Just before sunset, five elderly men leave their homes in the Cyrus Minwalla Colony, the oldest settlement of Karachi’s Parsis, and sit themselves down on cement benches placed alongside a pavement.
None of them get into a conversation: two of them read the day’s newspapers, two others seem lost in thought, and the fifth stares at the structure on the opposite side of the boulevard, at the Tower of Silence, where Zoroastrians keep their dead for decomposition.
The group’s silence reflects the state of their colony, located in the East, between the Defence Housing Authority Phase 1 and Mehmoodabad. Built by Cyrus F Minwalla, then vice-president of the Karachi Cantonment Board, the colony used to be a bustling neighbourhood, but now it resembles an abandoned town.
It doesn’t look or sound like other localities of multi-generational communities where everyone knows everyone, and where they all share their joys, sorrows and burdens with one another.
The pervasive silence in the Cyrus Minwalla Colony is due to a majority of its residents migrating abroad. Those who have chosen to stay behind are mostly in their 60’s or 70’s.
A steady decline
In his 2005 book, titled ‘The Zoroastrian Diaspora: Religion and Migration’, John R Hinnells notes that in the decades leading up to Partition, there had been a steady increase in Sindh’s Parsi population, giving Karachi the fourth largest Parsi population in western India after Bombay, Surat and Navsari.
“After Partition the numbers initially increased further — in 1951 there were 5,018; but they began to decline in 1961 (4,685) until 1995, when there were 2,824 Parsis in Pakistan, 2,647 in Karachi.”
The Karachi Zarthosti Banu Mandal (KZBM), a community welfare organisation, states in its 2015 report that they had conducted the first complete survey of Pakistan’s Zoroastrians in 1995.
Supervised by Toxy Cowasjee, sister-in-law of columnist Ardeshir Cowasjee, they found that 2,831 Parsis lived across the country: 2,647 in Karachi, 94 in Lahore, 45 in Quetta, 30 in Islamabad and Rawalpindi, eight in Multan, and seven in Peshawar and other cities.
In its 2012 paper titled ‘The Zarathushti World — a Demographic Picture’, the Federation of Zoroastrian Associations of North America (Fezana) notes that Pakistan’s Zoroastrian population was 2,121 in 2004 and it declined by 21 per cent to 1,675 in 2012. Fezana also states that the percentage of non-Zoroastrian spouses increased from 2.4 per cent in 2004 to 2.6 per cent in 2012.
The 2015 edition of the A & T Directory, which carries details of all Pakistani Parsis, notes that the community’s population had reduced to 1,416 in the country: 1,359 in Karachi, 32 in Lahore, 16 in Rawalpindi, seven in Quetta and two in Multan.
Regarding the latest count of Pakistan’s Parsis, academic Dr Framji Minwalla told The News that the community has been reduced to 1,092, living in only Karachi, Lahore and Rawalpindi.
The reasons
“Just like the youth in every other community, people have left for higher education and better job opportunities and an overall higher standard of living,” Dilaira Dubash, a Parsi community member and former journalist who has also settled abroad, wrote in an email exchange with The News.
“Most progressive communities reach a stage when population control becomes their worst enemy. For Zoroastrians, it may ultimately lead to extinction. India launched the Jiyo Parsi campaign to curb the population decline and whether that’s a good move or a bad one, the point is they have taken note and they are doing something about it. In Pakistan, we wake up once a year to highlight the issue and then sleep over it.”
She said Zoroastrians can’t be confined to any state. “We have been wandering ever since we were forced to flee Persia. For Pakistan, saving its Zoroastrian population is a lost cause now. If an awareness program would have been initiated two decades ago, maybe there would have been some hope.”
Dr Minwalla said that in the next two decades there will be no Parsi anywhere in Pakistan, as almost the entire younger generation of the community has gone abroad with no plans to return.
“One can hardly find a young Parsi, particularly between the ages of 18 and 27, in Karachi. Moreover, the Karachi Parsi Anjuman Trust Fund helps couples under the age of 40 to emigrate from the country.”
He pointed out that the purist marriage law of Parsis is also one of the reasons behind the community’s declining population. He said that if a Parsi woman marries a non-Zoroastrian, she’ll be forced to leave the community and face other restrictions.
“For example, she won’t be permitted to participate in worship or social ceremonies. But if a Parsi man marries out of the community, his children will be accepted as Parsis but his wife won’t be allowed to participate in any religious or social activity.”
Writer Akhtar Balouch said that no one can become a Parsi, because it’s an ethnic identity. “A person can accept Zoroastrianism, but they will never be a bona fide Parsi.”
In the media
Despite being one of the smallest ethnic and religious communities in the country, Parsis organise many social gatherings and religious festivals, of which the most significant is Nowruz, the start of the Persian New Year.
Most of these events don’t get covered by the mainstream media. But for the past many years the KZBM has been publishing a monthly newsletter, titled ‘What’s On’, which covers these occasions as well as publishes profiles of notable Parsis from across the globe to highlight their achievements.
“Most of our events are community focused and small-scale and slip under the media radar which is running after bigger stories to cover,” said Dilaira. “Apart from that, the only time the media thinks about Zoroastrians is when it’s Navroze and you have to do a mandatory story to fill the pages.”
Contributions
Balouch said that the first elected mayor of Karachi, namely Jamshed Nusserwanjee Mehta, was a Parsi and is known as the founder of modern Karachi. “The community has established a number of hospitals, educational institutes, hotels and architectural relics that still add exclusiveness to Karachi’s historical landscape.”
They include the Mama Parsi schools, the NED (Nadirshaw Edulji Dinshaw) Engineering College, the DJ (Dayaram Jethmal) Science College, the BVS (Bai Virbaiji Soparivala) Parsi High School, the Dow Medical College, the Karachi Parsi Institute, the Goolbanoo & Dr Burjor Anklesaria Nursing Home, and the Metropole, Beach Luxury and Avari hotels.
Had the members of Pakistan’s Parsi community started leaving the country earlier, Karachi would have been deprived of its premier medical college, its most important engineering university, some of its remarkable schools and many of its major hotels and other landmarks.
One can’t help but wonder if we as a nation have failed our fellow Pakistanis, if we have played a role in their gradual departure, if we have been ungrateful for their myriad contributions to this country. Whatever the case may be, the Parsi community’s continued exit is a great loss for all of us.
Balasore, August 25 (LocalWire): The eastern state of Odisha is known for its culture, age-old traditions, temples and its indigenous people. People of all religions have called the state home although one community has only one family living here.
The lone Parsee family of the state has been enriching the cultural flavour without losing their own identity.
The Barjorjis residing in Balasore for near about a century is a prominent family with its fourth generation living under the same roof.
Talking about their past and the history of the family that settled in the state, the family members said a part of their community, had fled former Persia, present-day Iran, fearing persecution.
‘Our forefathers along with several of their friends fled Iran after the community was being forced to undergo conversion, we were told, They climbed aboard two boats and as one travelled towards Germany, the other sailed to India.
They initially settled in Bombay and Gujarat, then came to Balasore in search of a job,’ Hosei Bodhanwalla, the senior-most member of 15-member family said, adding further that even after 100 years they prefer to be known as Barjorjis.
‘We are close to the Gujarati culture. Our attire is almost similar to Gujaratis and although our language is Gujarati, our accent differs from the original (Gujarati), since we have been living in Balasore for generations.
We prefer non-vegetarian food and are the one and only Parsi family in the entire state of Odisha. Our relatives are in Kolkata, Mumbai, Gujarat and Jamshedpur.
Our marriage and social events are observed with them. Here, I and my brother and our children live under one roof,’ he added.
Rustamji Patel and B Barjorji, two brothers-in law, came to Balasore In late 1920s. While the former later settled in Jamshedpur, the latter settled here.
B Barjoji tried his luck in Balasore by selling soda lemon water door to door in a bullock cart and was nicknamed Paniwala Babu.
‘Slowly, the family gained prominence and introduced and brought several new things to Balasore.
They were the first to open fuel stations, liquor shops, arms and ammunition shops. The community is generally litigation-free,’ remarked an Octogenarian resident of Balasore.
The family now owns prominent hotels, restaurants and a petrol pump in Balasore town and is known as an established and reputed family, besides contributing towards social causes.
‘We are closer to Hindu religion although our religion is Zoroastrian.
We worship Fire as well as Sun as our prime gods.
We have sacred thread ceremonies both for male and female children which are conducted between 7 to 11 years.
We believe in disposing our dead bodies in the open, in the tower of silence, a specially-made structure on a height, so that it can feed other creatures especially the vulture but at rare occasions, like in Jamshedpur, they bury the bodies in a burial ground, These are the basic distinctions of our religion,’ the family members said.
‘One would definitely find a burning candle in each Parsee house.
We have the sacred fire burning still in Sanjan in Gujarat,’ said Malcolm Bodhanwalla, the younger brother of Hosie.
‘We are only 15 in Balasore and in India the Parsee’s number around 50,000- 60,000.
Our population is declining fast. In fact, we are becoming an endangered community,’ they said.
‘Both men and women love to work. We prefer late marriages and marry around 35-36 years and we restrict children to two.
In order to save our dwindling community, our Parsee panchayat appealed to us to go for a third child who would be the responsibility of the panchayat but our people didn’t show much interest,’ said Sarosh Bodhanwalla, the eldest son of Hosie Bodhanwalla.
‘When we arrived in India from Persia and sought shelter from the ruler of Saurashtra region, he had asked what this additional community would do for the country.
We had convinced him citing an example of sugar in tea.
If a cup of tea contains three spoons of sugar, an extra spoon would not spill the beverage but enhance the sweetness by blending into the tea. Since then our community across India has been fulfilling the commitment,’ they added.
Of the festivals the community celebrates, the prominent ones are Navroz (New year), Papetti (change of calendar) and Khordad Sal birth Zoroaster (Zarathustra) in the month of August, September and March respectively.
An old Parsi house in Navsari. Photo: Dinodia Photos/Alamy Stock Photo
I draw into Surat’s railway station on a claggy sort of evening; the sky is quiet, lidded with grey clouds, and the windows of our train fling soft squares of light onto the station platform. Surat itself though is chaotic, fizzing and vibrating with the energy of industry and the future. But we are not here for that.
Why are we here? I come to people the empty map I have drawn of my dwindling community, the Parsis. My parents have come to unearth the half-remembered archaeology of their past. We are here to grapple with the protean shapes of our faith.
