Sunday Midday chronicles heartwarming Navroze traditions in Mumbai

Navroze, an ancient festival celebrating the spring equinox is the perfect time to share stories and culture with the next generation. Sunday mid day captures heartwarming moments between seniors and the next generation

Noshir Nadirshah Sanjana with granddaughter Gisele Suri at his residence

Article by Nasrin Modak Siddiqi |Mid Day

Growing up between Simla, Mumbai and Ahmedabad, on Navroze, 82-year-old author Noshir Sanjana’s father, Nadirshah, would carefully place a record on the turntable, and the room would fill with the crackly voices of legends. “We’d sing along, getting the words hilariously wrong and with complete confidence,” he laughs. “Those evenings stretched forever, filled with laughter, great food, and love spilling over a crowded family table. It’s that feeling that made every Navroze the sweetest,” he says, adding, “My mum and aunts’ gentle laughter echoed above the music, and we would gather around for impromptu dance lessons—our steps clumsy but full of joy.

A spread of Noshir Sanjana’s favourite Parsi sweets including chikat halva, bread pudding, malai khaja, mawa ni boi, ravo, sev,  sutarfeni, and gaz. Pics/Anurag Ahire

Sometimes, my mum, Jala, would pull out old family albums, whispering tales behind each faded photograph while I listened with rapt attention cuddled between my elder brother Rusi and sister, Lily. My uncles’ voices warm with laughter and perhaps a little too much beer, debated everything from cricket to politics. The room pulsed with life. That feeling of belonging, of being surrounded by the people who knew me best, amidst food, music and love was pure sweetness.”

Kebab pilaf

Sanjana, who wrote Flying High—A Parsi Life of Gratitude, is fond of his 10-year-old granddaughter Gisele, with whom he shares all meals. Parsi-Irani food goes way beyond patra ni macchi, dhansak and berry pulao that have come to be synonymous with the community, as Sanjana shares, “There’s Bharuchi akuri, scrambled eggs with nuts and spices; gaur nu eedu, softly scrambled eggs with jaggery, that sounds strange but is so delicious; gaz, a nougat, with delicate flavours of rose and pistachio, like a taste of a Persian garden. Mawa ni boi, a fish-shaped sweet for good luck, always brings joy.

Beheram and Dinmeher Bunshah enjoy the company of their 10-year-old granddaughter Zoe Anklesaria who lives next door. The sixth-grader often gets in the kitchen with her grandmother, baking cakes, biscuits, shortbread, brownies and roulades

Orsu, the dry, salty balls of camel milk cheese, remind me of my grandfather’s tales of camel caravans crossing the desert. Our Parsi ravo: made by my mum, lovingly slow-stirred with the comforting aromas of charoli and almonds toasted in pure ghee. No Parsi celebration is complete without sutarfeni and those big jalebis from D. Damodar at Dadar. Irani kebabs and fluffy, chewy Iranian naan are a reminder of our ancient roots. Oash with mutton, a hearty soup, created by Iranian ladies to put together the leftovers is now a rare gourmet treat. Dhandar and kolmi no patio for lunch, washed down with beer makes for the perfect Parsi meal—a balance of sweet, sour, and spicy.”

Sanjana wants his grandchildren Kezia, Kayan and Gisele to know what makes their culture special is the warmth of family, the fun festivals, and the delicious flavours of food. “I  want them to understand that Navroze is truly about sharing stories, being close to each other, making good memories, being kind, helping others, and always doing what’s right. I hope they learn all this and carry it in their hearts, just like Gisele does with her sweet, compassionate nature.”

Badam pak and kesari rawa

Sanjana says that even as the world gets busier, that feeling of togetherness never goes away. “Sometimes, I miss how simple things used to be. We didn’t have much, but we had time for each other. If I could, I’d bring back those long days when all that mattered was laughing and sharing stories with family under one roof, and there was nothing to distract us. We didn’t need much, just the stories, the laughter, and the feeling of a close family. That’s what I miss the most,” he adds.

Gajar mewa nu achar

At Dadar Parsi Colony, couple Beheram and Dinmeher Bunshah are waiting for their 10-year-old granddaughter, Zoe Anklesaria, to return from vacation and join them for lunch. “School starts tomorrow,” says Dinmeher, who has laid out a spread of atheli murghi with potatoes and boiled egg, topli paneer, mutton ras chawal, bhida per eedu, Bharuchi akuri, vengna ni katri (brinjal fry) and kohra ni katri (pumpkin fry). “Parsis and Iranians are known for eating meat, but we love our veggies too,” she tells us. Dinmeher introduces us to the joys of simple meals with their family’s favourite being simple yellow dal and rice or the dhan dar patio. “We can have it daily. For festivals, we have an elaborate spread with palao dal,” she shares.

Regaling us with stories of the origin of Navroze, Beheram tells us that for him, it means the community getting together and having a jolly time. Period. “We love to enjoy. Iranians keep the Navroze table with 56 items for  friends and relatives to enjoy. We see our faces in the mirror, sprinkle rosewater, and savour the food.” For Navroze, Iranians display various symbolic items on a large table with at least seven items whose names start with the Persian letter that looks similar to an ‘s’. Each item carries a meaning; for instance, coins for wealth, germinated wheat for fertility, etc.

Gulbanoo P Irani and her 10-year-old granddaughter often bond over food as Bapai (paternal granny) makes Ava’s favourite food. The 2.5-year-old grandson, Zal loves to share a walk with the two in their apartment garden. Pic/Anurag Ahire

Dinmeher who hails from Kanpur, fondly remembers the community jashans held in the city as a part of their festive celebrations at the Byramji Nowroji Javeri Dar-e-Meher agiary that was established in 1930 and is the only functioning agiary in Uttar Pradesh. “We would greet each other, share the malida, and have a good time. That doesn’t happen here unless you get a personal jashan done. The Dasturji says a prayer and the fire is lit, followed by hearty meals.”

Oash-e-berenj

Behram tells us that the 41st Jamshedi Navroze gambhar will be held at the Dadar Parsi Colony Gymkhana grounds this year. “Started by Mithoo Jimi Jesia of the Mancherji Edalji Joshi Memorial Trust, the evening comprises felicitating the community and feasting with entertainment and performances by our community’s young talent, followed by dinner. I come from a lower middle-class family, so before this, only Irani homes celebrated Jamshedi Navroze or new year, but this gambhar makes it inclusive for all. There are the learning centers [formerly called madressas], which have been training Zoroastrian priests. There, we have Ramiyar Karanjia, who takes classes for small children, teaching them about Zoroastrianism through stories and prayers and readying them for their Navjote [thread ceremony],” he informs.

Ghormeh sabzi

For 63-year-old Dahanu resident, Gulbanoo P Irani,  Navroze, which marks the first day of Spring in the Northern hemisphere and is celebrated on the day of the astronomical vernal equinox, which usually occurs on March 21, is all about shedding off the past and beginning afresh. “Just like spring—new leaves and flowers blooming everywhere,” She tells Sunday mid-day, adding, “In my maternal home in Pune, we did not celebrate much. But after my marriage, I saw my first Navroze table, full of sweets, dry fruits and salads. Everything was new. We visit our family and friends and greet and spread joy on this occasion. At night, we get together and eat from the laid-out tables.”

Halvo shakkar

In the past, it was tradition for grandparents to give their grandchildren gold and silver coins; now, money is given in an envelope that young and adults eagerly  look forward to. Her favourite Iranian dishes which she loves to make for her grandkids Ava and Zal, are oash-e-meer, a hearty bean, lentil and noodle soup and oshe-e-berenj and sirog, a deep-fried flatbread with pista-elachi-sugar. “We make it on good occasions and distribute it to our family and friends. My children have been helping me lay my table, pray, etc., and I hope my grandchildren also follow and continue this tradition and the festival’s spirit remains unchanged.”

Rather than fading from relevance, the values of this ancient festival – from taking a yearly reset to connecting with nature in a precarious time – are now more important than ever.

Article By Louisa Shafia | BBC

Nowruz is an occasion for honouring family, and people visit one another and feast together (Credit: GeckoPhotos/Getty Images)

It’s the season of Nowruz, the annual 13-day festival that marks the start of spring, and millions of people all over the world with roots in the former Persian Empire are celebrating.

Persia, anchored in modern-day Iran, once stretched from Afghanistan and Pakistan in the east to Egypt and the Balkan Peninsula in the west, and it left behind an enduring cultural legacy that includes this vibrant celebration. Despite Nowruz dating back 3,500 years, celebrants believe that rather than fading from relevance, the lessons of Nowruz – from taking a yearly reset to valuing family to connecting with nature in a precarious time – are now more important than ever.

Nowruz was originally a Zoroastrianism holiday, part of the ancient monotheistic religion founded by the prophet Zoroaster in approximately 500 BCE. In the time of the Persian Empire (roughly 559-331 BCE), the rulers of all of the subject countries were summoned at Nowruz to bring gifts and pay homage to the king at Persepolis, the ruins of which remain in the Iranian city of Shiraz. In this way, the kings could show the ancestors that they were prospering, something that remains an important aspect of the holiday.

Zoroastrianism remained the official state religion of the Persian Empire for centuries until the Arab conquest around 632 CE, after which it became Muslim. But Nowruz was firmly established, and even under Islamic rule it remained, evolving over time into a secular holiday celebrated by all faiths, including Christians, Jews and Muslims. Today, Iran, along with Afghanistan, Azerbaijan, India, Pakistan, Turkey, Uzbekistan and other countries once under Persian influence, observe Nowruz, as well as diaspora communities in North America, Europe and elsewhere around the world.

Vera Chitaeva/Getty Images

People sprout lentils and wheat during the weeks before Nowruz, mirroring the shoots and buds emerging outside (Credit: Vera Chitaeva/Getty Images)

As these traditions have spread, Nowruz has been welcomed into the Western mainstream. Last year, Disney released an animation of Mickey Mouse explaining Nowruz. Major American publications regularly feature Nowruz food stories and recipes. And the travelling dance party Disco Tehran, fuelled by its popularity in Los Angeles and New York, will hold Nowruz bashes this year in Berlin, Paris and London.

Nowruz, which means “new day” in Persian, starts at the moment of the spring equinox when the sun passes over the equator on its way north. This year, it kicks off on 20 March at 06:36 in Tehran and 03:06 in London, and on 19 March at 23:06 in New York.

Nowruz customs around the world have unique traits. In Afghanistan, people eat a dessert made of seven different dried fruits and nuts soaked in syrup called mewa. In Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, vessels are placed around the house and filled with water before the clock strikes the new year. And in Afghanistan, riders on horseback play the national sport buzkashi, similar to polo but using the body of a goat instead of a ball.

