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This Zoroastrian temple is in a housing complex for Parsees in Colaba (built by
the rich ones for the less well off). They're a funny bunch the Parsees.
It was odd to see Iranian-looking people who don't speak Persian strolling
about in their own village environment. You'd think they'd have mingled a
bit with the locals after all these centuries. At Elephanta, a Parsee man stopped
Hamed and I and asked if we were from Iran. Hamster, he's only 24, stupidly
said yes. Then the man said: "What is your religion?" Hamed and said: "Zartushti."
The man's face erupted with delight. "Zartauuuuuushti! What is your father's name?"
Without thinking Hamed told him the truth: "Hossein." The man's smile
dropped in an instant. Hamed sputtered an explanation on the lines of
"He was forced to take a Muslim name," but the man was no fool, said
goodbye and walked off. His bubble had burst. His bonfire was pissed on.

On my own later got chased out of a Parsee temple. I, too, lied. "My parents
are Zoroastrians," I said to a man who looked like my uncle Kamal. Not
good enough. I might as well have been Hindu.
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Better times in Bombay
Photo essay: A trip to Bombay (now Mumbai) in January last year

Peyvand Khorsandi
July 14, 2006
iranian.com

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