The barest bones of our history can be summarised thus. The Zoroastrians lived circa 1,200 BC, spawning three great Persian empires—Achaemenians, Parthians and Sassanians. Upheaval came with the Arab invasion in the 7th Century, scattering the Zoroastrians as far away as India. A small, determined bunch brought with them the holy flame from the temples of Iran, settling first in Sanjan (where a commemorative pillar still stands), then seeping across Gujarat, finally onwards to Bombay and Calcutta.
The ‘stambh’ that marks the arrival of the first Parsis in Sanjan. Photo: Dinodia Photos/Alamy
But back to Surat. Not much remains of the city of my parents’ memories. Huge glass-fronted buildings have muscled out the tiny cottages that peopled Amroli, my mother’s native village on the outskirts of Surat. An aunt’s bungalow, collapsed into rubble, has now been exchanged with an office building. And yet there is Shahpore, with its leafy capillaried lanes, home to most of the city’s Parsis. An agiari in Amroli, tiny, windowless, locked; it sputters to life only when we enter. Larger, beautifully-kept fire temples in Surat. One is painted a sprightly yellow, a cautionary notice pasted to its door ‘Please keep door closed to avoid cat entry. Thank you.’ And, of course, there is Dotivala Bakery, purveyors of my father’s favourite ginger biscuits and Sosyo. (When the Dutch arrived in Gujarat in the 16th century, they brought with them art of baking bread, a tradition that was then passed on to the Parsi bakers they hired to work under them. The English eventually ousted the Dutch, but one of the bakers, Faramji Dotivala, continued baking.)
Then onwards to Udwada. Named for being a resting area for peripatetic camels (uth-vada), it is where the holy fire was moved to Udwada’s fire temple in 1742; perhaps our last physical link to the august glories of Persia’s dynasties. Splayed around the holy temple are low bungalows, recently restored, hung about with Portuguese elements like elaborate cornices and intricately-carved grilles (one even has the face of Queen Victoria worked into it).
The Modi Atash Behram in Udwada, Gujarat is the oldest Parsi Fire Temple in India. Photo: Dinodia Photos/Alamy Stock Photo
It isn’t a place for frenetic activity. There’s a pebbly beach girdling the village, with a fruiting of palm trees. There’s a sleepy museum. Around the village are a wash of chikoo and mango orchards. And there are its fusty dharamsalas, famed for their superb cooking—the offal-rich aleti paleti and khurchan, pulao dar, fried fish.
There is plenty to buy—papads beaded with garlic from the old lady hanging about the temple gates, batasa and nankhatai biscuits from the Udwada Irani cafe, beaded torans (garlands), homemade chikoo ice-cream from the vendor down the lane from the temple.
Being here feels like a peaceful excursion into the pages of history, rich with the sense of an alternative rural history unlike, say, the grand, leisured estates of Parsi merchants in Mumbai. Except in December when it shatters to life with the Udwada Utsav, with its heritage walks, skits, religious lectures and such, designed to tug the past into the vibrant present.
In Navsari the next day, where Parsis first settled in the 12th Century, we make our way to the oldest existing fire temple and seminary outside Iran; the vadi dar-e-mehr, consecrated between 1140-60. The grand atash behram nearby used to be the gloried repository of the holy fire for 200 years; today it is empty, populated only with antique clocks, beautiful ancient furniture, paintings fogged by the passage of time.
Aatash Behram at Navsari. Photo: Dinodia Photos/Alamy Stock Photo
We walk to Tarota Bazaar to peer at the beautifully-restored Dasturji Meherjirana Library (1872), hopscotching around the pylons and electric wires cross-hatching the footpaths. Outside, there is the familiar city clatter of wayward traffic. But within, there is only numinous silence. Photographs of venerable Parsi ancestors gaze upon weary old wooden chairs and antique bookshelves. One of the library’s great treasures is a firman, issued by Emperor Akbar to the great Parsi priest Meherjirana, and signed by the Mughal chronicler himself, Abu’l Fazl.
The Dasturji Meherjirana Library. Photo: Meher Mirza
Navsari is home to further monuments to memory—the houses of two of its favourite sons, Sir Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy and Sir Jamshedjee Tata. Born in the same neighbourhood, in very similar houses, both are now maintained as museums.
Close by is Yazdan Cold Drink House, and EF Kolah & Sons, purveyors of the cane vinegar and fish roe pickle that Navsari is famed for. But it is pooh-poohed roundly by my picky parents, who grumble about the fading away of the original Kolah store-owner, aapro Kersasp Kolah who sold, among other glories, ice-cream served in a special ice-cream glass. Instead, we make our way to Sorab Baug, where dad used to eat lunch every day, in the company of a chattering of young Parsis. Now there is only us, eating crisp-fried boi fish, curry chawal and kachumber.
We drive to Bharuch on our last day in Gujarat; now a throbbing modern city, but with faint remnants of its Parsi past. The pink and white Bai Motlabai Wadia School for girls. The bungalow of businessman Shapoorji Jambusarwala (converted to a school). Four imposing agiaris. The ancestral home of the illustrious Godrej clan.
A lane in Parsivad. Photo: Meher Mirza
Alas, its Parsivad, the once-magnificent Parsi neighbourhood has now receded into ghostly oblivion. Less than 100 Parsis now live here. We walk through its main street, a rutted cart-track that runs through dusty, unkempt mansions standing in empty silence. Thick with shadows, it is the loneliest, most poignant place I have ever seen.
But history, no matter how beguiling, is no panacea for the living. We walk on slowly, back to the thrum of modernity, back to life.
Come August 17 and the Parsi community in the city will gather at the 170-year-old Fire Temple in Secunderabad to celebrate New Year. The majestic structure standing tall on MG Road was built in 1847 and is spread over 11,000 square yards.
Recognised as a heritage structure by the erstwhile Hyderabad Urban Development Authority (Huda), the Fire Temple has a unique architecture resembling the Indo-European style with huge columns in the facade.
A mega winged symbol, Faravahar, welcomes the devout at the entrance of the temple. This symbol of Zoroastrianism is more than 4,000 years old and is also found in Egypt and what was ancient Mesopotamia. The symbol is commonly associated with the sun and the deities connected with it.
There is a sacred well on the premises of the temple, where a priest offers prayers. The 70-feet well brims with water all round the year. The devout also place burning candles at the mouth of the well.
“Fire occupies a prominent place in Zoroastrian eschatology. Zoroastrian priests take precautions to keep the fire alive throughout the year. Earlier, our community used sandalwood to keep the fire burning. But now we are using dry logs of babool as sandalwood has become expensive. Moreover, there is also restriction on the movement of sandalwood,” Capt KF Pestonji, president of Old Parsi Fire Temple Trust, told TOI.
They also take great pains to keep the consecrated holy fire immune from contamination. When tending to the fire, a cloth known as Padan is worn over the mouth and nose so that breath and saliva do not pollute the fire.
The community also takes good care of the temple structure, which was built was the brothers Pestonji Meherji and Viccaji Meherji. They were bankers and cotton traders who had been invited to Hyderabad by the Nizam and the temple is named after them.
The brothers, who made huge profits in their business, also built their residence beside the British Residency on Bank Street and their office at King Koti in the vicinity of the Nizam’s palace. Their residence today serves as the Government ENT Hospital.
Incidentally, Hyderabad has the second largest Parsi population in India after Mumbai and has two more fire temples apart from the one in Secunderabad. But on August 17, as many as 1,100 members of the community will gather at the Secunderabad temple at 7am to offer prayers. They will end the day with festivities at the Zoroastrian Club on SP Road.
On a dark and stormy night, a ship full of Zoroastrian refugees from Persia was lashed by the wind, rain and waves off the west coast of India. The refugees in the ship, fearful for their lives, prayed to Ahura Mazda and Behram Yazad (the Zoroastrian Angel of Victory) and promised to build a fire temple dedicated to him if they made landfall safely. They did, at the town of Sanjan, and were granted asylum by the local ruler, Jadi Rana. The descendants of these refugees are the Parsis of India.
The events referred to above are enshrined in a quasi-historical (Persian) Zoroastrian poem called the Kisseh-i-Sanjan (The Story of Sanjan) written in 1600 CE, roughly 800 years after their arrival. The Kisseh tells us that they stayed in Sanjan for 600 years and prospered till Sanjan was sacked by the forces of Sultan Mahmud (whom we think was Md Allauddin Khilji in 12298-99 AD) under his general Alf Khan.
The Parsis scattered to villages and towns where their kin had migrated from Sanjan but not before their sacred fire, the Iranshah, lit in memory of their travails and their motherland, was spirited away by priests first to the hills of Bahrot and then via Bansda and Navsari to Udwada, where its rests to this day. Thus the Parsi-Zoroastrians of India have two main places of pilgrimage– Bahrot and Udwada.
Medieval India sites on the western coast of South Asia|LHI
Embarking On A Mission
In 2002, Dr Homi Dhalla of the World Zarathushti Cultural Foundation, a Mumbai-based trust dedicated to documenting and preserving Parsi-Zoroastrian culture, requested the help of historian Prof Mani Kamerkar to help get the caves a protected status. Prof Kamerkar told Dr Dhalla that unless there was archaeological proof of the existence of the ancient town of Sanjan and its Parsi antecedents, there was no way to establish that a set of bare, rock-cut caves on a windswept hillock in nearby Bahrot were used by the Parsis to hide the Iranshah.
Prof Kamerkar roped in her friend, Dr Swaraj Prakash Gupta of the Indian Archaeological Society and they then applied to the Indian Council of Historical Research for a project, and to the Archaeological Survey of India for a licence.
I was selected as the Field Director (later Co-Director) of the excavations under the Directorship of Dr Gupta.
The excavations at Sanjan lasted three seasons – 2002-2003-2004 – at a site just 2km from the modern town. They revealed a large urban settlement on the banks of the Varoli Creek, roughly 2km x 1km in size and occupied from the very late 8th century CE to the first decade of the 14th century CE. The settlement included brick-built houses with ring wells for drainage and stone foundations. Many of the houses had square brick wells.
It was a revelation that contradicted what many Indian historians had believed was a period of urban decay and decline. Instead, they were looking at a very prosperous and flourishing city. The results exceeded anything the excavators had dreamt of!
From its very inception, Sanjan was a port. Excavations were first carried out near the bandaror port, then at the Koli Khadi, a creek that marks the site’s northern border, and finally at the bandar again. The bandar area revealed a domestic locality with large brick houses that had wells and ring wells alongside them. Glass bangles; beads of glass, terracotta and semi-precious stones; glass vessels, iron implements; and large quantities of ceramics, both local and foreign, were discovered.