It is not just a celebration of the new year; it serves as the bond that brings all Iranians together

For Haleh Esfandiari, founding director of the Middle East Program at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars in Washington DC, it’s this welcoming, inclusive nature of the holiday that has made Nowruz so enduring, “It is not just a celebration of the new year; it serves as the bond that brings all Iranians together – precisely because it is a national, not a religious, celebration. Iranians of diverse religions and ethnic and tribal identities all celebrate Nowruz,” she said.

Fire and fireworks are an important part of the Nowruz celebrations (Credit: Nima Karimi/Getty Images)

Symbolically, Nowruz is about rebirth and new beginnings. While the holiday of Nowruz kicks off at the equinox, preparations begin weeks before. In order to enter the new year on the right foot, it’s important to have both a spotless home and a clear conscience.

Where to celebrate Nowruz

Around the world, cities with large Iranian and diaspora Persian communities including Dubai, Toronto, London, New York and Los Angeles all have options for celebrating and learning about the holiday. For example:

· Disco Tehran will hold dance parties in Berlin, New York, Los Angeles, London and Paris beginning on 22 March.

· Head to Parramatta in Sydney for a day of family-friendly Nowruz activities on 17 March.

· London’s Lauderdale House is hosting a month-long festival for Nowruz with exhibitions, talks and music.

The first step is cleaning the home from top to bottom, a practice called khoone takoone, which translates to “shaking the house” in Persian. It’s also important to resolve outstanding grudges by making amends to the wronged party with a gift of ajeel, a mix of dried fruit and nuts. It’s customary to sprout lentils and wheat during the weeks prior, mirroring the shoots and buds emerging outside. Then, on the Wednesday before Nowruz, everyone from children to grandparents jumps over a bonfire. This is to purge any negativity from the past year.

With its hopeful message of new beginnings, Nowruz offers a valuable opportunity to recharge. The British cookbook author and broadcaster Yasmin Khan, whose mother is from Iran, sees it as the start of her year. “I gain a lot of strength from the rituals and symbolism of the spring cleaning, the growing of the sprouts, jumping over fires,” she said. “They give me a sense of grounding, connecting me to my ancestral culture and also to the seasons and the elements.”

Nowruz is an occasion for honouring family, both ancestors and the living, and people visit one another and feast together. For Anna Fahr, an Iranian Canadian filmmaker, the social connection is the most important part of Nowruz, something that is especially important after the Covid pandemic. “I like to talk with people. It’s a nice reason to reconnect with my relatives,” she said. “With friends in other places we do an online fire jump. We’ll each set up candles in our apartments and all jump over them together. It’s very much about communal gatherings. Getting together as family and friends.”

On the final day of Nowruz, it’s customary to pack a picnic, head into the countryside and toss the lentil and wheat sprouts into moving water, signalling a break with the previous year. It’s a day to spend time appreciating the outdoors after the long winter. For Persis Karim, director of the Center for Iranian Diaspora Studies at San Francisco State University, Nowruz is a reminder of our symbiotic relationship with the natural world. “The transition of the seasons at the same time each year has been imprinted in us through this ritualised holiday,” she said.

On the 13th day of Nowruz, it’s customary for everyone to spend time away from their home in the open air (Credit: Reza Estakhrian/Getty Images)

However, due to climate change, the way that people have observed Nowruz for thousands of years is being altered, and this undeniable evidence could be a catalyst for people to pay attention. “Everywhere you look there are rising temperatures, lack of water, the depletion of natural species,” Karim said. “The blossoms are coming out a lot earlier. Nowruz is now in some ways under threat, and it could be linked to an understanding about the vulnerability of our planet and our participation in that vulnerability.”

Nowruz is now in some ways under threat, and it could be linked to an understanding about the vulnerability of our planet and our participation in that vulnerability

Perhaps what Nowruz celebrants value the most is the life-affirming quality of the holiday rituals, at a time when issues like climate change, world politics and social isolation are causes for anxiety. For Rebecca Rahimi, a New York-based television producer, Nowruz is an excuse to slow down and simply enjoy life. “It’s the first day of spring, there’s sunlight, we’re at one with the Earth. You’re supposed to go to the park and picnic. There’s a sense of freedom,” she explained.

How a Zoroastrian celebration of the Persian New Year grew into a broad symbol of cultural resilience and political resistance

Children dance at a Nowruz celebration in Lafayette, Colorado

Maggie Phillips | Tablet

Mark Leffingwell/Digital First Media/Boulder Daily Camera via Getty Images

Tablet talks about Judaism a lot, but sometimes we like to change the subject. Maggie Phillips covers religious communities across the U.S.—from Christians to Muslims, Hindus to Baha’i, Jehovah’s Witnesses to pagans—to find out what they’re talking about.

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On March 19 at exactly 11:06 p.m., spring will begin. Along with over 300 million people around the world, Iranian Americans will count down to this precise moment, which marks the start of Nowruz, the Persian New Year. Thirteen days of visiting friends and exchanging gifts will commence to celebrate the vernal equinox, when the Earth is exactly halfway around the sun. Celebrants will set a table with seven items, in accordance with tradition. While every family’s table, called a haft seen, is different, the unifying theme is words beginning with the letter “S,” or seen in the Persian alphabet—a sweet pudding, garlic, a piece of fruit, sumac, olives, and vinegar. The seventh item, sabzeh, or lentil sprouts, are taken on the final day of Nowruz to the nearest running body of water. Young and old alike commend them to the stream with wishes for the year to come.

“Nowruz is like Christmas,” said Mitra Marvasti-Sitterly, who shared her Connecticut-based family’s Nowruz traditions with me in a phone interview. She explained that like Christmas, it has religious roots, but it is widely celebrated as a secular cultural holiday. For example, during Nowruz, a book of wisdom is also placed on the haft seen alongside the food. Sometimes it is a religious book—a Quran or even a Torah, for Persian Jews who also celebrate Nowruz—but not always. For Marvasti-Sitterly’s nonreligious family, it will be a book of poetry by the revered Persian poet Hafez.

More than a year into a sustained protest movement against Ayatollah Khamenei’s regime, Iran is once again making headlines as Iranian-backed militias target U.S. military assets. This year in particular, Nowruz serves as a powerful emblem of the ancient cultural history that both inspires Persian Americans (“Persian” and “Iranian” may be used interchangeably), and links them to the resistance movement in their country of origin.

Although prevalent throughout the Islamic world, and especially closely associated with Iran, Nowruz is not a Muslim holiday. It likely began as a pagan observance, commemorating the mythical Persian King Jamshid, a sort of Persian Prometheus who was said to have ascended to heaven on a brilliant, bejeweled throne. But Nowruz also has origins in the contemporary religious faith of Zoroastrianism, a pre-Islamic Persian faith that now constitutes a minority within its native Iran, having maybe only 125,000 adherents worldwide, according to some estimates.

Zoroastrianism’s founder, Zarathustra (Zoroaster in Greek), lived roughly half a millennium before the first Persian Empire of the sixth through fourth century BCE. According to Zoroastrian belief, he had been a priest in the old polytheistic religion, whose deities bore close similarities to those found in the Rig Veda. He introduced a monotheistic faith after a purported vision at around age 30, which revealed to him a single deity, Ahura Mazda, or “the wise lord.” Zarathustra advocated for radical religious reforms, which focused on an egalitarian concept of humanity, in which a final, divine judgment flattened distinctions between all people. According to legend, Zoroastrianism gained prevalence in Persia after it was adopted by the reigning monarch of Zarathustra’s time.

Its cosmology was not dualistic—spiritual and physical were not separate distinct spheres, but inextricably linked. The six aspects of Ahura Mazda’s divine nature each had a corresponding physical representation. Good governance, for example, became associated with the sky. The earth, representative of piety, was looked over by the sky. Water, a manifestation of purity, was associated with vegetation, which was associated with immortality. Beneficent animals represented the well-tended mind, and man was the physical manifestation of Ahura Mazda’s own spirit. Truth, the paramount value of Zoroastrianism, was represented by fire. Fire became Zoroastrianism’s key symbol; their houses of worship are called fire temples. In opposition to the one god was a demon, called only “The Lie” by Zarathustra. The Lie was a negation of Ahura Mazda’s absolute goodness, which sought to counteract the Truth he embodied.

It was religion as an ethical framework headed toward a decisive endpoint. This eschatology required humankind to choose between good and evil, and the eternal consequences of either reward or punishment after death. We are so used to this understanding of religion today that it is almost taken for granted. This schema was almost wholly unprecedented at the time, though. And many scholars argue that Zoroastrianism influenced not only ancient Greek philosophy, but Jewish, Christian, and Islamic theology.

Twitter (also known as X) had some fun last month, when results from a 2020 Dutch study on religious attitudes in Iran made the rounds. The chart showed Zoroastrianism nearly tying with atheism in the country (both around 8%). “ZORASTRIAN REVIVAL TIME!!!” economist Noah Smith tweeted. Others shared the chart, fantasizing about the romance of a reemergent Persian Empire.

Zoroastrianism did in fact dominate through a few Persian imperial dynasties. Indeed, the famed site of Persepolis, built under the Achaemenid Empire (the empire of Cyrus the Great, Darius, and Xerxes of Persian War fame), is believed to have been built particularly for the celebration of Nowruz. Persia became Muslim after the Arab conquest in the mid-seventh century CE, and Iranians have been predominantly Shia Muslim since Persia was invaded by the Safavid dynasty in the 16th century. While there are various shades of nuance even within the Sunni-Shia divide, the two sects’ primary difference stems from a disagreement over which descendants of the Prophet Muhammad represented an authentic continuity of Islamic leadership.

In the 2020 Dutch survey, barely one-third of respondents described themselves as Shia. It was conducted by an independent nonprofit research outfit, the Group for Analyzing and Measuring Attitudes in Iran (GAMAAN). Their methodology has some admitted difficulties. The Iranian government’s authoritarian nature means that their subjects are recruited online, through social media and existing social networks, and they self-report their own demographic information. GAMAAN contends that by exploiting the widespread use of VPN technology in Iran and the strategic use of “seeds” (recruits chosen to recruit more samples), they have been able to obtain genuine, representative samples. They weight their survey results against those on noncontroversial topics like income and education status, as well as results from their own previous surveys. Accordingly, GAMAAN maintain that they have been able to obtain usable, representative samples. If nothing else, the results of their surveys on Iranian social attitudes, conducted again in 2022 and 2023, consistently show a plurality of Iranians self-identifying as Shia. This result forms a stark contrast to phone and in-person surveys of Iranian religious attitudes, which tend to show nearly 100% of respondents identifying as Muslim.

