Some Pics Of Navjote

Why read the Khordeh Avesta when we cannot understand it????

A common question from our youngsters today....... Why do we read the Khordeh Avesta even though we don't understand anything?This is beautiful story - if inspired please forward, else keep it .......can'tsay when it might inspire you! 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 readinghis Khordeh Avesta. His grandson wanted to be just like him and tried to imitate him in every way he could.One day the grandson asked, 'Grandpa! I try to read the Khordeh Avesta just like you but I don't understand it, and what I do understand I forget assoon as I close the book. What good does reading the Khordeh Avesta do?' The Grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and replied, 'Take this coal basket down to the river and bring me back abasket of water.'The boy did as he was told, but all the water leaked out before he got back to the house. The grandfather laughed a...

Can I?

Today, I finally decided to wait for her outside the office. I’ve been preparing myself for this scene for ages but never could bring myself to say it all cut and dry at her face. But, TODAY was THE DAY. When she came near me, I asked her to get on the bike with me. As usual she tried her best not to. She was always afraid of bikes. I knew that. Still I wanted her to give her a ride – that was the first thing in the plan I had for today. At last, I won the war of words and she got beside me. I could feel her tension whenever a turn or a speedbreaker came. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling when she clutched my shoulder whenever I overtook another vehicle. The next surprise for her was when we reached our destination. It was my favorite trekking place, not very far from town. As I expected, she didn’t want to climb down the small hill with me to the place I wanted to take her. Again, she had to agree. She was holding my hand too tight and was also shivering when I lead the way downhil...

LIFE IN A PARSI COLONY

LIFE IN A PARSI COLONY Forget 'Life in a Metro'. 'Life in a Parsi Colony' should be made into a movie! In Mumbai, you will unarguably find the largest concentration of Parsis in the community's many 'baugs', or exclusive residential areas where despite the illusionary calm there is, very often, simmering strife, racy rumours are perennially rife, and there is many a shrieking wife… Parsi women of a certain vintage are blessed with a booming voice box that often entertains an entire block with its blasting blah-blah, and it is not unusual for family quibbles and complaints to be broadcast aloud - not so much by design as by default because, 'dikra', what do you do when manic 'mumma' loses volume control? Then, in the 'baugs', you also have any number of aunties in their nightgowns, regally rechristened as 'gowns', and worn throughout the day, often even on errands in and around the baug, expanding their ample lungs and expendin...

Tanaz Kerawala

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