Agate beads collected at Sanjan|Author
The Koli Khadi locus on the other side of the site revealed an industrial area with large, sunken terracotta troughs, burning activity and fragments of melted clay. Interestingly, it also revealed a large number of black and white agate beads. The final activity at the Koli Khadi locality was its use as a burial ground, from where the excavators exposed six human burials – two female, three male and one undetermined.
Sassanian Islamic Turquoise Glazed Ware|Author
Ceramics: Evidence of Trade
The occupation yielded a wide variety of West Asian ceramics and Chinese ceramics. Sassanian Islamic Turquoise Glazed Ware (TGW), sGraffito Ware, Tin Glazed Ware, Kashan Lustre Glazed Ware and Syrian Blue Glazed Ware – all from West Asian kilns – were found at Sanjan. Alongside the West Asian ceramics were Chinese Stoneware and Porcelains of the Yeuh and Qingbai type.
sGraffito Ware|Author
The Sassanian Islamic Turquoise Glazed Ware dates to between the 7th and 10th centuries CE; the Lustre Glazed Ware is dateable to the 9th century CE; the sGraffito Ware is a more precise ceramic marker, dateable to the period between 950 and 1050 CE; the Kashan Lustre Ware is even more precisely dateable, to between 1170 and 1220 CE;and the Syrian Blue Glazed Pottery is dated to between 1150 and 1250 CE. The Chinese ceramics too sate from the 10th to the 11th centuries CE.
Chinese Porcelains|Author
These ceramics were obvious markers of large-scale trade between West Asia and China, and the presence of West Asian and Chinese ceramics proved that West Asian merchants stopped by enroute to South East Asia and China, and also on the way back. This made Sanjan an important port and trading station during the Early Medieval Period.
There was also much local red and grey ware meant for everyday use. The bandar area also surprised the team by revealing a large quantity of imported glass vessel fragments and identifiable glassware from West Asia. Very little glassware had been encountered at any excavation prior to Sanjan.
Coins Help Date The Site
Alongside the ceramics of foreign origin, excavators found a wide variety of coins in silver and copper. Sadly, most of the copper coins were too weathered to decipher. The silver coins had fared much better and the excavators were able to identify many of them. These include the first-ever (cut fraction) of an Abbasid Dinar (of Caliph Haroun al Rashid 786-809 CE) found in an excavation in India; the first coins of Rashtrakuta Emperor Amoghavarsha (814-878 CE); coins of the Amir of Sindh dating to between 870 and 1030 CE; local Gadhayia coins (9th to 11th centuries CE); and coins of the Yadavas of Deogiri (12th and 13th centuries CE). Alongside these coins were also seen some well-worn coins of the Guptas (4th and 5th centuries CE) which were essentially continuations in currency way past their times.
Copper coins included surface finds of Maratha Shivrai (17th to 18th century CE), and in the uppermost layer at Koli Khadi, a coin of Allauddin Khilji (1296-1316 CE). This vast array of coins not only helps us date the site but also tells us about the mercantile influences and trading partners of the people who lived here as well as the long duration that this site reigned as an important trading entrepot.
The Glassware is all 10th-12th century CE and mainly from West Asia. Collectively, the dates sync firmly with those offered by the Kisseh – late 8th century CE to the end of the 13th century CE. We know that Allauddin Khilji, whose first name was Mahmud, sent his army under his General Alf Khan between 1297 and 1299 AD to capture Deogiri, the Yadava capital, and we know that he took the coastal route.
Proof of Parsi Occupation
In season three, in 2004, the team excavated a Parsi mortuary structure called a dokhma by the Parsis and a bhastu by the locals. This structure, known in English as a ‘Tower of Silence’, is a circular, walled structure open to the sky, with a platform within it for placing the bodies of the dead, and a dry well at the centre for leftover osseous remains. This structure was absolute proof of Parsi occupation at the site. Human bones from its last use were still found in situ. DNA recovered from these bones confirmed the Parsi presence. This was the first Early Medieval DNA from a clan endogamous group studied in India. The West Asian coin, glassware and ceramics were further comparative/conjectural evidence of the existence and residence of the Parsis here.
Plan of the Dokhma at Sanjan|Author
The finds at Sanjan date from the 8th century CE to the 13th century CE and point to a period of thriving commerce between the 10th and 12th centuries CE. The site is also littered with remnants of one or more Shilahara/Rashtrakuta temples, and structural and sculptural members are found all over the site and in nearby modern shrines.
Shilahara Yadava Temple Fragment (Gajathara)|Author
Sanjan is mentioned in the Chinchani Copper Plates of the Rashtrakutas (telling us that this was an important urban settlement), the Shilaharas and the Modhas, who ruled a small principality with Sanjan as its most probable capital. It is also mentioned as ‘Sindan’ in the writings of Arab writers al Biladuri, Ibn Haukal, al Ishtakari and al Masudi. They date between the 9th and 12th centuries CE and deal mostly with political organisation, transit times, and the goods sold and bought at various west coast ports in India. They regularly mention Sanjan and the materials shipped from this port to the Persian Gulf.
Shilahara Yadava Sculpture|Author
There is also a Persian account by Buzurg ibn Shahriar al Ram Hurmuzi who, in his short story collection Kitab Ajiab al-Hind, refers to the wondrous goods coming from Sanjan and Chaul (on the coast of modern-day Raigad in Maharashtra) in 919 CE. According to these texts, wood and bamboo (from the nearby Bansda forests) were among the main exports from Sanjan, and this was true till as recently as 50 years ago, according to living memory.
Comparative Dating via the coins|Author
Sanjan was thus no small rural settlement, home to a tiny band of refugees, but a flourishing commercial centre that did brisk trade as a part of the West Asian Trade route to China and back. It had ships loading wood and bamboo and unloading all kinds of exotic foreign wares. The people were of multiple denominations, and Hindus, Muslims and Parsis all flourished here. In fact, the Rashtrakutas even appointed a ‘tajik’ governor called Mohammed (so says one of the Chinchani Copper Plates)! This flourishing settlement saw its heyday between the 10th and 12th centuries CE and continued in a less lively manner to be a part of Western Indian trade with West Asia till much later.
Comparative dating via the Ceramics|Author
Fate of Medieval Sanjan
According to the Kisseh, “600 years after the establishment of Sanjan, Islam came once again.” And Sanjan was besieged. The Kisseh says that Sanjan was destroyed by the invading armies of Sultan Mahmud under his General Alf/Ulugh Khan. While there are many contenders for the name ‘Sultan Mahmud’ and many had a general called ‘Alf Khan’ (a title meaning ‘First Among Khans’), Md Allauddin Khilji and his general Alf Khan were the first such combination to reach Gujarat and perhaps this is why the Kisseh has no other identifying nomenclature.
Sanjan was sacked after a brief two-day battle, which saw a spirited defence on the first day, giving the Parsi priests enough time to escape to the Bahrot Hills with the Iranshah. On day two, the Islamic army was victorious and Sanjan was sacked.
Thus ended the story of Sanjan, and the epicentre of Parsiana moved to Navsari, but that is another story for another day.
West Asian glass bottles|Author
However, there’s much more. After the publication of the excavated data (from 2004-2018), a host of hitherto unknown Early Medieval sites has been identified on the west coast of South Asia. These sites were thus most definitely coterminous and were a part of the trading network along with Sanjan. Their identification has been possible due to the corpus created by the team at Sanjan i.e. the ceramic and numismatic sequences and the West Asian Glassware. Where we once knew only of Banbhore in Sindh and Mantai in Sri Lanka, we now have a list of more than 18 confirmed sites (of the early medieval period on the west coast of South Asia), and every year, archaeologists are adding more. This then is the true contribution of the Sanjan excavations.
Percy Wadia, a staff member of the library told the Free Press Journal that they have around 3, 000 members as the regular visitors to the library before the Metro work began.
Jamshetjee Nessarwanjee Petit Institute and Library at Fort (JN Petit Institute) is witnessing fewer visitors due to the ongoing Colaba-Bandra-SEEPZ (Metro-3) work.
Percy Wadia, a staff member of the library told the Free Press Journal that they have around 3, 000 members as the regular visitors to the library before the Metro work began.
Nowadays, only students from nearby colleges visit the library and use the reading room.
“Ever since the Metro authorities barricaded the area, especially near the library’s entrance, a lot of senior citizens, the members of this library, have stopped coming.
They are inconvenienced. We are witnessing a 50 per cent drop in footfall. Although the Metro officials assured of removing the barricades six months ago, nothing has been done so far,” Wadia remarked.
Interestingly, to preserve the ancient Neo-Gothic structure, JN Petit has received Asia-Pacific award from the UNESCO in 2015. The library
has about 90,000 books, including the ones of an era around 1660AD. Moreover, old scripts of the Zoroastrian community are also there. Several religious books in Sanskrit, Persian and Gujarati are available.
Besides, as the library has several old study material, a lot of researchers from India and abroad visit this place. However, due to the ongoing Metro work and constant noise due to drilling and tunnelling, the readers show little interest, another staff member of the library asserted.
Though the library has a huge reading room decorated with stained glass windows and portraits of the Petit family, giving a perfect atmosphere of reading, people have stopped coming due to the noise. “We have readers, who used to come early at 7 am.
Now, we don’t see them coming here regularly. Instead, they insist on collecting the issued library books from their homes. We have no option, but to send our staff to collect the books,” he added.
All attempts to contact the officials of the Mumbai Metro Rail Corporation (MMRCL), undertaking the Metro-3, proved futile.
Photojournalist Mobeen Ansari has spent close to a decade capturing facets of the Parsis — a community that has contributed immensely to the building of Pakistan
Walking around Jamshed Baugh, a quiet Parsi neighbourhood in Karachi, photojournalist Mobeen Ansari spotted an elderly woman sitting on her porch, lost in thoughts. In her bright pink frock, a wrinkled palm cradling her serene face, Mobeen thought she was a perfect candidate for a portrait shot. Just as he was about to click her picture, their eyes met. She noticed the camera in his hand and rushed inside her house, only to come out with a metal rod.
A thousand words: Vignettes of the life, rituals and festivals of the Parsi community in Pakistan – IMAGES COURTESY: MOBEEN ANSARI
“I thought she would throw it at me or beat me up with it. But to my surprise she started banging the railing next to a door with it. Out of nowhere a clowder of 30 cats came running to her,” Ansari tells this correspondent during a meeting in Dubai earlier this year and later in an email interview. That heartening image of Perin Keikobad, a retired Pakistani banker who now spends most of her time feeding and looking after stray cats, found a place in the lensman’s book Dharkan: The Heartbeat of a Nation published in 2013.