The ‘haft seen,’ or traditional table setting for Nowruz, is set up in the home of a family in Irvine, California. The table includes seven items all starting with the letter ‘S,’ or ‘seen’ in the Persian alphabet.

Leonard Ortiz/Digital First Media/Orange County Register via Getty Image

The 2022 and 2023 GAMAAN surveys indicated smaller numbers of Iranians identifying as Zoroastrian than the nearly 8% in 2020. But that initial response inspired GAMAAN researchers to coin the term “Survey Zoroastrianism,” or a symbolic self-expression of resistance. “To self-identify as Zoroastrian is to say one is not who the state wants one to be,” they wrote in an article on the phenomenon.

Various examples from recent years, both inside and outside of Iran, suggest the enduring symbolic power of the country’s pre-Islamic past for Persians. The first took place in October 2016, when thousands of Iranians protested the fundamentalist Islamic government at the tomb of Cyrus the Great on “Cyrus the Great Day,” the anniversary of his death. Subsequently, the Iranian government began taking steps around the unofficial holiday to keep crowds away from the site. In January of last year, anti-hijab protesters appropriated Sadeh, a Zoroastrian festival marking the 50 days until Nowruz, to signal their cause. Bonfires had always been a hallmark of the holiday, given fire’s centrality to Zoroastrian beliefs. But during last year’s Sadeh celebrations, they became a symbol of anti-regime resistance.

This past October, right around Cyrus the Great Day, the son of the overthrown shah of Iran was present at the unveiling of a statue of Cyrus the Great in Atlanta. The statue celebrates Cyrus’ role as the first propagator of a declaration of human rights, an idea first put forward by the shah himself in 1968. Some scholars dispute the anachronism of projecting disinterested humanism onto an edict, attributed to Cyrus, which appears on the so-called “Cyrus Cylinder.” It is true, however, that the cuneiform writing on the sixth-century BCE cylinder, which proclaims Cyrus’ philosophy of imperial statecraft, includes a commitment to rebuild other faiths’ shrines and temples (which would include, famously, the one in Jerusalem). Historians debate whether Cyrus was Zoroastrian, and the cylinder’s writings contain no references to Ahura Mazda. However, his edict has been claimed by Zoroastrians as “a record of Cyrus’s adherence to the Zoroastrian creed of ‘good thought, good works, and good deeds.’”

Zoroastrianism is still practiced as a religious faith, both in Iran and elsewhere. But its power as a pre-Islamic, pre-Arab symbol began in the 19th century by Persian nationalists living outside of Iran. A 2023 GAMAAN article explaining “Survey Zoroastrianism” describes this movement as one of “dislocative nationalism.” It was “a politics of nostalgia,” providing “a vision of the future” by taking Persian peoplehood out of its geographic and temporal situation as just one Muslim country among many. Glorifying Persia’s Zoroastrian past imbued it with a spiritual exceptionalism and sense of destiny.

This year, in particular, Nowruz serves as a powerful emblem of the ancient cultural history that both inspires Persian Americans, and links them to the resistance movement in their country of origin.

This sense of Zorastrianism as a Persian national identifier is not merely internal. It has been adopted as a slur in the wider Sunni Arab world, where majus (or magi, a historical name for Zoroastrianism) implies Shiism is not authentic Islam.

Dislocative nationalism was not born from a particularly informed or religiously sincere consideration of Zoroastrianism, however. At times, it has served different purposes, appropriated to support either anti-Sunni or simply anti-Islamic causes. Iranian intellectuals were reviving Zoroastrian motifs at roughly the same time that European countries were developing romantic senses of nationhood and peoplehood for themselves, as well. The revival was, per the GAMAAN article, “a product of learned literary pseudohistorical imagination.” The interest in Zoroastrianism as a stand-in for a great Persian past persisted up until 1971, when the shah of Iran threw himself a huge party at Persepolis to commemorate two-and-a-half millennia of monarchy. There was no accompanying mass conversion to Zoroastrianism, but certain practices survived after the 1979 revolution: prayers taking place around a sacred fire, wedding ceremonies referring to God in pre-Islamic terms, and even in the diaspora, and decorating homes with the Zoroastrian motto “good thoughts, good words, good deeds.” People also still wear Faravahar necklaces, depicting a winged figure, and various symbolic elements representing the “thoughts, words, deeds” ethos; the ad copy for this Faravahar necklace says it is “one of the best-known symbols of ancient Persia and is often associated with Zoroastrianism,” noting that it “has become a secular national symbol, rather than a religious symbol.”

“Within the community, there is a clear understanding (and sometimes jokes) that one gift or a benefit of the Islamic Republic is that it has rid Iranians (generally those not part of religious minorities) of an inclination for or toward religion,” said Shannon Kuehn of the Public Affairs Alliance of Iranian Americans, a nonprofit Persian interest group. “You see this in the turn to reading poetry, references to the Shahnameh [the epic historic poem of Persian history] in protests and in everyday life, the wearing of the Faravahar as jewelry as well as getting tattoos of it, among other things. While the Faravahar has Zoroastrian roots, like Nowruz, it, too, has become cultural and secular in nature. It is often used to signify Iran’s former glory, pre-revolution, and this usage has become even more palpable since the ‘Woman, Life, Freedom’ [the anti-hijab protests] movement began.”

Indeed, GAMAAN observes that the self-identified Zoroastrians in its 2023 survey behaved a lot like the self-professed “nones.” They didn’t engage in formal religious practices or beliefs, and shared their disagreement with Iran’s compulsory hijab policy. The GAMAAN researchers liken these survey Zoroastrians to the over half-million survey respondents in the Anglophone world who described their religion as “Jedi” in a 2001 census. The respondents likely had little awareness that there are in fact networks of people who adhere to an ethical code derived from the Jedi knights in Star Wars. Rather, they were interested in registering their answers as a form of “soft protest“ against organized religion.

Although Marvasti-Sitterly assured me that her dad is still “very much in the picture” as a “background gopher and sous chef,” when she spoke of Nowruz, she spoke mostly of female relatives, of her mother and grandmother. Her mother left Iran when she was 14, with Marvasti-Sitterly’s grandmother. For her mother, Marvasti-Sitterly said, the holiday is linked with memories of her childhood in Iran. Although she remembers her mother being sad some years, Marvasti-Sitterly said, above all, she has seen Nowruz as an opportunity to share her culture with her daughter. And for Marvasti-Sitterly, it has been an opportunity to celebrate and share her culture with others, by inviting them to family celebrations.

“If you’re writing about the diaspora,” said GAMAAN researcher Pooyan Tamaan Arab in an email to Tablet, “it is connected to what is happening inside the country, especially in the past years that the Persian public sphere became increasingly transnational due to increased Internet penetration and other factors such as higher literacy (also in English).”

Marvasti-Sitterly describes her connection to the women’s rights protests in Iran as “absolutely massive,” a feeling closer akin to pride: “The fact that it’s woman-driven is an even more unbelievable thing. I just think it shows the strength of a Persian woman.”

She said she sees younger generations like hers continuing Nowruz traditions in “some shape or form.” Kuehn also said that there are some differences between the way younger and older generations observe (flashier additions like fireworks and lighting are a recent addition, she said). In Iran, young people are not simply custodians of tradition. They have also been leading the charge in opposing Iran’s theocratic regime. Whether it’s boycotting a recent election (resulting in record-low turnout), burning hijabs, or “turban-tossing“ the headwear of Shia clerics, youth have been at the forefront.

Harking back to pre-Islamic, Zoroastrian traditions is one form of popular symbolic protest. But recently, responses to the repressive theocracy that has governed since 1979 have yielded alignments that may surprise outside observers. News reports have described non-Christian Iranians increasingly celebrating Christmas on the date observed by Western Christians (not the Jan. 6 date observed by the Orthodox Christian minority who live in Iran). Just this past Dec. 25, young Iranians thronged to a Christian church in the city of Ifsahar to celebrate (the Armenian Orthodox Church was closed). And in October, just days after the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians on Oct. 7, 2023, soccer fans in Tehran chanted their objection to the display of Palestinian flags in the stadium. Among the Iranian diaspora in the United States, sympathy for Hamas tends to be limited, and some members even openly support Israel (Iran’s exiled crown princess, Yasmine Pahlavi, attended the pro-Israel march in Washington, D.C., last November).

Iran’s Jewish population goes back to the Babylonian exile, and today’s Iran is the historical backdrop for the events commemorated in the spring holiday of Purim. Indeed, the overlap between Jewish spring holidays and Nowruz meant that preparations for the spring holiday could often blend with those for Passover for Jews in Iran. Persian Jews began moving to the Holy Land in the 19th century in response to waves of persecution at home. But at the time of Israel’s founding, the shah of Iran was supportive: He recognized the Jewish state in 1950 and, pre-revolution, Israel was a popular destination for Iranian intellectuals. Today, estimates of the Jewish population in Iran are around 8,000, or just under 10% of what it was before the revolution.

Most Zoroastrians have left Iran, too. Today, most can be found in India, where they are known as Parsis. The Parsi community celebrates Nowruz twice annually: once in March, with the rest of the Persian diaspora, and again around August, when it falls according to the Zoroastrian religious calendar. Zoroastrian celebrations look much the same as those who celebrate it as a cultural holiday, with new clothes, rigorous housecleaning, and private celebrations with friends and family. But they will also include a visit to the Zoroastrian house of worship, the Fire Temple, to pray. North America is also home to a significant number of Zoroastrians. Today, around 30,000 Zoroastrians live in the U.S., where they worry about the future of their “microscopically small“ faith.

Population estimates for all people of Iranian descent in the U.S. number around half a million. They are concentrated in a few areas: California, the New York metro area, and in and around Washington, D.C. But Marvasti-Sitterly described her experience in Connecticut as quite different from the flashy West Coast Persian American experience depicted on Shahs of Sunset, the long-running reality TV show. Unlike the idle rich kids, real estate agents, and nightclub owners the show depicts, her milieu was engineers, academics, and doctors. “The Iranian community [in the Northeast] is very different than the one that’s in Los Angeles,” she said, “because there’s such a larger population. You can definitely find a community here, but I think it’s a community that’s been built on like a couple of families that are out here, and then like just somehow found friends in the process of it.” It’s a process that may be repeating itself elsewhere in the U.S. today. Younger, more recent waves of first-generation Iranians are increasingly heading to the South and Midwest.

