Of Parsis, Faith, Healing and Alternative Medicine

The orthopedic specialist has grimly pronounced that you must lie flat in bed for three weeks, not bend down or lift weights for the rest of your life. The disc has truly slipped. As you lie forlorn, staring at your false ceiling, ruing the postures you can no longer adopt, a Good Samaritan promises a magical, instantaneous cure. Groaning in pain, you stand before a large, mustachioed Parsi gingerly eyeing you. 

In the style of security guards at the airport, he frisks your fragile spine with his farmhand fingers and locates the source of your woes while his two helpers hold you back to keep you from running away should you have a last minute change of mind. The healer taps your back lightly with his foot twice or thrice before nonchalantly delivering a hard kick on the offending vertebra with laser precision. Momentarily, you are unable even to cry and then the man commands you to get up. Hesitatingly, you do and discover that your pain and stiffness have disappeared, instantly. You walk away smiling. The healer charges no money and you go home happily, thinking of the alternative employment the orthopedic doctor will soon have to find.

The legendary founder of this kick school was Manchersha Madhivala, a rough diamond. He cured thousands and never took a penny. Visitors to his simple home in Madhi village, a few miles from Navsari, were not allowed to leave without partaking of a spartan meal of coarse rice, dal and dried Bombay duck. It was believed that he had been given this magic touch by a sadhu (Indian ascetic). Madhivala imparted his method to Jal Amaria, Keki Kotwal of OK Wafers and Eruch Avari of Colaba, all of whom served selflessly and all now deceased. Kayomarz Patel continues the tradition. There were no horror stories of a kick landing wrongly or puncturing a kidney or lung.

Parsis suffering from back and neck problems also visit a Gujarati businessman at his modest residence in one of Bombay’s western suburbs. He does not kick but manipulates vigorously. In the Jain tradition, his sadhana (discipline undertaken in pursuit of a goal) has resulted in a siddhi (a power) from Mataji, a female deity, enabling him to deal with the muscular skeletal system for the last 35 years.

Allopathy provides relief but no cure for common hepatitis or jaundice. This columnist, when 12, suffered a bad attack of jaundice and the doctor was concerned with the rising bilirubin level. An old chasniwalla (fire temple worker) was approached, bargained hard for his fees, concluded the arrangement, took a bowl of water, mumbled a prayer, blew on the water and dipped the patient’s finger in the water which slowly turned yellow. Later that evening, the blood test showed normal bilirubin and the coffee colored urine turned pale yellow. The utter revulsion for food or even its aroma was soon replaced by a gargantuan appetite. The doctor just shrugged his shoulders.

A century ago, in the state of Baroda ruled by Sayajirao Gaekwad III, a granduncle working as an engineer during day would cure scorpion bites after nightfall. The villagers would bring the writhing victim, suffering from excruciating abdominal cramps, to him in a cart. The Parsi would say a short prayer and the victim would gratefully get up and walk away, blessing the healer. Nothing was taken in cash or kind. Having been taught some spell by a roaming dervish, the Parsi had to stand in chest deep water in the river at midnight on one particular day in the year, virtually like a refresher course in toxicology! The Parsi did not pass on his powers to anyone.

Migraine cured by eating a piece of sweetmeat at dawn; sunstroke cured by passing a stainless steel thali (plate) filled with water, stones and a few other things, all over the body; piles cured by consuming a cup of mild black tea blessed by a Khoja gentleman residing in a bungalow at Bandra — these are cures that have been witnessed by this columnist over the years.

For those trusting only in Zoroastrian prayers, the powerful Ardibesht Ameshaspanda Nirang followed by the equally potent nirang of the legendary king of yore, Shah-e-Faridoon, a great white magician and healer, destroyer of all evil, have been found to be miraculous not only in curing ailments but for exorcising evil and mental disorders. The healer holds the right thumb of the patient while sonorously uttering the intonation: “Fénaamé yazad ba farmaané yazad, banaménik Faridoon é daavgayé (Faridoon commands evil to be frozen).”

Not all Parsis take kindly to alternative healers. Decades ago, one Sunday evening, we remember seeing a resident medical officer of a community hospital throwing out a Parsi healer reciting prayers before a young lad afflicted with a brain tumor. The doctor bellowed in a stentorian voice across the lobby that he would summon “the Gamdevi” (police). Strangely, himself an expert on forensic science and toxicology he was reportedly often found sitting in his cabin trying to hypnotize a rooster trying its damnedest to escape the iron grip of the good doctor.

Editors’ note: Nothing contained in this article should be taken as an endorsement, by this columnist or this publication, of any of the alternative methods of cure.

Berjis M. Desai, managing partner of J. Sagar Associates, advocates and solicitors, is a writer and community activist.

FROM DADGAH TO DARGAH

Extra-religious worship is endemic.

Ervad Homi, a Navar Maratab (Editor's Note: trained Parsi priest) from Navsari, devotedly serves a Bombay fire temple, as its managing trustee. Homi offers prayers twice a day at his agiyary. He is a diehard conservative who disapproves of inter-faith marriages and crematoria. Homi believes our faith and its prayers to be potent and powerful, capable of bringing about miracles. 