By featuring her Ansari not just paid tribute to Perin’s unsung act but also found an opportunity to get to know the small yet significant Parsi community of Pakistan. Followers of Zoroastrianism, an ancient religion from Persia, the Parsis of Pakistan are mostly based in the port city of Karachi. Builders of some of the oldest hospitals, educational institutions and hotels of the city, there are only around 1,000 Parsis living in Pakistan today.
Through his lens Ansari (32), also a film-maker, artist and trekker based in Islamabad, has been capturing facets of this dwindling community of people in the country for over nine years now. Besides Perin, one of the first people he photographed for Dharkan was the late Ardeshir Cowasjee — a fearless Parsi journalist, who was fondly called ‘The Grand Old Man of Karachi’.
“When I photographed him in the summer of 2010, I did not have much of a portfolio. I had not conceptualised the book Dharkan and it was still a photo series. After I gave prints of the shoot to Ardeshir, he encouraged me to expand it into a book,” says Ansari, who lost most of his hearing ability to meningitis when he was three weeks old, a disability that he believes helped him understand what it means not to be a part of a majority.
His first book Dharkan presented portraits of iconic and ordinary heroes of Pakistan who shaped the country. It featured yet another Parsi, the celebrated author Bapsi Sidhwa, who was raised in Lahore. Impressed by young Ansari’s zeal to build tolerance by photographing minority communities, she helped him launch his book in the US. “We became very close friends. On the book she signed — to my adopted son,” Ansari says.
Over the years, as Ansari’s friendship with Cowasjee and Sidhwa grew, he was introduced to more Parsis. Invitations to dinners, weddings and other celebrations started pouring in. “These friends would alert me about important events on the Parsi calendar and I would fly in to Karachi to capture them. When the Parsi high priest Berjise Bhada became a close friend, I accompanied him to religious ceremonies at Agyaris (fire temples) and at Parsi homes,” he says.
A series of photo shoots followed. Ansari photographed the lighting of a fire urn, a thanksgiving ritual performed before the start of an auspicious occasion, and a table readied for Navroz, the Parsi New Year. He photographed a young couple exchanging rings surrounded by the priest and family members, the men dressed in traditional white dagli (overcoat) and feta (black hat). Some of these images eventually found their way into Ansari’s second book — White in the Flag. Published in 2017, it depicts the lives and festivities of religious minorities of Pakistan.
Although Ansari discovered the Parsi community intimately through his friends only in his 20s he had been hearing stories about them right from his childhood. While growing up he had heard several anecdotes about the community from his grandmother, whose best friend was her classmate Rubyna Colombowalla, a Parsi. The two were in school together in Jabalpur in pre-Partition India. Ansari’s grandmother kept in touch with Rubyna even after she migrated to Pakistan but stopped writing letters because of tensions between the two nations.
The photo series is also an ode to the people who contributed immensely to building Pakistan. The most notable contributions of the Parsis in Karachi are the Mama Parsi schools, Nadirshaw Eduljee Dinshaw University of Engineering and Technology, BVS (Bai Virbaiji Soparivala) High School, Parsi General Hospital, Avari Towers and Luxury Hotels.
But young Parsis have now migrated to other countries for higher education, job opportunities and for security reasons. According to the 2015 edition of the A&T Directory, which carries details of Parsis in Pakistan, there were only 1,416 Parsis left in Pakistan. The number, as reported by The News International in April 2019, has dwindled further to 1,092. “It is really sad that the first monotheistic religion in the world is facing extinction. Unfortunately, its followers in Pakistan are ageing today and due to migration only the middle aged are left behind,” says Natasha Mavalvala, who works with the Saudi Arabian Airlines in Pakistan and is closely involved with the Karachi Zarthosti Banu Mandal, a Parsi women’s welfare organisation.
Mavalvala, who features in Ansari’s book White in the Flag, recalls how the photographer inundated her with questions about Parsi culture and traditions. “I have never answered so many questions regarding my community or my religion,” she says. “Through his photographs, Ansari has captured the essence of our culture. As a community we tend to keep a low profile. But this nation was built by the Parsis and we are proud to have been the forerunners,” she says.
Tessy Koshy is an independent journalist based in Dubai
The British Library is fortunate in having an unparalled collection of over 100 Zoroastrian works ranging from the oldest, the ninth century Ashem Vohu prayer written in Sogdian script discovered by Aurel Stein in Central Asia in 1907, to, most recently, manuscripts collected especially for the Royal Society in London during the late-nineteenth century. Although Zoroastrianism is Iranian in origin, most of our manuscripts in fact come from India. They are written in Avestan (Old Iranian), Middle Persian, New Persian, and also in the Indian languages Sanskrit and Gujarati.
In the past few years several of our manuscripts have become familiar through exhibitions such as Everlasting Flame: Zoroastrianism in History and Imagination held at SOAS (2013) and New Delhi (2016) and also through the Zoroastrian articles and collection items included in our recent website Discovering Sacred Texts. Building on this and thanks to the philanthropic support of Mrs Purviz Rusy Shroff, we have now been able to complete digitisation of the whole collection. This introductory post outlines the history of the collection and is intended as the first in a series highlighting the collection as the manuscripts go live during the next few months.
One of the holiest Zoroastrian prayers, the Ashem vohu, discovered at Dunhuang by Aurel Stein in 1907. Transcribed into Sogdian (a medieval Iranian language) script, this fragment dates from around the ninth century AD, about four centuries earlier than any other surviving Zoroastrian text (BL Or.8212/84). Public domain
The collection is made up of three main collections described below, dating from the seventeenth, the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries, in addition to individual items acquired by British travellers to India and employees of the East India Company. I’ll be writing more about these individual collections in future posts.
Thomas Hyde (1636–1703)
Our oldest collection, and the earliest to reach the West, was acquired for the seventeenth century polymath Thomas Hyde. Hyde became Laudian Professor of Arabic at the University of Oxford in 1691 and Regius Professor of Hebrew in 1697 and also served as Royal Secretary and Translator of Oriental Languages for three successive monarchs: Charles II, James II and William III. While he had never travelled in the East himself, he built up a network of travellers and East India Company officials whom he asked to purchase books and manuscripts on his behalf. Several of these were chaplains whom Hyde had personally recommended to the Levant and the East India trading companies. After his death in 1703 part of his collection was purchased by Queen Anne for the Royal Library. It was subsequently given to the British Museum by King George III in 1757.
A copy of the Khordah Avesta (‘Little Avesta’) which contains prayers, hymns and invocations. This manuscript begins with the Ashem vohu (featured also in Sogdian script above) and is dated 30 Ardibihisht 1042 in the era of Yazdagird (1673). It was copied at the request of the English Agent Kunvarji Nanabhai Modi probably on commission for Hyde. Hyde could read though never wholly understood Avestan, but he used this particular manuscript as a model for the special Avestan type he created for his well-known History of the Persian Religion published in 1700 (BL Royal Ms 16.B.vi, f. 1r). Public domain
Samuel Guise (1751-1811)
Samuel Guise began his career as a Surgeon on the Bombay Establishment of the East-India Company in 1775 and from 1788 until the end of 1795, he was Head Surgeon at the East-India Company’s Factory in Surat where his work brought him into close contact with the Parsi community. An avid collector, he acquired altogether more than 400 manuscripts while in India. At some point he was fortunate enough to be able to purchase from his widow, the collection of the famous Dastur Darab who had taught the first translator of the Avesta, Anquetil du Perron, between 1758 and 1760 (Guise, Catalogue, 1800, pp. 3-4):
This Collection was made at Surat, from the year 1788 till the End of 1795, with great Trouble and Expence. … Of this Collection, however rich in Arabick and Persian works of Merit, the chief Value consists in the numerous Zend and Pehlavi MSS treating of the antient Religion and History of the Parsees, or Disciples of the celebrated Zoroaster, many of which were purchased, at a very considerable Expence, from the Widow of Darab, who had been, in the Study of those Languages, the Preceptor of M. Anquetil du Perron; and some of the Manuscripts are such as this inquisitive Frenchman found it impossible to procure
In 1796 he retired to Montrose, Angus, where he lived until his death in 1811. The story of his collection and what subsequently happened to it is told in my article “The strange story of Samuel Guise: an 18th-century collection of Zorostrian manuscripts,” but eventually in 1812, 26 Zoroastrian manuscripts were acquired at auction by the East India Company Library. They include one of the oldest surviving Avestan manuscripts, the Pahlavi Videvdad (‘Law to drive away the demons’), a legal work concerned with ritual and purity which was copied in 1323 AD (Mss Avestan 4). Other important manuscripts are a copy of the liturgical text, the Videvdad sādah (Mss Avestan 1), attributed to the fifteenth century, and one of the oldest copies of the Yasna sādah – the simple text of the Yasna ritual without any commentary– (Mss Avestan 17).
Verses 6-7 of Yasna 43 on the creation of the universe. The red floral decorations are verse dividers and are a feature of this manuscript. This copy was completed in India in 1556 (BL Mss Avestan 17, f. 128r). Public domain
Burjorji Sorabji Ashburner
Burjorji Ashburner was a successful Bombay merchant, a Freemason, and a member of the Bombay Asiatic Society. He was also a member of the Committee of Management for one of the most important Zoroastrian libraries in Bombay, the Mulla Firuz Library and made a special point of having copies made of some of the rarer items. In April 1864 Burjurji wrote offering some 70 to 80 volumes as a gift to the Royal Society, London, promising to add additional ones:
In the course of antiquarian researches…with special reference to the Parsee religion, I have had the good fortune to obtain some valuable ancient manuscripts in Zend, Pehlui, and Persian. I do not wish to keep to myself what may be useful in the literary world. [1]
His collection consisted of standard Arabic and Persian works in addition to nineteen specifically Zoroastrian manuscripts in Persian, Avestan and Pahlavi. A number of Bujorji’s manuscripts came originally from Iran. The oldest is an illustrated copy of the Videvdad sādah (RSPA 230) which was copied in Yazd, Iran, in 1647. Whereas Zoroastrian manuscripts are generally unillustrated except for small devices such as verse dividers and occasional diagrams, this one, exceptionally, contains seven coloured drawings of trees, used as chapter headings not unlike Islamic manuscripts of the same period.