“We all hope for peace and the end to suffering in Iran (and elsewhere),” Kuehn said in her email. “In jumping over the fire during Chaharshanbe Suri, a festival that takes place at the beginning of Nowruz, the person says something akin to ‘zardi-ye man az toh, sorkhi-ye toh az man,’ which means ‘take away my yellow, give me your red.’ It basically means, ‘take away my weakness and give me your strength.’”

Then, echoing Marvasti-Sitterly, she said the release of sprouts into flowing water on Nowruz’s last day represents a form of purification. “This symbolizes new beginnings, with the hope that the act will cleanse the negative energy from our lives and the new year will bring goodness and light.”

Nowruz is a holiday that has survived for millennia, through multiple regime changes. It has taken on different meanings at different times. Today, for Iranians and those of Iranian descent around the world, it symbolizes resilience.

“I think the culture is just very strong,” said Marvasti-Sitterly, “and it’s just trying to come back in the best way possible in a new way. As it always does.”

This story is part of a series Tablet is publishing to promote religious literacy across different religious communities, supported by a grant from the Arthur Vining Davis Foundations.

ZOROVERSE Podcasts returns after a hiatus of nearly 4 years. Season 2 is speaheaded by Meherwan Patel of Karachi, Pakistan and currently studying in Singapore.

In the first episode he interviews Fravash Chothia of Toronto, Canada.

The interview happens amidst the background of the Return To Roots Program that they both participated in, during the 7th RTR Trip in December 2023.

In the first episode of Season 2, Zoroverse features Fravash Chothia, an active youth leader at the Zoroastrian Society of Ontario (ZSO) in Toronto, Canada. Fravash is a strong advocate for entrepreneurship and community service. The episode begins with Meherwan introducing Fravash and continues with three segments: first, a quick description and summary of Return to Roots (RTR) Day 2; second, descriptions of Fravash’s involvement at the ZSO, his entrepreneurial ventures, and his views and advice on community building and leadership at the ZSO and beyond; third, a few interesting takes through the “72 Questions”.

RTR Day 2 emerged as means to explore Zoroastrian philosophy, anthropology, and entrepreneurship for the attendees. One of the most interesting parts of Day 2 of the Zoroastrian Return to Roots trip in Mumbai was a lecture on Zoroastrian Food Anthropology hosted at the Rippon Club in Mumbai. Learn more about how the simple and everyday can provide basis to analysis complex social phenomena. In the core section of the podcast, we learn more about Fravash’s approach to community-focuses entrepreneurship. He presents how business ventures and community building ventures can go hand in hand by giving priority to fostering unity and enacting positive change.

Learn more about the principles, mindset, and a few key strategies that Fravash champions as a youth leader in Toronto through this episode. In the final segment, “72 Questions”, Fravash answers the following questions: “In three sentences describe the primary message of Zarathustra”; “ How do you summarize Zoroastrianism to your friends and colleagues?”; “How does being as a Zoroastrian fit into your other social and personal identities?” By exploring both Zoroastrian traditions and Fravash Chothia’s entrepreneurial spirit, this episode of Zoroverse offers how purpose and innovation can intersect within a community. Whether you’re interested in Zoroastrian beliefs or simply seeking inspiration for positive change, this episode provides valuable insights for personal and communal growth.

Check out Season 2, Episode 1: Community Building and Entrepreneurship in Toronto ft. Fravash Chothia on Youtube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYKKEewchRA

The acclaimed chef and owner of Houston’s go-to Indo-Pak restaurant is putting retirement on the backburner.

Kaiser Lashkari’s name for his Hillcroft Avenue restaurant was absolutely a choice. Himalaya brazenly evokes the 1,500-mile-long range of mountains that stretch across South Asia. “The height of taste,” as Lashkari would say.

Himalaya’s heights seem as tall as those mountains: a James Beard Foundation award semifinalist nomination, a feature on Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown and multiple placements on Houston Chronicle food critic Alison Cook’s Top 100 list. But as the Indo-Pak restaurant celebrates 20 years, the summits feel secondary to the climb, especially as Lashkari attempts to launch a culinary school that will take him away from his renowned establishment.

By John-Henry Perera | Houston Chronicle

Himalaya restaurant chef-owner Kaiser Lashkari in 2017. Lashkari is one of the Houston food scene’s most notable chefs.

Michael Ciaglo, Staff / Houston Chronicle

Himalaya: An odyssey beyond 20 years

Lashkari immigrated to the U.S. from Karachi, Pakistan, more than four decades ago. Hailing from a lower-middle-class family, his parents had hoped he would become a doctor. But then he got bit by the culinary bug.

“I was two years short of being a medical doctor when I told my parents my passion was cooking,” Lashkari said. “They thought I had gone crazy because in the early ’80s, anyone who went to medical school had the best marriage prospects. My parents said I was throwing away my life.”

Undeterred, Lashkari went to the University of Kansas before he was finally accepted into the University of Houston’s Hilton College of Hotel and Restaurant Management. His early college days were marked by culture shock, as like other South Asian children, Lashkari was taught British English, which often caused consternation when he took American English classes. Dinners at home would often be had between 8 p.m. and 11 p.m., a radical difference from the usual meal times in the U.S. that normally start two to three hours earlier.

On top of that, Lashkari freely admitted he was poor when he arrived to the U.S. Even with the money from all the scholarships, he found himself borrowing regularly from relatives living nearby.

There was still some levity to be found: His classmates called him “Midas” because he was able to get free snacks from the vending machines at the dormitory. (Lashkari insists it was just a strange coincidence.)

Lashkari’s studies and on-campus work later led to jobs with Marriott, Westin and Hilton, largely in employment management and development. While the money was good, his interests still remained in the kitchen.

“You become a clone, and they want you to be a clone, and there was so much creativity in me that I didn’t want to be a clone,” Lashkari said. “In the back of my mind, I wanted to create dishes and express myself through cooking. I thought to open my own place and introduce my food to America.”

In 1992, Lashkari opened his first restaurant, Kaiser’s Restaurant, on the corner of Beechnut and Kirkwood, right in the center of Alief. He remained there for 12 years in spite of the restaurant’s small dining room of eight to 10 seats, and an uncooperative neighboring bar. Things at the proto-Himalaya looked bleak until he finally met his wife Azra on a chance encounter.

Lashkari calls Azra the “51 to my 49 percent.” When they met, Lashkari was recording a radio bit for his business, while Azra was visiting from California and sitting in at the station, a friend of one of the radio hosts.

“She heard me and thought, ‘I like this man’s voice and he appears to be as crazy as I am,’” he recalled.

She eventually married him and the business, challenging the chef to rethink what he was doing. That includes Lashkari’s most famous dish: chicken hara masala, highlighted by a spicy green curry that offered a tang and approachable heat that other chicken dishes did not. Lashkari says Azra harped on previous versions of the dish, challenging her husband to make it sharper.

In 2004, the couple moved the restaurant to a shopping complex off Hillcroft and the Southwest Freeway. After the name change to reflect “the height of taste,” the rest was history: Himalaya became an alluring draw to Indo-Pak fans and critics from both inside and outside the city. Much of that can be attributed to Lashkari’s high standards in the kitchen and his repeated mantra, “Cooking has to be done from the heart.”

The chicken hara masala at Himalaya.

Megha McSwain

‘This is my bread and butter’

Those high standards have earned Lashkari substantial criticism from people inside the food and beverage industry, and even to regular customers. Scroll through some of the lower-starred Yelp reviews of Himalaya, and you’ll find plenty of testimonials about the “abrasive” and “rude” owner.

Lashkari was not shy to admit that he has terminated employees over the years, even publicly dressing them down in earshot of customers. In one account, a server delivered food to the wrong tables four times during a shift. The fifth time it happened, he exploded at the server inside the kitchen.

I had a good guess at what kind of man Lashkari was during our time together because I’ve met him before. He’s my father-in-law, who immigrated from Kerala, worked at an alarm company until he took ownership of it and later became a mini-real estate tycoon. He’s my uncle: a former police detective in Sri Lanka who filed for asylum in Canada and started a successful trucking company. Most immigrants who are able to carve out a slice of the Western world for themselves only have two speeds: zero or 100. Lashkari falls in the latter category, and that drive can often be interpreted by onlookers as “abrasive” and “rude” for people who aren’t in the know.

“I am what I am. I don’t hide my feelings,” said Lashkari. “Some people say, ‘He’s a Hitler in the kitchen.’ No. If I was, I wouldn’t have these 10 core people in my staff. Even as much as they wanted a job, they wouldn’t tolerate me or vice versa.”

Two decades in, Lashkari has mulled retirement: When will he do it? How will he fill the hours of the day? Will he drive Azra crazy?

It’s not a secret that Lashkari has wanted to open a culinary school. Come summer of 2024, he says, the James Beard award-nominated chef will open the Himalaya Culinary School in Sugar Land. Lashkari says it will be the first culinary school focusing on Indian and Pakistani cuisine in the U.S.

The logo for Chef Kaiser Lashkari’s Himalaya Culinary School in Sugar Land, Texas.

Himalaya/Handout

“There are certain iconic dishes in the restaurant that everyone who has eaten in Himalaya wants to duplicate in their kitchen,” Lashkari said. “They would ask, ‘Please, let me have the recipe.’ I declined because this is my bread and butter. I can’t do that until I retire.”

The school comprises two buildings and is still in the works at the Grand Parkway and Southwest Freeway. CultureMap originally reported it was going to open in February 2024 but since then, Lashkari has had to deal with continued permit difficulties. The new opening date is set for sometime in May or June.

“The class will be no more than 15 people because you lose the individuality,” Lashkari said. “And then I want to take in serious people who are serious about food. This is not going to be like a social or hobnob thing. I will teach them from the bottom of my heart.”

Lashkari will teach two days per week, Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings. He’ll still hold court at Himalaya, but when he’s away, Azra and his sister-in-law will be running the front and back ends of the restaurant. School fees will run $50 to $60 per single class.

A significant part of the school’s purpose is to benefit a cause Lashkari has been very animated about: ending hunger. All proceeds of the Himalaya Culinary School will go toward feeding the hungry and poor. While he didn’t explicitly say who would benefit, Lashkari has worked with the Houston Food Bank and Periwinkle Foundation in years past.

“When we came here, we had nothing,” Lashkari said. “I had less than $500 in the bank as my life savings. Whatever I made here, it’s all because of the support of Houston and our customers. And the thing that made us what we are today is the food.”

The inaugural newsletter of the Global Council of Zoroastrians Trust (GCZT) was launched recently.

The Mission of GCZT is to offer a platform to the Zoroastrian
Community to come together and work together for the
wellbeing and prosperity of the Parsi, Irani and Iranian
Zoroastrian community worldwide.

The 24 page newsletter covers various news events and highlights the various areas of work and collaboration happening at GCZT.