Yet, every year, Homi makes a pilgrimage to Tirupati Lord Balaji and is ecstatic with the twenty second darshan of the Lord. He also visits Shirdi and prostrates himself in abject surrender to Saibaba. Homi wears around his neck an amulet of protection given by a Muslim fakir to his grandfather, which, he asserts, has protected him against many a disaster. From the Brahma temple at Pushkar, the famous Shani temple at Shignapur, the dargah of sufi saint Tajjudin Baba at Nagpur and the most revered Ajmer Sharif shrine, are all on his annual list. A carnivore who loves his daily tipple, he turns vegetarian and teetotaller during Navratri and the Ganpati festival. 

Homi is the rule not the exception. Parsis like Homi do not feel guilty for a moment about extra religious worship. Even mainstream orthodox bodies like WAPIZ seldom raise this issue, knowing fully well that many of their ardent supporters would be offended at any diatribe against extra religious worship. Of course, the readers of Parsi Voice and TZ online, regard such worship as betrayal of our Faith. But then, these days who bothers about the Fringe.

At first blush, extra religious worship alongside an abiding belief in our Faith may be puzzling. It is not so. Even Hindus, while being ardent Krishna devotees, do worship Muslim pirs, particularly in villages and small towns. This is true secularism. Being irreligious or atheist or agnostic is not necessarily secular. Treating all faiths as roads leading to the same goal is secularism. Parsis too have adopted the same approach.

Anecdotally speaking, most orthodox are second or third generation Bombayites and generally hail from the English-speaking upper middle class. On the other hand, majority Parsis like Homi are usually from the Gujarati speaking middle and lower middle classes who are either first generation Bombayites or intimately connected with their roots in Gujarat. This accounts for their close connect with fellow communities and their religious practices.

This extra-religious interaction begins at birth. A Hindu astrologer is consulted to draw up the child’s horoscope. Often the astrologer may suggest a Pooja to remove some malevolent aspect in the life chart. If the child suffers from jaundice, a Muslim healer is contacted to drain the yellowness through water therapy. It is common to worship at the local pir’s dargah and come away with an amulet of protection, worn with the same fervour as the kusti around the waist. (Editor's Note: a thread worn around the waist defines the identity of a Parsi - much like the turban of the Sikh or the thread worn by Brahmins defines their identity) 

Numerous rites, customs, superstitions are observed – pregnant women forbidden to venture out during a lunar eclipse, not touching the jar of homemade pickles during menstruation. The night of kali chaudas is feared, the evening of Dhanteras is spent in praying over new books of account and Divali is celebrated with gusto.

And this is not a new phenomenon. Parsis began to visit Shirdi from 1930 onwards. Iranis and Parsis constitute a majority of the devotees of Avatar Meher Baba (an Irani Zoroastrian who became a Sufi Master). Prominent Parsis regard late Kamubaba of Goregaon as their Guru. On Novena Wednesdays at the Mahim church and at Siddhivinayak on Tuesdays, you will see many Parsi faces. The list is long.

Although most of these Parsis continue to believe in the potent vibratory power of the Avestan prayers, being a dead language, they do not derive solace. Succour is, therefore, sought in the more intelligible. A preacher expounding the Bhagwad Gita with its twin principles of karma and reincarnation provides greater solace to a Parsi who has lost a loved one, than placing roses in a silver vase and listening to the drone of overworked Dasturjis in a smoke-filled agiary during Muktad. Increasing number of inter-faith marriages adds grist to the extra religious mill. Displaying the photo of a non-Zoroastrian saint or Guru alongside the Prophet Zarathushtra on the mantle piece is no longer frowned upon.

The hardcore traditionalist cannot figure out the mindset of his co-religionist, who while being a practising Zoroastrian is, like Homi, seen to be dabbling in alternative avenues. He is willing to ignore the indifferent Parsi but Homi is an eyesore. However, believing in other faiths, while giving primacy to ours, is a part of Homi’s DNA.

This is also a manifestation of a culture being swamped by larger ones. Parsis do not live in ghettos any longer (ironically, those living in the baugs (Editor's Note: the "baug" is a Parsi Colony - typically, a community enclosure) and colonies indulge more in extra religious worship). The magic appeal of miracles has disappeared from our faith. There are no longer personages like the revered Dasturji Kookadaru, who performed many a miracle and healed body and soul. However, such personages do exist in many other religions and thus attract the Parsis.

Homi is misty eyed before Iranshah, Udwada and would gladly sacrifice his life for his Agiyary. He regards himself as a pucca Zarthosti. However, he is equally lost in the religiously ecstatic Quawaals singing outside Ajmer Sharif and equally moved to devotional fervour while attending the Aarti at dawn in the Saibaba temple at Shirdi.

Castigating Homi and his ilk would be counterproductive and even drive some of them away from our Faith. The Fringe should realise this and keep its mouth shut.

- Parsiana, June 2014