The beginning of chapter 19 of the Videvdad sadah in which Zoroaster repels an attempt on his life by the demon Buiti, sent by the evil spirit Angra Mainyu. Note the elongated calligraphic script which is typical of the older manuscripts from Iran (BL RSPA 230, f. 227r). Public domain
Several of Bujorji’s manuscripts were copied or written by Siyavakhsh Urmazdyar an Iranian poet and writer living in Bombay in the mid-nineteenth century. His poetical name was Azari, but he was otherwise known as Sarfahkar Kirmani or Irani. These include works in Persian on the calendar (the subject of a major controversy at the time), a dictionary, treatises on divination and the interaction between Zoroastrians and Muslims, in addition to copies of Avestan texts.
Other sources
The remaining manuscripts were acquired in India, mostly by East India Company servants Jonathan Duncan Governor of Bombay (1756–1811), Sir John Malcolm (1769–1833), and the Scottish linguist and poet John Leyden (1775-1811). They range from the sixteenth to the nineteenth centuries.
The beginning of the Qissah-i Sanjan, the traditional story in Persian verse of the settlement of the Parsis in India composed by Bahman ibn Kayqubād at Nausari in AD 1600. This copy is undated but was written, most probably for John Leyden, on paper watermarked 1799 (BL IO Islamic 2572, f. 1v). Public domain
TO practice conservation in Mumbai, one must be lucky to have the right client who understands and sympathizes with the word ‘conservation’. I was fortunate to have one such client, the Garib Zarthostiona Rehethan Fund, a benevolent trust looking after the low/middle income group, residential housing needs of the Parsi community.
Unusually, this trust believed in repairing and maintaining a heritage property rather than in demolition and redevelopment, and in doing so, bearing the entire cost of the repair and not burdening the tenants with the costs, this being the ideal professional as well as legal position. The trust owns about 50 such unloved, under-appreciated but definitely ‘heritage’ buildings in Mumbai city, scattered around Central and South Mumbai, as part of various community housing schemes which were prevalent in the 19th century. Working with this trust for the past five years, I have been responsible for the conservation of at least a dozen buildings, which has given me deeper insights as to how easy and cost effective it is to repair as against the rampant unquestioned redevelopment mantra being currently practised in Mumbai.
Working on this project has reinforced for me the age-old conviction that it is usually more economical and wiser to repair rather than reconstruct or redevelop. It helps in reviving the lost skills and craftsmanship of various artisans; retains the socio-cultural relationship and harmony between people and place, and does not burden the fragile century-old urban infrastructure. Such a resource saving approach is the need of the hour for Mumbai, which in the absence of good planning and development guidelines, is on a rampant path of insensitive redevelopment.
A High Court interim order of February 2014 has reaffirmed that the Grade III and other buildings in the precincts from seeking redevelopment under section DCR 33(6-10) need not seek approval from the MHCC (Mumbai Heritage Conservation Committee). As a result, we will see a lot more redevelopment rather than repair of old buildings in the heritage precincts. The Lal Chimney Compound conservation is thus an important case study to demonstrate to the government and citizens of Mumbai what effective repairs can do, and hope this leads to a policy that incentivizes repair of heritage structures over their demolition, followed by insensitive redevelopment.
Mumbai faces an acute shortage of affordable housing. As an island city, land is limited and the monetary value of available land is amongst the highest in the world. Rental housing that was prevalent till the 1960s and ’70s was able to fulfil the demand. However, when the rental system was stopped and ownership of flats started, the affordable housing stock was badly hit, changing the dynamics of the city from community to class dominated housing. Comparatively speaking, no other city in the country has such an acute shortage of affordable housing, which is a matter of grave concern for Mumbai’s future.
Historically, in the late 19th century, affordable housing was provided for cotton mill workers by the mill owners. Later, the City Improvement Trust provided similar single room tenements with common service facilities (e.g., the BDD chawls) in areas around the mills, in what is now considered central Mumbai. This trend continued till the mid-20th century into the suburbs where land was relatively cheaper. With the advent of the cooperative housing society model in the late 1960s, the availability of rental accommodation declined.
Lal Chimney ariel view post restoration
One of Mumbai’s major drawbacks is its frozen rents since 1944 (after World War II) due to the Rent Control Act. As a result, about 19000 tenanted buildings, now nearly a century old, are completely neglected and ill-maintained. This constitutes the bulk of the inner city’s building stock. Many of these buildings are in extremely poor condition with some even having collapsed, resulting in loss of lives, while others are in various stages of dilapidation. Not surprisingly, people do not want to stay in such buildings. But as the rents are very low (due to the Rent Control Act), the tenants prefer to lock their premises, anticipating redevelopment at some later stage. In the process they block access to these affordable houses for others. The government has refrained from altering or abolishing the Rent Control Act, as it fears losing out on popular vote banks. Consequently, these buildings have deteriorated with every passing decade.
What has worsened the already existing dismal situation is the recent change of rules that now give unjustifiable incentives for demolition and redevelopment over repairs. With a higher FSI (Floor Space Index) available for redevelopment schemes, an external private developer is now involved in redevelopment. The redeveloped buildings are cooperative societies, charging market based maintenance rates and taxes after redevelopment, which the original tenants often cannot afford. Hence, they are pushed to areas that are at the periphery of the city. In the process, they lose their moorings and base, which is undesirable, as eventually ‘people make places’. The new flats in the redeveloped buildings are sold to the more affluent, resulting in an increase of unaffordable housing stock. The builders reap super-profits while urban density increases significantly, leading to a poorer quality of life and infrastructure that just cannot cope with an increase in loads.
Let us now look at the conservation of the Lal Chimney Compound. The goal of this project was to make the government consider offering incentives equivalent to the cost of comprehensive repairs as additional FSI or TDR (Transfer of Development Rights) to landlord and tenants. This would significantly prolong the life of the existing building stock in the city until the next development plan of Mumbai is prepared, within two decades. At the insistence of tenants, the repairs and restoration undertaken in the Lal Chimney Compound case were of a high standard and quality. The vacant flats of these repaired buildings were rented out again, thus creating affordable housing stock (which is the need of the hour) for the city from amongst existing resources.
The Parsi’s are one of the more affluent communities in the country that has shown concern about the housing needs of its people. It has constructed baugs (gated colonies with garden) for the more affluent members of the community as seen in South Mumbai. Among other examples are Cusrow Baug and Rustom Baug. It has also built entire colonies like the Dadar Parsi Colony which was part of the Town Planning Scheme for middle income members of the community. This colony is designed with adequate open spaces, i.e., five gardens. Lastly, several compounds or cluster of buildings (like a complex) were built for the less fortunate members. The former two types of community housing are looked after by the Bombay Parsi Punchayat Trust (BPPT), the second largest individual private landowner of properties in Mumbai after the Mumbai Port Trust (MPT).
This compound is looked after by the Garib Zarthostiona Rehethan Fund (GZRF), which was also responsible for building the Lal Chimney Housing Complex. The Lal Chimney complex was the second such colony to be restored in Mumbai, the first being the Sethna, Gamadiya, Patel and Dadyseth buildings off Wadia Street, demonstrating the commitment of the trust towards the well-being of its tenants and colonies.
In Marzban Colony, the Lal Chimney building complex is a modest example of good community housing of the late 19th and early 20th century in Mumbai. The complex takes one back to an era when a simple life took precedence over pretence, and where beauty was evident in the tiny details as seen in the excellent craftsmanship that was then the established standard of work. These buildings were not listed as heritage buildings or precincts when their repair work commenced in 2009.
The complex is located in front of Nair Hospital in Mumbai Central (East) and is set within a cluster of five buildings which are similar in scale, mass and volume. This entire stretch on Dr Nair Road had a similar building stock, all for housing, and broadly for three communities – the Bohris (Muslim), the Parsis and the Christians. The compound has a rear secondary street which serves as a service alley. This area was well laid out, with gardens and open grounds, and remains one of the better planned areas on the outskirts of the inner city.
The ground plus two storey structures are bilaterally symmetrical in planning. The neighbourhood still affords a picturesque view in spite of the new residential towers that have sprung up, thereby completely eroding the urban design characteristics of this road. A vibrant mix of generations live here: old couples, families, young kids and middle aged adults form a thriving and lively community. A sense of community, which is rarely seen in today’s high rise buildings, is still prevalent here owing to its architecture and urban design.
The buildings are plain functional residential buildings with vernacular, teak perforated parapets and the finer façade details like a cornice running around decorative mouldings on windows, flower motifs, etc. which ornament the old buildings. The roof is tiled and a string course runs at some floor levels, and the common passages have decorative wooden railings and louvred ventilators, adding to the architectural charm of the buildings.Though the buildings are not particularly significant for their architectural style, they remain good examples of architecture, urban design, town planning and a precinct that has an overall character with mass and scale and an interactive community system.
All five buildings follow the same construction methodology. The main structure consists of brick load bearing external walls that have a thickness of 16 to 20 inches and the construction of slab is a jack arch with steel joist supports. In the kitchen area and some rooms, the slabs have been strengthened by the addition of steel support perpendicular to the direction of hidden I-sections. However, no reconstruction of slab was ever carried out. The balcony or verandah or passage has teak posts and beams. The plinth is made up of basalt stone and the staircase is wooden. The top floor has teak trusses below the rafters/purlins and on them lay the teak boarding, with a tiled roof above.
In the 1970s when most of the tenantable building stock in Mumbai was approximately 70 years old, and the occupants started to demand repairs, the government started a housing repair board, Mumbai Housing Area Development Authority, and introduced a cess or repair fund to counter the problems associated with the Rent Act. This fund was to be used to repair these residential tenanted buildings by replacing the decayed or damaged area and materials; for example, wood which was expensive, was to be replaced with steel. The objective of setting up of this fund was good, but unfortunately the government did not insist on adherence to principles of conservation while undertaking repair, principles such as minimum intervention, using materials that were similar to the original, etc., as conservation as a discipline and practice had not yet emerged in India.
As a result it was seen that maximum intervention was done, and even good condition building-fabric was shown as waste and removed, starting a parallel business of selling good timber material salvaged from old buildings. The steel used did not last long, and it was seen that the building deteriorated faster with such repairs. However, the only good point of such insitu repairs was that density remained constant, building scale and mass was maintained and there was no additional load on the fragile infrastructure.
After a decade or two it became the trend to reconstruct the entire building on the same footprint, and this resulted in formalizing the salvage racket where good wood was sold and replaced with steel that required frequent repairs. The buildings were completely deprived of their architectural character. However, the positive was that the tenants remained and building mass and scale was retained.