Check out the GCZT Website here: https://gczt.org/

Click to download newsletter here: https://gczt.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/GCZT-Newsletter-Final-.pdf

Dear Parsi Khabar Family

On the joyous occassion of Jamshedi Navroze we take this opportunity to wish you, your families and loved ones a very healthy, happy, peaceful and prosperous Navroze. We are grateful for your readership over the past two decades and counting.

Below is a succinct and clear explanation of when Navroze falls this year in 2024.

Sincerely

Team Parsi Khabar.

The below image is of the Haft-Seen table laid out at the home of Mehernaaz, Shovir, Ava and Zal Irani in Mumbai India.

Is it Navroze Today on 21st March or was it Yesterday on 20th March?

Simply put, Yesterday or 20th March  was the Spring Equinox – a Natural phenomenon. Today or  21st March is Roj Hormuzd of Mah Fravardin or New Year according to the Fasal or seasonal calendar.

It is a scientific fact that the spring  equinox occurred yesterday (i.e., on 2Oth March 2024) in the Northern hemisphere.

The spring — or vernal — equinox can happen on March 19, 20 or 21  depending on the year and the exact time would depend on one’s geographic location.

Year 2024 is leap year so yesterday was  Roz e vahizak (extra day as per fasal or seasonal calendar) today 21st March is Roj Hormuzd of Mah Fravardin or Navroze day or first new day of the New Year as per Fasal (seasonal) calendar.

It’s Nature’s New Year in the Northern hemisphere.

We celebrated the equinox yesterday and today we celebrate the first or new year’s day as per the Fasal calendar.

In our opinion, celebrate everyday as a gift of Life to us. Yesterday was a day to recognize Nature’s phenomenon and celebrate it now lets  observe today as Fasal (seasonal) roj Hormazd and offer gratitude to Life!

Navroze this year heralds year of the Blue Whale.

Blue is colour of royalty

Whale is an acqutic mamal  which is auspicious.

Thus, the year promises to be a good year of abundance and prosperity

Persians seem to follow the Chinese Zodiac probably from the time of the old Silk Trade Route.

2024 is the Chinese year of the dragon.

Chinese dragons have many animal-like forms such as turtles and fish, but are most commonly depicted as snake-like with four legs.

Persians dislike snakes so they prefer dragon in form of a giant fish.

May we all have a “whale of a time”, today and everyday, throughout the year.

– Noshir H Dadrawala

Naheed Divecha , representing Maharashtra clinched two gold medals in the Yonex Sunrise 46th Indian Masters National Badminton Championship 2024 held at Panchkula, Chandigarh.  Participating in the Nationals since 2013, this is Naheed’s first singles title, but has earlier won 2 previous Mixed doubles titles in 2019, and 2022 and the Women’s Doubles title in 2019.

This follows a triple crown at the Maharashtra state Masters Tournament in January 2024 where she won the Women’s Singles, Women’s Doubles and Mixed Doubles in the 50* age category , winning the state  Triple for the third time.

Bombay Gymkhana’s Vice -President Naheed Divecha, trains  with the ShuttleCraze Academy and also trains in martial arts every weekend and is currently a second degree Black Belt.

Bai Jerbai Wadia funded 1500 flats in iconic Parsi Baugs. Wealthy Parsis pay high security deposits for residences. The auctioning process has faced criticism for favoring the affluent over the needy in the community.

Article by Nauzer K Bharucha / Mumbai Mirror

Cusrow Baug in Colaba is among five Baugs built on over 35 acres of prime south Mumbai lands

MUMBAI: In the early 20th century, a wealthy Parsi widow from a distinguished lineage acquired vast land parcels and funded the construction of 1,500 flats in 64 buildings for poor and middle-class Parsi families in different parts of Mumbai.

The philanthropist, Bai Jerbai Wadia, great-grandmother of industrialist Nusli Wadia, could not have envisioned that homes in these iconic Parsi Baugs she established for her community’s financially challenged segments would one day exchange hands for several crores of rupees.

Wealthy members of the Parsi community are prepared to shell out substantial sums as a “refundable security deposit” to the Bombay Parsi Punchayat (BPP) for the allocation of an apartment. These arrangements are on a leave-and-licence basis, with a maximum monthly rent of Rs 10,000. Amid the lively activity of Colaba Causeway, where tourists and shoppers throng, many may overlook the imposing stone entrance that heralds Cusrow Baug, a 14-acre serene Parsi habitation established in 1934. On March 13, a 4BHK (4 bedroom-hall-kitchen) apartment there attracted four contenders, with the highest security deposit surpassing Rs 4 crore. Previously, a larger apartment in the same Baug reached a record-breaking deposit of Rs 6 crore.

At Ness Baug in Nana Chowk, a 5BHK residence (1,699 sq ft) recently garnered a bid exceeding Rs 5 crore. Meanwhile, in Byculla’s Sant Savta Marg, the nearly 10 acre Rustom Baug remains a coveted locale for prosperous Parsis, with apartments commanding deposits between Rs 2 crore and Rs 3 crore.

“Parsis prefer residing within our ‘Baugs’. These are Parsi covenanted gated residential complexes. Given our small population, these baugs offer a comforting and secure environment for community members,” said Adil Malia, a trustee of BPP. He noted that these baugs afford inhabitants “a certain sense of cultural preservation, maintaining their distinct identity in a setting filled with like-minded individuals who share similar beliefs, behaviours, religious practices, dietary habits, mores and traditions.”

“This aspect is vital for us and, to some extent, crucial for the survival of our small community,” Malia added. During the Covid lockdown, residents of the baugs rallied together to safeguard one another, including the elderly, childless, infirm, and those in need.

Tax expert and supreme court lawyer Homi Ranina, who is also trustee of the Karani Agiary (fire temple) located inside the sprawling Cusrow Baug complex, said the BPP, which controls the baugs (along with the Wadia committee) earns substantial money through these security deposits. “When a family leaves the apartment, they receive their deposit back, sans interest. Yet, there’s always another family ready to move in with a higher deposit, allowing BPP to perpetually retain the funds,” he said.

Hoshang Jal, a Cusrow Baug resident and BPP trustee, said by investing in a baug property, families can enjoy a virtually rent-free existence in the city’s core. “The social advantages are vast, including access to clubhouses, gym amenities, children’s play areas, and a variety of events and activities. Plus, the support from fellow community members in a baug is invaluable; in times of need or crisis, there’s always a friend or neighbour to lend a hand,” he said.

Community activist Arzan J Ghadially observed that Parsis have traditionally resided in tight-knit colonies for decades, as most couldn’t afford ownership homes. “This trend continues, but now the dynamics have shifted. Increasing numbers of affluent community members also seek residence in Parsi colonies, and the BPP facilitates their entry into the baugs through indirect means. Through donations and hefty deposits, these affluent individuals gain priority, which the BPP views as revenue generation, though it actually creates more liabilities,” he said.

Ghadially argued that auctioning apartments undermines the Trust’s purpose. “It’s a façade to conceal the trust’s mismanagement. While the poor and needy are told there are no available homes, the wealthy simply enter the BPP boardroom, make a deposit, and gain access to the baugs,” he said.

BPP chairman Viraf Mehta countered this view though. “A tenant gets an opportunity to encash his tenancy, encouraging them to surrender a flat they no longer need or have kept locked or have migrated abroad. A buyer gets an opportunity to enter a Parsi colony and raise his family in a colony atmosphere. The BPP stands to benefit as well from this auction as the landlord, especially in its present cash starved position.’’ He added that only high value flats are auctioned while other flats are kept exclusively for allotment to the deserving as per merit rating.

Trustee Malia said primary sources of substantial income for trusts like the BPP are donations, monthly licence fees, investment returns and interests from refundable security deposits. Post-pandemic, as donations waned, the real income sources are the interest from these deposits, which is crucial for funding BPP’s various religious, social and community initiatives,” he asserted.

She built baugs for the needy in early 20th century

Bai Jerbai Wadia (1852-1926) set out to construct low-cost baugs or housing colonies for lower and middle-class Parsis after the death of her husband, industrialist Nowrosjee Wadia, a descendant of the Wadia family of “Master Builders’’. In his will, he had earmarked over Rs 8 lakh for charitable purposes for the Parsi community.

Between 1908 and 1956, a total of five Baugs were built on more than 35 acres of prime south Mumbai lands. These are Nowroz Baug (Lalbaug), Rustom Baug (Byculla), Bai Jerbai Baug (Byculla), Cusrow Baug (Colaba) and Ness Baug (Nana Chowk).

In 1907, she purchased a six-acre plot at Parel-Lalbaug and built eight blocks and called it Nowroz Baug. Gradually, more blocks were built and today it houses 358 families.

After she passed away in 1926, her son, Nusserwanji (Sir Ness) along with trustees of N N Wadia and R N Wadia Trusts in 1933 acquired 14 acres for Rs 12 lakh in Colaba. The land belonged to the then BBCI (now Western railway). The new colony was named Cusrow Baug and opened on March 21, 1934.

Own the Past brought the Parsi community of Kolkata together to celebrate their legacy, culture and food ahead of Navroz

Jaismita Alexander | Telegraph India

Noomi Mehta and Cyrus Madan, prominent figures in Kolkata’s Parsi community, regaled the audience with humorous anecdotes

All photos by Upama Dutta

Who is a Parsi? What is their history? All this and more unravelled at the Bawa Bhonu & Gupshup event held as a prelude to Navroz, on March 17. At Olpadvala Memorial Hall, the Parsi community in Kolkata gathered along with a few history enthusiasts to discover more about the legacy, culture and food of the Parsis in Kolkata.

Organised by Vibha Mitra’s Own the Past, a city group of history and heritage enthusiasts, the event was focused on reviving conversation. Own the Past is a gurukul vertical in Mitra’s OPUS Foundation Trust, which focuses on immersive learning about history.

Exploring the question, ‘Who is a Parsi?’

Prochy N Mehta in conversation with (right) Yezdi Karai about her book

The evening unfolded with philanthropist, sportswoman and author Prochy N. Mehta engaging in a conversation with Yezdi Karai about her book Who is a Parsi? It was a detailed introductory session on the community and its roots. Speaking about the book, Yezdi Karai asked the author, “This book is a research text. A book like this doesn’t happen overnight. It requires a copious amount of research. Take us through the journey of the book — from writing the very first page to the day of publication.” Answering the question, Mehta spoke about the journey and her motivation behind writing the book. She said, “I decided to write the book around 2012, when my grandchildren faced discrimination. That’s when my quest to find out who is a Parsi began. I found out that many of the stories that we have heard are just myths. Finally, during Covid, I put down all my research and sent it to Fali Nariman. I did not know him, but I just sent him asking if he could help me and if my research was correct.”

