bite. The same great taste! My taste buds tingled in recognition. “Some things cannot, nay, must not change”, I decided. I took a second bite of my bun maska and smiled again, secure in my knowledge that despite the vagaries of time, this tiny corner of my city had remained forever Parsi.

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* The term “Irani” is technically used for the second wave of Zoroastrian immigrants from Persia who largely arrived in the nineteenth century, in contradistinction to “Parsi” which is used for the first wave who arrived a few centuries earlier. Most bakeries are owned by the Iranis. There are some differences in the customs of these two communities, but both these groups are identified as “Parsi” in common parlance. With the passage of time the differences between these groups have reduced. Thus, when I use the term “Parsi” in this article, it refers to all Zoroastrians in India.

Textile designer Ashdeen Z Lilaowala is excited. Reason? The Delhi-based designer, author and curator will be returning to his home city Mumbai with a free exhibition ‘The Breakfast Club’ in the first week of March this year.

He tells us, “Being part of the Parsi community and having grown up in Mumbai, it always brings me immense joy to return to the city.”

Talking about his work Ashdeen says, “The Breakfast Club is a love letter to my growing up years. It is a call to return to the joy and fabulousness of fashion—something we are in dire need of in the present moment. My sentimentality for the past comes alive through charming storytelling and nods to eighties pop culture. It is my ode to the 80s heroine who was a picture of paradox— bold with a touch of whimsy, innocent yet flirtatious, unafraid to experiment and play a little, romantic yet never without her glorious sense of humour.”
Ashdeen is known for his hand-embroidered saris inspired by the Parsi Gara tradition and specialises in crafting contemporary interpretations of centuries-old Oriental and Persian embroidery techniques featuring stylized flora and fauna motifs among other symbols that represent the Zoroastrian reverence to nature.

He says, “Our creations amalgamate traditional Parsi Gara aesthetic with a contemporary look. We offer unique and distinctive bespoke designs to suit individual customer tastes and requirements.” Each timeless piece is designed as a modern heirloom to be treasured and passed down generations.

In the midst of what is seeming like an unending struggle with a global pandemic, this retro-tinged collection reminds us of simpler times, of what’s truly important, and to always cherish those little pleasures.

“YOU MUST DO THE THING YOU THINK YOU CANNOT DO.”

– Eleanor Roosevelt

Celebrating International Women’s Day 2021!

FEZANA joins with the rest of the world this Monday, March 8th, in paying tribute to the selflessness, courage and strength of women in our lives and throughout history, who publicly or privately make the world a better place. We celebrate our mothers, wives, aunts, daughters and sisters, and in particular, we salute the women on our front lines: teachers, nurses, doctors, first responders, service women and glass ceiling breakers.
Hopefully there will come a day when we don’t need to set aside a day, week or month to recognize what we already know: that women add the balance, stability and wisdom required to live the Good life.

#GenderEquality | #SheHer |  #WomensDay2021 | #Empowerment | #Courage | #Strength

Court makes out ‘no case for interference at this stage’ due to her ‘obvious reluctance’ to obtain confirmation that her nominator for BPP election was an active Zoroastrian

The Bombay High Court on Monday refused to grant ad-interim relief to disqualified Bombay Parsi Punchayet (BPP) trusteeship contestant Dr Zuleika Homavazir, who had moved it in February to ascertain why her candidature was disqualified for the March 14 election.

Article by Gaurav Sarkar | Mid-Day

Homavazir’s nomination had been rejected by the BPP on the basis that her proposer, Rustom Nanabhoy Jeejeebhoy, was a Christian though his name appears in the electoral rolls. In order to be a voter or to nominate someone, he/she has to be actively practise Zoroastrianism.

In her plea to the court, Homavazir had raised the question as to whether the defendants i.e. the Parsi Punchayet Funds and five of its trustees had “wrongly rejected” her nomination by disregarding the provisions of Rule 3(e) and Rule 124) of the Scheme of Election under which the only criteria for eligibility for casting a vote is the reflection of the name of the person in the General Register maintained by the defendants 60 days immediately preceding the date of the scheduled trustee election—a condition that  Jeejeebhoy had fulfilled.

Justice AK Menon ruled that given the “factual aspects and the obvious reluctance of the plaintiff to obtain confirmation that Jeejeebhoy continues to profess the Zoroastrian faith… I am of the view that no case is made out for interference at this stage.” Refusing to grant ad-interim relief,  the court ruled that any additional affidavit-in-reply had to be filed within a period of four weeks, and a rejoinder, if any, within four weeks thereafter. Dr Homavazir said, “This is the first time in the history of BPP that two factions have come together to achieve a common goal: prevent me from contesting the election.”

“The trust (BPP) had nothing against Dr Homavazir. We received some complaints that Dr Homavazir’s proposer had embraced another religion. The trustees took all steps to ensure fairplay and transparency. We took legal opinion and wrote multiple letters to both the candidate and the proposer. We asked for a simple declaration or an affidavit which they could not and did not give,” said Kersi Randeria, BPP trustee.

In India, an ancient religion known as Zoroastrianism is under threat.

There are fewer than 60,000 believers and their numbers are projected to fall further.

The UN says this is “alarming”, and warns of an “extinction in the not too distant future”.

The BBC’s global religion reporter Sodaba Haidare takes a look at whether matchmaking Zoroastrian couples, and helping them to have more children, can help keep this 3000-year-old religion alive in India.

Produced and directed by: Joanne Whalley

Camera: Saptarshi Roy

Graphic Design: Peter Caires

Executive Producer: Claire Williams