After another decade, i.e. 1990-2000, the trend shifted and the MHADA started reconstructing the buildings themselves by following the accepted by-laws of the city. They got a marginally higher FSI to recover the cost of construction. However, with the involvement of government agencies, expectedly, the construction quality deteriorated and many of these buildings are once again in a some-what poor condition within a couple of decades itself, and are awaiting reconstruction again with higher FSI. It is a pity that the government did not increase the cess fund (presently Rs 2000/sq mt approx) and never insisted on retaining as much of its original fabric as possible by using similar materials.
By the turn of the last century, private players were roped in for redevelopment and the tenants were provided larger areas as per minimum standards (350 sq ft), and as a result, the FSI was increased to meet construction costs. An additional area was given as sale component and present by-laws were followed that provided for setbacks, basement and podium parking free of FSI. This development has resulted in eroding the gently woven cultural fabric and street life, which was the strength of the inner city. The podium-height kept increasing as individual towers capitalized on selling flats offering the best views of the city, while sadly forgetting that the next old cessed building to be redevelop would also go up to the same height. Soon, all we will have are dark alleys and left over spaces in between towers instead of streets.
Out of approximately 19000 cessed properties in Mumbai, a large number are owned by trusts who provide community housing. Hence, this small step taken by the Garib Zarthostiona Rehethan Fund Trust can be a giant one in retaining Mumbai’s unloved, under-appreciated buildings, thereby saving the city from the infrastructure pressures and in enhancing the quality of life.
Lal Chimney prior to restoration
The methodology followed by the Lal Chimney Compound conservation was as follows. For a few buildings which underwent extensive structural repairs, the tenants were shifted into other community housing colonies for a brief period (3-4 months) unlike the redevelopment module where people are shifted for a few years. This is often inconvenient to the elders of the community who have an emotional bonding and need to be in the place where they have lived long years.
Change is inevitable, but the present redevelopment trend only benefits the developer and does no good for the city. Hence, the approach of repair followed in the Lal Chimney Compound can be used until a new redevelopment scheme with proper planning and infrastructure, that will benefit the city first, is initiated. The repair philosophy adopted was to retain as much of the original fabric as possible, thereby saving on resources as well as making it economical.
The amazing advantage of restoring wooden buildings is that they can be strengthened insitu by replacing the decayed area or by flitching it. In the end it was heartening to see that even the few tenants who were disgruntled at the prospect of repairs, were satisfied and happy when the entire restoration was over, as they got an upgraded colony. Most importantly, they did not have to contribute even marginally as the trust bore all the expenses of repairs.
Such an approach, if used for all cessed properties in Mumbai, can actually transform the city heritage or inner city, and add to vibrant economical areas while offering affordable housing to the needy. The work started with comprehensive structural repairs to one such building, i.e. Wadia building in the year 2009. After its successful completion, four other buildings in the same colony, which had earlier undergone internal repairs, were also restored externally as the tenants/residents demanded it; thereby one entire complex got restored, leading to its rejuvenation as well as that of its surroundings. For the residents, their existing lifestyle and social interaction continued uninterrupted. No additional pressure was created on the fragile infrastructure of the city (water supply, sanitation, drainage, electrical load and cars) due to the repairs and restoration.
Mumbai was the first city in India to enact heritage legislation in 1995 and has listed about 624 properties and 14 precincts. The Lal Chimney Compound property was not listed individually or under a precinct. However, in 2012 a draft list, initially of additional structures, was published, and the compound has now been listed as Grade III. In the subsequent modification made in 1999 by the government, cessed properties in Grade III and in precincts are now exempted from the purview of the heritage legislation. Thus we see the mushrooming of high rise in heritage precincts, despite so-called heritage protection under the law. The proposed draft list of 2012 is yet to be finalized and its fate will be decided depending on the public hearings. However, in a recent interim judgment, the Bombay High Court has opened the floodgates for redevelopment as Grade III buildings have been removed from purview of the heritage committee, leaving it to monitor only grade I and II buildings.
Time has taken its toll in some areas of the Lal Chimney Compound buildings that underwent piecemeal and ill-informed repairs in the past. It was also noticed that many tenants had themselves carried out repairs, additions and alterations, thereby changing the uniformity and the look of the building. Additions like box grills and projection of areas in the front open space were seen in some buildings, such as the Dadachandji building.
The lack of regular maintenance, ageing of buildings, insensitive extensions and alterations have resulted in the rapid deterioration of buildings in the complex. The corrosion in the jack arches has resulted in hogging of the floor tiles and cracks appearing in the flooring. New interventions in the buildings to suit modern lifestyles and hasty replacement of the old features to suit the purpose at the time, have also deteriorated the fabric of the built form. The common passages which define the character of the buildings abutting the street have been modified over the ages and have now become a chaotic mix, suited to individual needs. The symmetry maintained in the built form is lost when the railing becomes a brick parapet on the ground floor, wooden railing on the first and MS grill on the second floor. Vegetation growth was noted on the exterior sides of all five buildings. Termite infestation was seen at some places in the building and was not attended to holistically. The roof had not been attended to comprehensively in the recent past and required complete redoing as there was considerable leakage from the gutter areas. The Mangalore tiles were similarly broken or even completely missing at many places.
The repairs were carried out following accepted conservation philosophy and methodology, such as preparing of fabric status reports, use of like-to-like materials, which are compatible and traditional to the historic fabric of the building, undertaking minimum intervention only where desirable and essential, removing all insensitive accretions that had altered the cultural significance of the fabric, reviving the lost art of decorated ornamentation work, incorporating modern day needs and functions without compromising on the heritage character of the structure. The emphasis was on educating ordinary civil contractors to respect heritage properties and introduce the concept of skilled repairs.
The actual work done encompassed a complete replastering of loose plaster area externally, stitching of the cracks, recasting worn out slabs in RCC by retaining good steel joist. The rotted wooden posts and beams were repaired and re-strengthened and the worn out members replaced. Ornamental works like cornices, string courses, quoins, archivolts, decorative floral panels below the window sills were added back by reviving the traditional skills of the master mason. The openings were made by glazing, grill design and chajjas (weather shades). The sealed parapets of the verandahs were replaced with perforated teak balustrades. The teak louvres were reintroduced to allow breeze to enter the rooms. Internal replastering was done where essential, with a groove above the skirting to arrest rising damp.
Replacing the poor portions of floor slab with new time tested durable material, i.e., RCC slab; removing the floor tiles of common areas, where the slab was being recast and re-fixing new tiles that were uniform in pattern and complemented the building; providing completely new plumbing and drainage with new toilets for all tenants in Wadia building whereas for others only damaged pipes were replaced and redundant pipes removed, were among the measures carried out. So also complete roof repairs. Right from removal of tar felt, putting new wooden planks in gutter and applying lead flashing and new tar felt with double batten and relaying the tiles, complete external and internal painting was undertaken, including complete rewiring of the common electricals.
Conservation is a less travelled road in the city of Mumbai where redevelopment has become a craze. The project offers a simple and effective example of adhering to basic principles of conservation, i.e., minimum intervention, as a result of which precious resources are conserved, thereby giving a new lease of life to the fabric. Through refurbishment, the fragile century-old infrastructure is not burdened and the housing colony retains its social character – children play in the compound, the elders hang out in balconies and open spaces interacting with neighbours. In all ongoing redevelopment proposals there is no open space on the ground floor as this area is used only for parking cars. This project highlights Ruskin’s theory that, ‘We are just custodians of the heritage and our task is to pass this on to next generation.’
The project demonstrated to the government and policy makers that it only requires Rs 775/sq ft to conserve a relatively distressed building structurally and architecturally, whereas it would cost half that amount for buildings structurally not so distressed. In contrast, it would cost Rs 4500/sq ft for redevelopment; the present cess repairs that MHADA carries out amount to Rs 200/sq ft.
The way forward is to plan and integrate culture as a tool for urban development. This is possible if conservation of buildings, with incentives, is integrated into the development plan (DP) that is currently being prepared (2014-34). The JNNURM also address some of the issues like rent control reform, property taxes, among others, which are the key issues along with proper enforcement and implementation of the law. Some of these are highlighted below.
The development plan must acknowledge and integrate cultural resources, which has never happened. This is an ideal opportunity as the development plan is under preparation. Once conservation is integrated in the DP, heritage becomes an asset. For example, monuments, Grade I buildings with necessary protection to their setting, and so on, will help revive tourism and improve the image of the city. The existing and proposed heritage listing needs to be carefully reviewed, along with the need for balanced growth and conservation. The heritage properties and precincts should be mapped in the development plan with special by-laws that will help in preserving the cultural significance for which they are listed. Any large-scale development or redevelopment should follow good urban design guidelines that will also benefit the city. All reconstruction proposals should be discussed by placing the new development or building within a city model or by 3-D software as a part of the submission to the corporation. This will ensure that redevelopment is viewed comprehensively rather than as piecemeal, which is the current practice.
The original lease deeds are a useful tool; the inbuilt covenants of the deed will help in maintaining the properties. These should be checked and adhered to before granting permission for redevelopment. All free sops, like extra area for a minimum flat of 350 sq ft should be discouraged in case of development routed through developers since, in order to recover that additional cost, the saleable component increases and use of common amenities decreases, thereby affecting the quality of life. The government should modify the rules and not grant additional higher FSI for schools, hospital, and religious buildings that are heritage properties as it only hastens their demolition for redevelopment. No form of transferable development rights (TDR) can be loaded in heritage sites, precincts or in the buffer area so as to retain its ambience.
A wide range of incentives can be considered to encourage conservation and repairs:
* Encourage repairs and restoration of good building stock, i.e. modify rent control in heritage sites to start with, and commercial and residential properties subsequently.
* State governments should implement the model rent control act for residential premises (2010) enacted by the Union Ministry of Housing.
* The government should grant Repair TDR to all cessed and heritage properties as a major incentive, pending modification to the Rent Control Act.
* All tenants and landlords must give an undertaking that in lieu of such incentives, their buildings would be maintained for a minimum of 20 years.
* This TDR (less than 0.20) is marginal as compared to the TDR (of 4 or 5 ) given for reconstruction and can be used in situ as well. This will also ensure no increase in density nor will it overload the fragile infrastructure.
* Rebates or relaxed property taxes and discounted lease rents to be given to encourage conservation and increase such initiatives over redevelopment.