For her book ‘Who is a Parsi?’, Mehta recieved guidance from legal doyen Late Fali Sam Nariman

Late Fali Sam Nariman, legal doyen, a prominent constitutional lawyer, who was 90 then, went through the book and corrected it by hand and gave his valuable advice to Mehta. “He added judgments to the book and helped me with the constitutional way forward to the equality of the community,” she said.

Addressing the question – ‘Who is a Parsi?’ – Prochy N Mehta said, “There’s no definition of a Parsi. Some say religion, some say caste, some say the way we look, some define us by our mannerisms and the food we eat. But there’s no fixed definition and the book addresses why.”

Yezdi Karai said, “The acid test of a book is when it is accepted in the field of education. I am glad to inform you all that the book has been included in St. Xavier’s University’s school of philosophy and religion. Also, the book is a research text in the School of Oriental and African Studies in London.”

The conversation flowed into various anecdotes and historical facts about the community and its lineage. A music video, ‘To Parsi girls we’ll wrong no more’, was also screened featuring Samara Mehta Vyas, who is a singer and the granddaughter of Prochy Mehta. The lyrics capture the key message of Prochy N Mehta’s book.

Little touches at the venue like artworks by Katayun Satlak that were on display celebrated Parsi culture

Chuckles and chit-chat 

Two stalwarts of the Parsi community in Kolkata, Noomi Mehta, chairman of the Selvel One group, and Cyrus Madan, former chairman of Royal Calcutta Turf Club, took the stage to share some funny stories from the community. Opening the fun banter, Cyrus Madan said, “Parsis tend to be a little eccentric. You can’t help that! You are so brilliant that you cannot help being eccentric!”

Taking over the conversation, Noomi Mehta shared his experience with what people think about the Parsis. He said, “Once I asked my friends as to what are the characteristics they think of when they think of a Parsi. They said that it was loyalty and eccentricity. I’m leaving out the eccentricity for now, but when it comes to loyalty, we are still loyal to an oath — a promise we made but we aren’t sure what the promise was!”

The duo also discussed the story of the lives of prominent Parsis like Edulji Olpadvala of the 20th century, after whom the Olpadvala Memorial Hall was named. They also shared funny stories about their friends and family.

Bhonu to conclude the evening 

No Parsi gathering is complete without ‘bhonu’ or feasting

When Parsis gather, there must be food! The evening rolled into a night of culinary extravaganza. And there was much more than Dhansak. The buffet of Parsi cuisine had dishes like Patrani Macchi, Parsi Stew, Sali Marghi, Mutton Dhansak and rice and Mitthu Dahi. The buffet was catered by Khurshid Vatcha, who is known in the Parsi community for her food.

A haft-sheen table was laid out by Sanam Karai to offer a glimpse of a Navroz tradition followed at Parsi homes. Artworks on canvas by Parsi stained-glass artist Katayun Satlak were on display too.

Post the event, Vibha Mitra, the mind behind the initiative said, “It was a wonderful event. That’s what everyone who joined in told me. It was educational and enriching with all the speakers sharing their thoughts and knowledge. We plan to do more such events like this to revive the legacy and conversation about the heritage of Kolkata.”

On the menu were classic Parsi dishes including Patrani Machchi and Sali Margi

Courtesy Own the Past

An excerpt from ‘Iranshah: A Legacy Restored’, by Zarin Amrolia.

Article by Zarin Amrolia | Scroll

Iranshah Ātash Behram temple in Udwada, Gujarat. | Divya Cowasji.

An evening walk through the town gives one an opportunity to stop and greet the mobeds (ordained priests) who have made Udwada their home for many generations. In their flowing white muslin jamas (robes), their heads covered in paghris (turbans), and a padan of fine mull cloth covering the nose and mouth, they serve the divine fire several times a day. They are also often requested to pray for the souls of departed family members and conduct ceremonies in gratitude for celebratory events.

Most of the permanent residents of Udwada are members of the nine families who have been serving as boiwalas (priests who tend to the fire) at the Iranshah Atash Behram for generations. Ervad Kekobad Mogul belongs to one of these nine families and is the seventh generation of a family to make Udwada their home. Today, he is the most experienced boiwala, having spent seventy years bowing to the revered fire five times a day. “My family has been serving the Iranshah since the Maratha regime. The earliest was Ervad Bhikha Dastur Rustom,” says Ervad Mogul.

Dressed in white always, the octogenarian navigates his way to the Iranshah Atash Behram every morning on his trusted bicycle, and claims that the power of the manthravani (prayers) is immense for those who have faith. Much respected for his knowledge in conducting rituals and much loved for his good humour, he is often consulted by Zoroastrian priests and academicians. “Everyone is surprised to see me still working part-time. And I tell them, it is all by the grace of the Iranshah,” he says.

Numerous portraits of his venerable ancestors grace his quaint house. One afternoon he and his wife, Freny Mogul, were our gracious hosts, as he recalled memories of being a full-time priest at the Atash Behram with wit, joviality and satisfaction at being part of such a distinguished legacy.

“My life is dedicated to the service of my Atash Padshah. l became a navar (first level of priesthood) while I was in school. Before becoming a navar, our senior mobeds would test us to discover how well we knew our prayers. By the age of ten, I had learnt all the prayers of the higher liturgical ceremonies of Ijeshne, Vendidad and Visperad which are extensive. The mobeds who took my test predicted that I would be performing these ceremonies until it was time to retire, and I did!” Ervad Mogul laughed, crediting his father for the knowledge he imparted to him.

“My father supported me immensely, and I am continuing his legacy. As a full-time priest, I would conduct the boi ceremonies of all five gahs (the day is divided into five periods or gahs), beginning from the midnight Ushahin gah. In my lifetime, I have conducted thousands of pav mahal (high inner liturgical ceremonies) prayers such as Ijeshne and Vendidad which last for hours and there is no break for drinking water or visiting the restroom.” On the days he was on duty, his resting place at home would be a cot which was kept secluded from all.

Maintaining such a devout lifestyle is only possible with the help of family who believe in the cause. “My wife has followed every ritual and offered me support to carry on with my work,” Ervad Mogul acknowledges.

He is a firm believer in the divine power of the Iranshah. “Our Atash Padshah was consecrated in Sanjan, and for the first seven hundred years there, the aura of lranshah was such that only the spiritually enlightened would be able to see the full glory of the fire, while for us perhaps a small part of the fire was visible.”

He is witness to thousands of Zoroastrians from far and wide paying their respects at the Ätash Behram. “You must have faith. Faith moves mountains. In my seventy years as a full-time priest, I have seen many miracles.”

To become a “perfect” mobed, education in religious methods is required. The first step is to become a navär, then a marätab and then a samel. “Samel means being a perfect mobed. When we complete all our education, we reach out to the senior mobeds to take our exam. For this exam, forty or fifty senior mobeds as well as Dasturjis test the aspiring young priests on several prayers, and rituals,” said Elvad Mogul. Citing the example of one such ritual he said, “We have to cut our own hair as a barber cannot touch us. There is a prayer and ritual before and after taking haircuts, consuming food and daily baths.” Those who excel must undergo the seclusion of a sacred nähn (purification ceremony) for nine days and nine nights and conduct the required rituals. And then it is announced that the student is ready to conduct all ceremonies.” Not all the mobeds excel in the first round. If a candidate does not fare well, he is requested to continue studying for another six months before he can reappear for the exam.

“Earlier, we used to have around forty students who would study to become perfect mobeds. Over the years, these young children grew up to become engineers, and doctors and joined other professions where they would excel. Many of them, after their retirement, have come back to give boi at the Iranshah. Today, we need them. Previously, there would be twelve to fourteen mobeds from each of the nine families, now there are only one or two practising priests. My brothers too know all the ceremonies and prayers although they are not practicing priests. The number of mobeds has reduced and perfect mobeds like us are even fewer,” Ervad Mogul says regretfully.

Gratitude, appreciation, and faith imbued the conversations. The opportunity to serve the Iranshan he says is a blessing. “I have served the Iranshah for seventy years, day and night. Now I am retired, but still pray at Iranshah every day. Today, I am satisfied, happy and grateful to dedicate my life to my Atash Padshah.

Excerpted with permission from Iranshah: A Legacy Restored, Zarin Amrolia, Shapoorji Pallonji and Company Private Limited.

Walking into Cowas Jehangir’s office building in the historic part of the city instantly transports you back in time. Old Bombay, in its golden age, would be the best way describe it. A lift of a bygone era slowly takes us up to an office, the walls of which bear portraits and photographs of members of the Jehangir family over the decades. The Jehangirs are a prominent Parsi family of India that contributed generously to the developmental landscape of Bombay (now Mumbai) via a varied array of businesses and philanthropy from the first half of the 1700s.

Article by Jeena J Billimoria | Hello Magazine

It all began with Hirji Jeevanji, who came from Navsari (Gujarat) to Bombay, and was the first Indian to open trade with China along the sea route in the 1720s. Since then, succeeding generations have diversified into various fields including art, finance, trade, education, textiles, chemicals, healthcare and prime real estate, with notable contributions such as the Sir Cowasji Jehangir Public Hall (now NGMA), Crawford Market, Mumbai University and the Jehangir Hospital, among others. Fast forward to today and it’s Cowas and his family that are the current gatekeepers of this centuries-old legacy.

Cutting a dapper figure, Cowas welcomes us into his work sanctuary. He possesses an easy-going demeanour, is down-to-earth and charming, and, as we soon find out, has a brilliant sense of humour. Born and brought up in Mumbai, he moved to Pune to finish high school. Armed with degrees in business administration, real estate, and finance from San Diego, California, his career began in the USA at a real estate fund. “I moved back to Mumbai in 2013 to work full-time with a real estate development management company, and by late 2019, I pivoted to take a more active role in the family business and management — particularly our hospital and healthcare group, the Jehangir Hospital in Pune,” he shares as we sit down for the interview to learn more.

HELLO!: Cowas, the first thing we want to ask is the story behind the family’s Readymoney nickname…

Cowas Jehangir: Since there were no permanent last names for Parsis until the 1900s, typically, the son took on the father’s name. Hirji Jeevanji, our first ancestor who moved to Bombay, took on the name ‘Readymoney,’ which eventually became the family surname. He acquired this nickname since he was a prominent financier and had ever ready money available to lend. His great grandson, Cowasji Jehangir was Knighted in 1872 in recognition of his various donations and charitable causes. His son, Jehangir Cowasji Jehangir Readymoney, was titled with a Baronetcy by the British in 1908 and took on the official name of Sir Cowasji Jehangir (in honour of his father), which then led to the title being handed down from one generation to the next (my dad, Jehangir is the fourth generation baronet and I will be the fifth). He later dropped the Readymoney name and Jehangir has remained the family name since the Second Baronetcy.

