As a sequel to a recent column, a family romance that celebrates the magic of music in fusing an uncommon bond Homi and Homai Dastoor in Navsari in 1959, the year of their marriage Article by Meher Marfatia | Mid-Day I thought about it quite a bit. A personal retelling of my parents’ romance is… Continue reading Where music was the food of love
Category: Short Stories
Not so Parsi love
Not so Parsi love Some stories are so ordinary that the fact that most anyone can relate to them makes them extraordinary. One such story is that of my late parents. A story of love, sacrifice, and struggle. It’s a story that both my pre-teens can narrate to you verbatim. One that I wouldn’t mind… Continue reading Not so Parsi love
Community, To Me: Maya Joshi
Community, To Me The smell of sandalwood and smoke dark and cool metallic shadows as familiar as an old friend The taste of a half remembered prayer, spoken through fumbling lips Joining the strong chant surrounding me Low whispers from papery mouths Ancient and irreverent to all but this moment The joy in the return… Continue reading Community, To Me: Maya Joshi
Empire Records: Something Borrowed by Rohinton Mistry
Two months before I was to leave Bombay for Toronto, a friend from St, Xavier s College asked to borrow my copy of "A Hard Days Night," Empire Records Something Borrowed by Rohinton Mistry / The New Yorker october 11, 2010 My friend—I’ll call him Harish—was agreeable company, always trying to find hidden meanings in… Continue reading Empire Records: Something Borrowed by Rohinton Mistry
The Demands on our Holy Fire
This is a delightful piece sent to us by Mickie Sorabjee, a regular here at Parsi Khabar. The author of this piece is not known. The intent of this article is humour and nothing else. It is* Friday and Behram Roj ‘motto daro’.* The Fire Temple is buzzing with people. All sorts and all ages.… Continue reading The Demands on our Holy Fire
Why read the Khordeh Avesta
…when we cannot understand it???? This is beautiful story sent to us by Cherag Sam Karkaria, a good friend and regular reader of Parsi Khabar An old Priest lived on a farm in the mountains with his young grandson. Each morning Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading his Khordeh Avesta. His… Continue reading Why read the Khordeh Avesta
Giving up the Ghosts
By Farrukh Dhondy My twenty something daughter refused to sleep in her own room the other night. She had memories of the room at the back of the house on the first floor not far from where the other bedrooms are, being haunted. I remembered the incident from when she was a child. We had… Continue reading Giving up the Ghosts