* Adaptive reuse, conversion, mixed use etc., should be encouraged in principle as it normally does not increase the density, nor does it load the fragile infrastructure.
* Quick permission should be given for repairs, reuse or refurbishment, and maintenance.
* Introduce a comparatively higher redevelopment cess for the redevelopment of all heritage sites where the funds would be used for conserving the neighbourhood and its infrastructure.
* Acknowledge and support the efforts of the owners who want to conserve. A sense of pride should be created for those who choose to conserve and repair their buildings as compared to those who prefer to demolish.
Some other steps that may be contemplated are the commissioning of studies to determine the impact of the prevailing by-laws on density, load on amenities or infrastructure and quality of life. Also, the incorporation of disaster management plans for all new development as well as for conservation of cultural sites.
Hopefully, this project, which was given the Unesco Asia Pacific Award of Distinction 2013, will help initiate other such restoration projects as also help modify the state government repair policy.
Alexander the Great conquered Persia in 331 B.C. and ended the Achaemenid Empire founded by Cyrus the Great. For the next five centuries, the Iranian plateau became ruled by other empires, until a new Persian dynasty took power. Fiercely proud of their roots, these new kings—the Sassanians—restored the might of their ancestors, drawing on their past to become feared conquerors, grand builders, and artistic patrons.
Horse’s head made of silver and gilded silver from Kerman. Fourth century. AKG/ALBUM
For more than four centuries the Sassanians dominated western Asia, expanding their empire and gaining lands from the Roman and Byzantine empires in the west and the Kushan empire in the east. To strengthen their connection to the past, they honored their leaders by carving reliefs of their deeds at Naqsh-e Rostam, the traditional resting place of the Achaemenid kings. Zoroastrianism became the state faith, and the government became centralized.
Sassanians grew wealthy, enriched by the trading routes (including the Silk Road) that passed through their realm. Centered in what is now Iran, the Sassanian empire was home to diverse ethnicities and cultures. It was known for its libraries, vast centers of learning, and soaring achievements in monumental art and architecture. By looking backward, the Sassanians moved their culture forward.
Return of the Persians
In the third century B.C., the Parthian Empire was born after overthrowing the heirs of Alexander the Great. Hailing from the northeastern region of Khorasan in present-day Iran, they controlled the area for roughly 400 years. Parthian culture was heterogeneous and had been strongly influenced by the Hellenistic legacy of Alexander. As Parthia grew more powerful, it rivaled the strength of Rome. (Here’s how suspicion eroded Alexander the Great’s empire.)
Although there were many conflicts between Rome and Parthia, a local revolt is what took down Parthian power in A.D. 224. Forces from Persis, a region in what is now southwest Iran, fought back against the Parthians. Their leader, a Persian prince named Papak, came from a noble family and was descended from a Zoroastrian priest, Sasan. Papak gave his son, Ardashir, a military command. Ardashir proved a successful commander and was able to seize control of several local cities in the early 200s.
Ardashir’s forces swallowed up more and more territory until he finally defeated the last of the Parthian kings and occupied their royal seat at Ctesiphon (near Baghdad in modern Iraq). Ardashir would become the first king of a new Persian dynasty, named after his grandfather, Sasan. To strengthen his ties to Persia’s imperial past, Ardashir adopted the traditional title Shahanshah (“king of kings”), as had the great rulers before him.
Ardashir reigned for nearly two decades and brought a new vision to the empire. He began to centralize power in order to consolidate his lands. Zoroastrianism, the traditional faith of his Persian ancestors, was installed as the official state religion to help strengthen his family’s claims to the throne. Ardashir also looked to expand the empire and continued to press any and all advantages his forces had against the Parthians’ old enemy, Rome. He would co-rule with his son, the future king Shapur I.
Imperial expansion
Taking power in A.D. 241, Shapur I built on his father’s grand vision. His expansionist ambitions were reflected in the title he adopted: “King of Iran and of non-Iran.” He continued to wage military campaigns on the Roman Empire’s eastern borders and found success during a time of political and economic instability for Rome.
Shapur’s troops killed the Roman emperor Gordian near Ctesiphon in 244. Philip the Arabian, Rome’s next emperor, had to sue for peace, an event gleefully recorded in Sassanian sources: “He gave us 500,000 dinars and became our tributary. For that reason, we re-named [Shapur] as ‘Victorious is Shapur.’”
For two decades Shapur continued to devastate Roman Syria and Turkey. Roman humiliation peaked with Sassanian forces capturing Emperor Valerian at the Battle of Edessa in 260. Some Persian sources paint a dramatic picture of the humiliations he suffered: When Shapur wanted to mount his horse, it was said that Valerian was dragged to him and forced to be the king’s human footstool. The exact circumstances of Valerian’s death are unconfirmed by historians—some say he was tortured and killed—but it is certain he died in captivity in 260. But the Roman governor of Syria took back large swaths of land from Persia. After a defeat around 262, Shapur attempted no more incursions into Roman territory. (After Valerian’s death, this rebel queen took on Rome and the Persians.)
Shapur also made territorial gains in the east. According to Sassanian sources, his forces seized lands in central Asia, including Bactria, Sogdiana, and Ghandara, which had belonged to the Kushan empire. To manage this sprawling empire, Shapur further centralized the system of government, creating a streamlined hierarchy in which power radiated from the king, who then delegated to a prime minister. Below them were four classes: the Zoroastrian priests (asronan); the warriors (arteshtaran); the commoners (wastary-oshan); and the artisans (hutukhshan).
The early gains of Shapur I plateaued in the fourth century. By the beginning of the fifth century, the front with the Roman Empire was largely stable. Sassanian forces extended their empire’s eastern bounds as far as China, but elsewhere they were suffering losses and setbacks. The people of eastern Iran, known as the White Huns, plundered parts of eastern Persia in the fifth century. (See the face of a man from the last days of the Roman Empire.)
A diverse empire
Sassanian kings ruled people of many cultures and ethnicities. The Silk Road passed directly through their lands, bringing not only wealth but also a huge number of visiting merchants from Central Asia, India, the Arabian peninsula, Egypt, the eastern Mediterranean, the Caucasus, Greece, and Rome. The outside influence of these people enriched the Sassanians financially and culturally, but complicated governing.
In the sixth century, Sassanian military and cultural power reached its peak under the rule of Khosrow I, who came to power in 531. He enacted a further wave of administrative reforms to ensure a quick military response to any external threat or internal rising. The country was divided into four regions, each placed under its own military commander.
Although Zoroastrianism continued to be the state religion, many other faiths were practiced in Sassanian lands, including Buddhism and Judaism. The Babylonian Talmud, one of the principal texts of Rabbinic Judaism, was composed under Sassanian rule.
At first, religious diversity had been permitted, but government repression would take hold. The third-century religious leader Mani, whose Manichean theology contains both Christian and Zoroastrian influences, was tolerated, but around 274 the Zoroastrian priesthood successfully agitated for his execution.
Astonishing Sassanian metalwork, and the grandeur of the dynasty’s stone reliefs at Naqsh-e Rostam and Taq-e Bostan have survived to proclaim the achievements of the last Persian kings.
Scholarship also flourished in the later Sassanian period: In the sixth century, Khosrow I founded the Academy at Gondishapur, where he gave refuge to Nestorian Christians fleeing persecution. These refugees brought with them valuable Greek and Syrian works on medicine and philosophy that the king ordered translated.
At the turn of the seventh century, Khosrow II continued to fight against Byzantium. Persian troops occupied Jerusalem, Rhodes, and Alexandria, and even came within sight of the gates of Constantinople, but these successes came at great cost to the empire. The long years of warfare had taken their toll financially and weakened Khosrow II’s grip on power. (Excavations beneath Jerusalem reveal layers of ancient history and long-standing tensions.)
A Byzantine military comeback, and the murder of Khosrow II in 628, led to a period of decline. To the south, Arab power was growing, and their leaders saw how weak the Sassanians had become. They first attacked Persian cities in 633 and went on to occupy Ctesiphon three years later. Arab forces toppled the last Sassanian king, Yazdegerd III, in 651. Islam became the dominant religion, but Persian refugees carried the Zoroastrian faith with them east to India.
The destroyers of the Sassanian Empire became its heirs. The Arab newcomers enthusiastically preserved and disseminated the huge repositories of learning at Gondishapur and other centers. The flame of scholarship, lit by the Sassanian kings, would later find its way to Europe, whose societies it would help transform.
Situated near Persepolis, the Naqsh-e Rostam necropolis contains the tombs of four rulers of the Persian Empire from the fifth century B.C.: Darius I, Xerxes I, Ataxerxes I, and Darius II. Centuries later, the Sassanian kings had reliefs sculpted in the lower part of the sepulchers to commemorate their own deeds and link them to the ancient rulers whom they considered their forefathers. In addition to Shapur I vanquishing the Roman emperor Valerian, victories carried out by later kings are also depicted, as well as a scene showing the investiture of Ardashir I, the founder of the dynasty, by the Zoroastrian divinity Ahura Mazda.
If you head to Clifton after passing Sind Club and Frere Hall in Karachi, you’ll come to a traffic signal at Lilly Bridge, with a piece of history on its left: Homi Katrak Chambers.
This stunning pre-Partition heritage building was bought by TPL Properties and will be converted into a luxury real estate complex. This is its story.
Photo: Twitter/@annusraza
The building’s story begins with a Zoroastrian businessman by the name of Kavasji Katrak. He came to India in the early 1900s and was based in Rawalpindi where he worked with a trader as a mid-level clerk.
Eventually, Katrak made his way to Karachi and set up a clearing and forwarding business called Katrak & Company.
Katrak got lucky when he came to Karachi. His business grew steadily and by the time he passed away, he held 20 different agencies. His firm was the first agent for Lever Brothers in Pakistan till the multinational company came to the country.
Katrak was also a great philanthropist, he made a lot of money and gave a lot away. He gave the city of Karachi some important monuments as well. A great example of this is the Katrak Bandstand at the Jahangir Kothari Parade in Clifton.
Then there’s the St Johns Ambulance building. No one is certain if Katrak built it or bought it, but he donated the building to St Johns.
You may also have heard of Katrak Parsi Colony located near Numaish, named in his honour. He built around 18 small flats for people who could not afford rent.
The family
The Katrak family patriarch had several daughters and one son, Sohrab. When Sohrab Katrak had two sons of his own, Jamshed and Homi, Cowasjee Katrak, their grandfather decided to give them a building each.