H!: Does the weight of the family legacy feel daunting?

CJ: I wouldn’t define it as weight (smiles). I consider it a privilege and my responsibility to take that legacy forward. It is fundamentally built on doing good and giving back to society as the first driver. Business will always follow. This is why it is a privilege to take that further. The expectations are high, as are the standards that previous generations and our parents have set; however, there has never been pressure from our parents to go in any particular direction that they wanted. Both my younger sister (Simone) and I are fully empowered in taking that legacy forward simply because of the values and ethics that have become a part of our being.

H!: Your family leads a private life, far away from the public eye. Can you tell us about the bond you all share?

CJ: I have an extremely happy relationship with everyone in my family — my mother, Jasmine, my father, Jehangir, and Simone. Our parents treated us as friends as much as their children, which made for a much more open and easy relationship as we grew up — and still continue to grow up! (Laughs). They’ve luckily been very easy-going with us and let us live our lives. They’ve been our parents when we needed it but also our best friends when we needed that. Humility, respect for others, always being grateful and living honest lives have been values that my parents have championed throughout my life.

H!: How do you spend time together as a family?

CJ: We are a family of musicians! My mother plays the saxophone, my father plays the trumpet, my sister sings and I play the drums and saxophone. We’ve played plenty of gigs together as a family (with a full band) for nearly my entire life — so sharing a stage with my family with a passion that we’re all fond of is something I’m very proud of and has been some of our best times together.

H!: Tell us more about your role specifically in the family business…

CJ: My role is to drive expansion in the Jehangir Hospital Group — be it internally within the main hospital campus or expansion of future hospitals in other cities. Our focus is also on preventive healthcare and wellness, aiming to establish a network of holistic wellness centres. In any family business, especially one as old as ours, moving the organisation in a certain direction becomes slower with so many moving parts. My focus is to try and make our hospital group nimble — a large organisation with the decision-making and execution of a start-up. I also closely work with and support my uncle, Adi Jehangir, who is a strong pillar in our family and focuses on our institutions in Mumbai like the Jehangir Art Gallery with his son (my cousin, Hirji).

H!: Speaking of decision-making, do you have the freedom to make your own within the company?

CJ: Yes, I do. But it’s very important to recognise the professional management we’ve established with our hospital group that are fully empowered to drive decisions. Decision making becomes a lot clearer and easier to navigate when you leverage and empower the right people in the right places which we have done well.

H!: What’s your vision for the future?

CJ: To expand the vast experience and goodwill of Jehangir Hospital’s 79 years of ethical healthcare for the society into areas where healthcare is moving forward — newer medical technologies and equipment, focus on preventive healthcare, wellness, the applicability of AI, providing the best environmental for all healthcare workers for them to thrive and deliver quality healthcare for all strata of society. Even as we look into these areas, our focus will always be people, healing them and keeping them well. The hospital was started as a charitable trust and is still one today, therefore, everything that we do will always have the overarching objective to keep providing the best quality and ethical healthcare for all equally.

In the post-pandemic era, our clinical trial company, Jehangir Clinical Development Center, has come to the forefront as people increasingly recognise the value of clinical research. Our aim is to advance this platform further.

H!: What are your interests outside of the office?

CJ: Music is one of my biggest passions — whether it’s listening to it all the time, playing along with music, or jamming with friends. I’ve been playing the drums for over 20 years and saxophone for the last 3-4 years. I’m particularly keen on jazz, blues and rock. Health and wellness have become important aspects of my life and it’s developed into a huge interest for me lately — I’m always trying to learn more about fitness, nutrition and overall health to better myself.

H!: Any guilty pleasures?

CJ: Chocolate is always a guilty pleasure. I’ll never say no to it! (Laughs)

H!: What about your family history are you most proud of ?

CJ: I am extremely proud of the fact that for all the successes that have come through various generations and businesses, the main focus has always been to give back to society in any way, first.

H!: Is there an heirloom that’s been given to you that you’ll forever cherish?

CJ: There are many heirlooms with rich histories that could fill pages! While this is not a single heirloom per se, I cherish our family crest and motto that has been passed down through the generations. The motto is, ‘My Life Is His Who Gave It,’ which is a lovely reminder to always be grateful.

H!: The best piece of advice you’ve received?

CJ: Two bits of advice, one from each parent. The first from my mother — whatever you do, make sure you’re enjoying yourself and doing it with a smile. The rest will always fall into place and you’ll always do well. And from my father — respect all relationships with people and truly care for them, whether it be a personal or professional, it will always come back to you with positivity somewhere and at some point.(Smiles)

Photos: Ryan Martis

This article has been adapted for the website from the March 2024 issue of HELLO! India.

Dr. Feroze Y. Sidhwa a Trauma Surgeon from California is currently volunteering at the European Hospital Khan Younis in Gaza, Palestine.

Dr. Sidhwa’s segment can be heard at the 30:00 Minute mark in the Democracy Now video segment below.

More About Dr. Feroze Sidhwa here

Follow his X Twitter Account here.

DR. FEROZE SIDHWA: The hospital itself is basically a displaced persons camp. I just walked out of my — I live in a little building called the Midan at the end of the square. It’s a kind of an outlying area of the hospital. And yeah, just walking, walking into the hospital. It’s only about a five-minute walk. It’s just squalor everywhere, the kids running around without shoes, kids running around with sores, people actually wheeling their family members around in a hospital bed sometimes, a bunch of cars that can’t move anywhere because there’s no gasoline. They’re using them as beds and shelters sometimes. But, you know, you can see there’s no privacy, no dignity for any of these people.

But they somehow maintain their humanity. It’s pretty impressive to see, actually. I’m walking by the four latrines that people share here. I’m told there’s 20,000 people on the hospital grounds, and they share four latrines. It’s ridiculous. You can imagine the smell. And it’s literally right in front of the hospital main entrance, which is also a giant tent city. But yeah, no, you know, the way these people attempt to maintain some of their own dignity and humanity, you know, they’re maintaining their custom of Ramadan. They’re still staying in family units despite the fact that they have been displaced multiple times each. A lot of them, this is their — you know, leaving aside the 1948 or 1967 displacements, some of them have been displaced three or four times just from this war. Half of the medical students, their families are dead. They were displaced.

CHILD: Hello!

DR. FEROZE SIDHWA: Hello. Half of them were displaced from — the kids love to say hello to anybody that they’ve figured out is a foreigner. And, you know, half the medical students, their families — they have family members who died. And still, you know, they’re not even in medical school down here, but they go, they come down here, and they just came to Gaza European Hospital to volunteer. And they actually run the emergency room, for the most part, right now.

Dr. Sidhwa’s last update on X before he headed to Gaza

250 lbs of aid being flown by my colleague today, and I’m taking almost 500 lbs with me on Saturday to #Gaza. Americans want aid and peace for #Gaza and #Israel, not weapons, death, and destruction! @WhiteHouse @POTUS pic.twitter.com/68ZsvHvIxi

— Feroze Sidhwa (@FerozeSidhwa) March 22, 2024

Here is another account from Dr. Ang Swee Chai who is working with Dr. Feroze Sidhwa in Gaza

“On March 25th the two of us, an orthopedic surgeon and a trauma surgeon, traveled to the Gaza Strip to work at Gaza European Hospital. We were immediately overwhelmed by the overflown sewage and the distinct smell of gunpowder in the air. We made the short journey from the Rafah crossing to Khan Younis, where Gaza European Hospital stands as one of the last remaining semi-functional hospitals for the 2.5 million human beings – half of them children – in the Gaza Strip. As humanitarian surgeons we thought we had seen all manner of cruelty in the world, but neither one of us has ever experienced anything like what we found when we arrived in Gaza.

We exited the van into a sea of children, all shorter and thinner than they ought to have been. Even over their screams of joy at meeting new foreigners, the snowmobile-like hum of Israeli drones could be heard overhead. That background noise is a constant reminder that violence and death can rain down on anyone at any time in this besieged and ransacked territory.

Our limited sleep is constantly interrupted by explosions that shake the hospital’s walls and pop our ears, even well after the United Nations Security Council declared a ceasefire must be implemented. When warplanes scream overhead everyone braces for a particularly loud and powerful explosion. The timing of these explosions always coincides with “iftar”, when families in this overwhelmingly Muslim county break the daily fast of Ramadan and are most vulnerable.

We walked through the wards and immediately found evidence of horrifying violence deliberately directed at civilians and even children. A three-year-old boy shot in the head, a 12-year-old girl shot through the chest, an ICU nurse shot through the abdomen, all by some of the best-trained marksmen in the world. Every square inch of the hospital’s floor is taken up with makeshift tents where displaced families live. They are the lucky several hundred who get to live indoors, unlike the tens of thousands sheltering outside on the hospital’s grounds.

As we got to work we were shocked by the violence inflicted on people. Incredibly powerful explosives ripped apart rock, floors, and walls and threw them through human bodies, penetrating skin with waves of dirt and debris. With the environment literally embedded in our patients’ bodies we have found infection control to be impossible. No amount of medical care could ever compensate for the damage being inflicted here.

As humanitarian trauma surgeons we have both seen incredible suffering. Collectively we were present at Ground Zero on 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, and the 2010 earthquake in Haiti on the first day of these disasters. We have worked in the depravation of southern Zimbabwe and the horrors of both the war in Ukraine and attended primary trauma services to those injured in the Boston Marathon. Together we have worked on more than 40 surgical missions in developing countries on three continents in our combined 57 years of volunteering. This long experience taught us that there was no greater pain as a humanitarian surgeon than being unable to provide needed care to a patient. But that was before coming to Gaza. Now we know the pain of being unable to properly treat a child who will slowly die, but also alone, because she is the only surviving member of an entire extended family. We have not had the heart to tell these children how their families died: burnt until they resembled blistered hotdogs more than human beings, shredded to pieces such that they can only be buried in mass graves, or simply entombed in their former apartment buildings to die slowly of asphyxia and sepsis.

The United States has heavily funded and overwhelmingly armed what is called “the occupation” of Palestine, but the term is misleading. Israel’s first president, Chaim Weizmann, declared that the existence of the Palestinians was simply “a matter of no consequence.” Thirty years later, Israeli defense minister Moshe Dayan told the Israeli cabinet that the Palestinians “would continue to live like dogs…and we will see where this process leads.” Now we know: this is where it leads. It leads to Gaza European Hospital, and to two trauma surgeons realizing that the blood on the floor of the trauma bay and the operating room is dripping from our own hands, as we provide the crucial funding, weapons, and diplomatic support for a genocidal assault on a helpless population.

