Parsi community - Role model for India

I have been an unabashed admirer of the Parsi community for the past 10 years now. Why 10 years, you might think ?? Well because that’s when I met my best friend in 11th grade at Mithibai College. And yes, she happened to be a Parsi. She and her entire family….and i mean the whole clan welcomed me in their lives with open arms.

In these past ten years, I guess I have gained better knowledge as well as liking of the Parsi culture…then my own. For example, I can speak better parsi guju than punjabi and my daily vocalbury includes words such as dikara, dikari, ghadhera, etc.

I think of the Parsi community in India as a role model for the rest of us. There are a number of things they have done right since the time they arrived on our shores, 1400 years ago.

Their spirit of adaptability, their entrepreneurial skills, their high literacy level and huge success in chosen fields (which is why they tend to name themselves after their professions - Kotwal, Engineer, Doctor, Contractor).

Their live-and-let-live philosophy (neither are they demolishing others’ holy structures, nor are Fire Temples built over ruins of others’ places of worship). My best friend’s grand dad is the sweetest soul on this Earth. He is 75+ now but still so active and caring. Many occasions I have seen him offering tea & coffee to the Dhobi and Bhajiwala. When we go out to restaurants…he will still offer the chairs to the house ladies before seating himself.

Their yummy cuisine (I never miss out on a seven-course-serving Parsi wedding, Navjote ceremony, Parsi New Year. I make sure that my best friend takes me to all their fuctions). Plus on most Sundays my lunch is at her place….ahhhhh will be munching on Parsi biryani and fried chicken tomm.

Their legendary honesty (who else would you buy a used car from?). And most of all, their philanthropy (few people know that the J J Hospital is named after Sir Jamshedji Jeejeebhoy, a man of big heart).

All in all, they are an amazing bunch of people….with an oustanding culture and with equally good human values.

ps…..need to know about the Parsi culture, hear it from the horse’s mouth literally. Our Pro Blogger Arzan has an amazing and very informative blog named Parsi Khabar. Do have a look !

Below is write-up by a Parsi girl and her mission to answer an age old question ‘Are Bawas really mad?’. I really enjoyed reading and I am sure you will too.(* featured in Mid-Day)

Teena Antia tries to answer the most-frequently asked question with the help of a forwarded email which has been doing the rounds of the Parsi web community.

Here it is…..

I have often wondered: Are Bawas really mad? Of course this question only lasts for about a fraction of a microsecond. Because even a cursory glance at some of my brethren is enough to convince me of the answer.

We are mad!

I mean, what else would you call someone who parks his beloved motorcycle in his third floor living room? Or someone who has three-tier armrests on his commode so that he can read his morning newspaper more comfortably?

Or someone who makes a large loop of his pyjama string and slips it over his head every time he has a bout of diarrhoea, for quick release, in emergencies?

Of course we’re mad! In fact we inspired the famous Jack Nicholson movie, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. It was originally going to be titled: One Flew over Cusrow Baug.

Reasons

What remains to be understood is why exactly are we like this? This is a question that has bothered me on many hot summer afternoons when I feel the insanity bubbling up inside me like some slowly fermenting Dhanshak.

After all, I too have felt the urge on occasions: To donate umbrellas to all the Parsi statues in Bombay so that their dignified phetas (traditional Parsi head-gear) are not exposed to the callousness of pigeon droppings! Most of the time I can put this predisposition towards madness down to “having a slightly different sense of humour.”

But when I delve deeper, I find that there are other dimensions to our madness as well. Like my granduncle who would only wear a shirt once and then give it away to the poor (The madness of charity).

Or the man who returned a gold brick during the harbour explosion at Bombay Docks (The madness of honesty). Or the aunty who thought the TV repair man was trying to throw rays at her (The madness of paranoia).

Gentle madness

Whatever the dimension, there is no doubting one thing. Our madness is a gentle, harmless, twittering kind of madness. The kind that makes other people smile and twirl their index finger at forehead level indulgently.

But after years of introspection I find I am still unable to answer that essential question. “Why are Bawas mad?” Perhaps it is simply to entertain ourselves. After all, we haven’t got Parsi TV yet.

A scientific friend of mine thinks we are mad because of inter-breeding. He could be right. But then what about the Egyptian Phaorohs? They married their sisters.

But sometimes, I think that this answer is almost too boring for the Parsis. I prefer my more romantic friend who claims: “We are mad because if we were not, we would truly be mad. I think we are mad, to protect us from the sane.”

So the next time you feel like throwing a brick at your boss or a show window, don’t. Try the ‘Bawa’ method. Try a little productive madness and insanity…

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