The two of us continue to hope against hope that American politicians, and especially President Biden, will abandon their support for Israel’s war on the Palestinians. If they do not, then we have learned nothing from the history of the past hundred years. Voltaire quipped that “no snowflake feels responsible for the avalanche”, but we as Americans must acknowledge that we are responsible for this crime against humanity that is unfolding in front of the entire world.

Israel has dropped so much American ordinance on Gaza that it now exceeds the explosive force of the atomic bomb that destroyed Hiroshima. More children have been killed in Gaza than were killed in all war zones in the entire world in the past four years. No conflict of any size in history has ever been this deadly to journalists, healthcare workers, or paramedics. Indeed, we and our entire team live in constant fear that Israel will attack this hospital directly, as it has with so many others.

We came to Gaza as two individual snowflakes trying to stop this avalanche of death and horror, and yet we also feel responsible for it. We urge anyone who reads this to publicly oppose sending weapons to Israel as long as this genocide continues, until the Israeli siege of Gaza is lifted, and until an end to the occupation can be negotiated.

Mark Pearlmutter, MD, FACS

Orthopedics Hand Surgery Specialist

Feroze Sidhwa, MD, MPH, FACS

Trauma, acute care, general surgeron, neurocritical care intensivists”

From Dr Ang Swee Chai

The CJI was speaking at a full-court reference held at the Supreme Court today in honour of Fali Nariman, who passed away on February 21, 2024.

Article by Debayan Roy | Bar And Bench

Chief Justice of India (CJI) DY Chandrachud on Thursday spoke about the impact that late veteran jurist and Senior Advocate Fali S Nariman had during tumultuous periods in the India’s history.

The CJI emphasized that Nariman was a mentor to many lawyers and judges, and that he never minced words when he critiqued judgments.

“I had received a letter just before he (Fali Nariman) passed away on a recent Constitution Bench judgment. When many voices fell silent in difficult times, his strong baritone was the voice of the nation. His memory will always serve as a guiding light for many who serve the cause of justice in this court,” CJI Chandrachud said.

The CJI was speaking at a full-court reference held at the Supreme Court of India today in honour of Fali Nariman, who passed away on February 21, 2024.

Nariman’s unflinching ethics, indomitable courage and unwavering pursuit of principle provided a balm to the soul of not just the profession but even our nation, the CJI said in his address.

Reflecting on Nariman’s illustrious career, the CJI highlighted his exceptional legal acumen and his commitment to serving the cause of justice.

“When the emergency was imposed, ASG Nariman (as he then was) resigned and he was guided by the question on whether the imposition of emergency was correct. Despite appearing for several clients across various political dispensations, he believed the primary duty was to serve the court of law,” CJI Chandrachud remarked.

The CJI also recounted Nariman’s role in several landmark cases, including his advocacy for the rights of minority educational institutions, which culminated in the TMA Pai judgment. The judgment in the Navtej Singh Johar case vindicated Nariman’s stance that consensual sex between adults could not be criminalised, the CJI highlighted.

“Grand old men only die, but never fade away,” the CJI went on to observe, while concluding his tribute to the veteran lawyer.

Senior Advocate Nariman passed away on the morning of February 21. He was 95 years old.

Through the course of a legal career that lasted more than seven decades, Nariman commanded the respect of one and all at the Bar and the Bench.

After graduating from the Government Law College, Mumbai in 1950, Nariman began his practice at the Bombay High Court. He was designated as a Senior Advocate in 1971. That year, he shifted to Delhi to practice at the Supreme Court of India.

In 1971, Nariman was appointed as Additional Solicitor General by the Indira Gandhi government. He resigned from this post in 1975 when the national emergency was imposed.

A lawyer who was always true to his conscience, Nariman would later resign from representing the Gujarat government in the Project Narmada case after attacks on Christians in the State.

In an interview with Bar & Bench back in 2010, he said the following on the need to maintain personal values and ethics in the legal profession:

“Law is a matter of the heart, as well as the head. You have to have compassion; it is one of the greatest qualities.“

Congrats to Nikita B. Surty as she wins the 2024 Women In Energy award for her dedication to transforming renewable energy in East Africa.

Her journey showcases resilience and vision, aiming to redefine the sector. Under her leadership, Spenomatic Solar Home Solutions Ltd has thrived in small scale solar installations for homes and other small establishments. The award recognizes not only her, but also her team’s commitment to making a difference in East Africa.

The April 2024 Ba Humata Lecture shall be held on the theme “LOVE IS THE HIGHEST VIBRATION OF OUR DEEPEST REALIZATION”…Yasna 53.5 & Zarathushti Prayers

Speakers

• Ervad Jal Panthaky  (Canada)
• Mahshad & Farzan Tachakara (Iran, Canada & UK)
• Delshad Sidhwa (New Zealand)
• Cyrus Mevawala  (United Kingdom)

Moderated by Dr. Karishma Koka, PhD (Cambridge University, United Kingdom)

On Sunday, April 7, 2024

• 8:00 AM Pacific Time
• 11:00 AM  Eastern Time
• 4:00 PM UK Time
• 6:30 PM Iran Time
• 7:00 PM  UAE Time
• 8:00 PM Pakistan Time
• 8:30 PM India Time
• 11:00 PM  Singapore, Hong Kong & Perth Australia
• On Monday, April 8, 2024 3:00 AM New Zealand Time

Join Zoom Meeting

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/83408826220

Meeting ID: 834 0882 6220

Passcode: BAHUMATA

The UK-Portugal Business Awards, hosted by the UK Department for Business and Trade in Portugal, brought together two leading figures from Parsi heritage, Lisa Bandari and Dr Ricardo Tavares. This event was designed to reward and publicly recognise the entrepreneurial efforts of companies that have either, chosen the UK as an investment destination or, British companies that have achieved success in Portugal.

Lisa Bandari, daughter of Kay & Darayus Bandari, has recently been appointed His Majesty’s Ambassador to Portugal. Lisa was previously serving at the FCDO as Deputy Director for India and HMG India Coordinator, having read Modern Languages at Oxford University.

Dr Ricardo Tavares, whose great grandfather, Rustomji Bomanji Billimoria, was the founder of the Bel Air Sanitorium in Panchgani and received the Padma Bhushan for his contributions to medicine, is currently leading part of a distinguished global premium education brand, Dukes Education, founded by Aatif Hassan, having read Medicine at Oxford University.

Ricardo sits on the Board of Governors for Dukes Education’s three International Schools in Portugal, namely United Lisbon International School, International Sharing School and Colegio Julio Dinis (Porto).

Our dear friend Farida Irani spoke about Navroz at the Powerhouse Museum in Paramatta, Sydney, Australia

Below is a video of her presentation.

The celebration of Nowruz is becoming better known these days, possibly because UNESCO recognized it in 2010  as an Intangible Heritage of Humanity.  And Wikipedia, calling it Persian New Year,  lists around 20 countries where it is currently celebrated.

Yet, as Shahin Bekhradnia explained in the House of Lords just one month ago on Nowruz morning, few people today realise that it has survived as a celebration of spring since ancient times among those different peoples today because they were  influenced by the Zoroastrian culture of the 3 pre-Islamic Persian Empires (hence Persian new year).  The thrill and joy of the return of spring should not be underestimated after months when everything is dormant. So Nowruz on the spring equinox (new light/day) is a celebration of the return of life within nature.

Shahin explained that the tradition of setting out a table or sofreh with 7 items differs in content in some of these contemporary cultures (eg 7 fruits in Afghanistan, 7 trays of sprouting seeds in parts of  Kurdistan, 7 items beginning with the letter ‘S’ in most of Iran), but the significant element is the  consistent presence of 7 in all of these customs.  The tradition of 7 is associated with the 7 Zoroastrian Amesha Sepenta, each of which symbolizes one of the life sustaining aspects of nature.   In Shahin’s Zoroastrian family culture, the table always includes the essential presence of Fire (Asha Vahishta=Ordibehesht), representing light, purity & truth, Milk & Cheese (Vohu Manah=Bahman) representing rightful thinking & the animal world, metal coins (Khshatra Vairyo=Shahrivar)representing strength & determination, Soil of the Earth (Spenta Armaity=Sepandarmazd/Esfand) symbolising motherhood, love, & humility,  Water (Hvauratat=Khordad) symbolising fertility, abundance and health, while  Plants (Ameretat=Mordad) represent long life, or  immortality through the legacy of a good name achieved through good deeds. 

And all the other joy-giving items on the sofreh derive from plants: the sweets, the wine, the fragrant flowers, the medicinal herbs and berries, the fruit, the rose water, the sprouting wheat/lentil shoots, the fronds of evergreens – all of these in turn are the outcomes of fire, earth and water cooperating together and put to work in harmony by the mind of humans to ensure food and pleasure!

There’s certainly plenty to celebrate about the return of spring. But it’s also a real chance to stop for a minute to appreciate the wonders of nature – its harmony & regularity.

Most of the invited audience to this splendid celebratory gathering were unaware that the contemporary 12 names of the months in Iran, are in fact the Zoroastrian names of the 12 months, 7 of which are those of the  Amesha Spenta, the remaining 5 being names in honour of the spirit of wisdom,  a star, of Mithra , water & fire.

The inspiring meeting which included several other speakers was coordinated by Stage of Freedom. This movement is dedicated to the restoration of basic human rights in Iran as well as the preservation of ancient Iranian culture & values.   Fortunately there are like minded people in the Palace of Westminster who are prepared to sponsor such an event.

Khorshed S. Chenai the President-Parsi Zoroastrian Anjuman of Secunderabad & Hyderabad writes in to inform us

We are thrilled to announce that the Khan Bahadur Edulji Sohrabji Chenai Anjuman Dar-E-Meher (Anjuman Agiary), Secunderabad, has been honoured with the prestigious INTACH Heritage Award. Mr. Homi D. Chenoy, Hon. Secretary-Trustee, PZASH, collected the award on behalf of the Anjuman at a function yesterday.

As the world comes together to celebrate the richness of our cultural heritage, this recognition holds special significance. It magnifies the importance of the Anjuman Agiary as a custodian of our collective history and tradition, symbolizing the essence of our shared identity.

We express our deepest gratitude to INTACH for honouring us with this esteemed award on World Heritage Day (18th April 2024), a day dedicated to celebrating and preserving our cultural heritage worldwide. This recognition fuels our commitment to safeguarding our heritage for future generations.

Thank you to everyone who has supported us!