Jamshed, the eldest, got a building near Merewether Tower called Jamshed Katrak Chambers. Homi’s building Homi Katrak Chambers became a popular heritage site at the junction of Hoshang and Abdullah Haroon roads.
According to a family member: “I don’t know if he built them himself or bought them readymade but I know that at least for three generations: since he was alive, they have been family properties.”
In the early 2000s, Jamshed decided to sell his late brother Homi’s property. (Homi had moved to the UK to become a chartered accountant and settled there. He passed away after a battle with cancer.)
The family is unaware of who bought the building. When they asked Jamshed’s staff after he died in 2008, they were told that a lawyer bought it. For years, family and friends wondered that if the property had been bought, why was it just sitting there.
The residents
The building was split into apartments with garages for the residents and large gates which the children used to call “the elephant gates”.
The HKC used to have five flats upstairs and five below. The rooms were spacious and one room led to another. There was one bathroom per flat along with sprawling dining and drawing rooms.
Some of the residents included the Ravaian family, the Homji family, Hamdanis, Bahadur Shah family, Mr Pinto and the DeAbro family. Anwar Maqsood’s Ziggurat Art Gallery was set up here much later. On the ground floor, there was Niyazdin & Sons Tailors and Outfitters (1930) for upmarket customers and the Katrak Retail Store which was run by Mrs Pereira for years and then taken over by the strict Perin Katrak.
Recently, the Homi Katrak Chambers were bought by TPL Properties and will be turned into a residential-commercial property, confirmed its chairperson Jameel Yusuf. It was acquired in June 2017.
The pre-Partition mansion will not be turned into a high-rise structure but will maintain its status as a commercial-residential property. They intend to create a museum on the property as well. Yusuf told SAMAA Digital that the building’s facade would remain intact but they need to strengthen the structure. It will be a beautifully green building, he added.
Living History India has a wonderful overview on the Victorian Gothic and Art Deco Ensembles of Mumbai that were designated a World Heritage side by the United Nations.
Many of these buildings were built by eminent Parsis of that generation. And today many of the leading citizens who made the designation happen are also Parsis.
Bolting from their village homes to build better lives, plucky young boys landed in Bombay with no more than a coin rattling in ragged pockets. Years of slog later, they contributed considerably as entrepreneurs, entertainers and educationists. Track
Stage comedian Jangoo Irani (extreme right) with Burjor Patel, Dinshah Daji, and Ruby Patel in the Adi Marzban caper, Ari Bethela Erachshah. Pic courtesy/ Meher Marfatia: Laughter in the house: 20-th century Parsi theatre
IT was a camel, a mule and a Karachi-Bombay train that he jumped on. Nothing could stop the 13-year-old peasant boy from Yazd travelling 2,500 kilometres to the city of his dreams in 1929. Khodamurad Meherwan realised his prospects were dim in sleepy Mazrekalantary, where men slaved on dry fruit farms and women stoked kitchen fires in long-sleeved, handwoven dresses worn with white jute slippers called maliki.
“He was running away from no real future in Iran,” says Khodamurad’s daughter Banoo Kalantary, retracing her feisty father’s flight. Stopped at the Afghanistan border on a donkey, Khodamurad was asked his surname. “I don’t have one,” he replied. That’s why he became Khodamurad Meherwan Afkham. He started sweeping the floor of 1860-established New Majestic Restaurant & Stores below Capitol Cinema at VT for five rupees a day. “My father had no home, only hope, but an attitude of gratitude in his heart,” Banoo says. He slept on the footpath outside, with a thin gunny sack lining the cold ground. Slogging for years, he got a modest partner share in Majestic at the age of 20. With his wife Vahbiz, from Alliabadi village, he raised five children in a flat on Gunbow Street, Fort, accommodating an aunt with her five kids too.
Khodamurad’s first son Jehanbux was born in a goat stable in Iran, the rest here. In a city of military marchpasts on streets that were washed daily, the Afkhams’ front door was always wide open. On Fridays, sigri-simmered fish curry was ladled to anyone dropping in. Between chores, the lady of the house somehow caught shows of her adored Raj Kapoor-Nargis starrers at Capitol.
Kapurchand Mehta with Prithviraj Kapoor in 1960. With his brothers Zaverchand and Kevalchand, Kapurchand helmed wide-ranging businesses interests in textiles, real estate and films
Not far from the Afkhams, an iconic cinema and trio of Marine Drive buildings stand centrestage in the story of Nemchand K Mehta’s sons. Their grocery-to-glory saga is threaded together by generations after, in Zaver Mahal, Kapur Mahal and Keval Mahal. Nemchand sweated, struggling with meagre earnings from his vegetable shop in Vadal, Saurashtra, to provide for 11 children. Kapurchand, Zaverchand and Kevalchand were born two years apart from 1900 and 1904.
At under 12, Kapurchand boldly left home, walking impossible distances, hopping on to a buffalo buggy and finally steam train. His granddaughter Uma shares an account narrated by her father. “Exhausted and famished, Kapurchand met a woman who gave him one of her two rotlas.” He saved a scrap—which, incredibly, Uma has preserved in a casket. “Anything from the hands of a kumarika, an unmarried virgin, was an auspicious shagun offering.”
At Bombay Central he was spotted by a Marwari seth and employed in his cloth shop. Buying a lottery ticket, Kapurchand was stunned to find a jingling cascade of coins suddenly his. “Back to work,” Nemchand urged his son who returned to Vadal with the surprise treasure. He headed to 1920s Bangalore, opening Kapurchand & Co. in Chickpet. Stocking blankets of the Lal Imli Mills, Kanpur, he invited Zaverchand and Kevalchand to join him.
Filmmaker Vikas Desai at his Rajkamal Studio office stands below the hanging cap of his great-grandfather, Anant Shivaji Desai Topiwala (portrait, right), pre-Independence Bombay’s leading hat maker and pioneer industrialist-philanthropist. Pic/ Bipin Kokate
Bombay beckoning soon, they settled in Prarthna Samaj. Kapurchand shouldered the overall responsibility of their ventures, focusing on finance. With the Lal Imli agency for South India under their belt, Zaverchand managed the Chira Bazaar shop and midtown estates. Kevalchand assumed charge of a film exhibition operation, centred at Roxy on Charni Road, where screen history was rewritten in 1943 with Kismet totting up 192 weeks. Aspiring to a beautiful property each, the brothers commissioned PC Dastoor to create the three buildings.
Another boy bolting from Saurashtra was Shyamdas Govindji Jhaveri, of Kundal in Barwala taluka. A few years after he was orphaned at the age of five, with barely a couple of rupees clinking in his torn pocket, he clocked in unimaginably stretched hours at a Crawford Market stall set up around 1914. Shifting to Metro House, the cinema building, Jhaveri Bros continues to display trophies, silver items and commemorative coins crafted at that counter.
Gradually flourishing, the Jhaveris introduced India to a luxury legend—their door handles are still in the shape of Mont Blanc pens. Adopting the motto, “Customer is master”, Shyamdas trained staffers to adhere to ethical standards, meticulously maintaining a file labelled “Thoughts on progressive business”. Jhaveri Bros. has witnessed World Wars, civic crises, economic depressions and today’s pandemic. Shyamdas’ granddaughter Seyjhal says, “We enjoy tremendous trust from local and international clients forever loyal to us.” A humble chana-kurmuri shack he helped his father serve Walawal villagers from, in Sawantwadi, lies at the core of compelling circumstances that brought 10-year-old Anant Shivaji Desai to Bombay. On his father’s death, the boy was forced to leave the village with nothing more than a rupee pressed into his hand by a relative. Of which eight annas, or 50 paise, paid for the 13-day boat trip ticket. Two months later, finishing the chinchuk tamarind seeds and kilo of rice his worried mother had packed, he fainted at Grant Road station.
New Majestic Restaurant partner Khodamurad Afkham and his wife Vahbiz with their eldest boy Jehanbux, now a cardiologist in Germany. Jehanbux’s sons are music virtuosos —David Afkham is chief conductor and artistic director of the Spanish National Orchestra and Chorus, while Micha Afkham plays the viola with the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. Pic courtesy/ Kalantary Family
Employed as a railway labourer there, he learnt tailoring at a mill during his lunch break. This skill won a series of orders and, by 1872, catapulted him to the status of Bombay’s best hat maker with a growing appreciative clientele of Parsis, Muslims and Gujarati seths. They paid well for quality caps fashioned with flair by Anant Shivaji Desai. Titled Rao Bahadur Topiwala by the British, he rose to rank among the richest landlords, whose descendants gifted Bombay the Topiwala Medical College at Bombay Central and Topiwala Theatre in Goregaon.
Anant Shivaji Desai also positioned himself as sole agent for Raja Ravi Varma lithographs, acquiring rights to the Baroda and Mysore collections after the painter’s death in 1906. Prise open the frame of a Ravi Varma print and you will most probably read: “Anant Shivaji Desai Topiwala, Ravi Varma Press”.
A stitch in time similarly saved Camilo Xavier Pereira from life consigned to the islet of Sao Mathias in Divar. Hugging a “passport” granted by Portuguese authorities then ruling Goa, he bunched meagre savings for steamer fare. In this case, the earnings were from his stint as an eight-year-old muncar (tenant) working for a well-inclined lady badcar (landowning employer). Docking in Bombay harbour, he joined hundreds of other young men from his community, living crammed yet in camaraderie, out of a trunkful of belongings in dormitory quarters called coors—waiting to seize the chance to become seamen, chefs, musicians or Konkani tiatr artistes.
Camilo had figured his forte was sewing. In Dhobi Talao’s Sonapur Lane, Tony Pereira points to St Mathias Tailors, where his father’s scissors snipped classic 1970s three-pieces for Johnny Walker and Mehmood. And bespoke safari suits for tycoon Pranlal Bhogilal who smiled when Savile Row-accoutred tycoons in London asked with admiring looks, “Who cuts your clothes?”
Shyamdas Jhaveri was the first to import this luxury brand in the country and the shop still has its door handles shaped like Mont Blanc nibbed pens. Pic courtesy/Seyjhal Jhaveri
Equally motivated exits drove starry-eyed boys from small towns to the city they dreamed would never let them down. The success of a pioneer educationist is rooted in kindness—that of institutional legend GD Agrawal of Harganga Mahal at Khodadad Circle, Dadar. He left from Ajmer in his teens, carefully clutching R29 from selling his bicycle. Touched by hungry-to-learn Mazagaon mazdoors’ children he saw all over at the height of the city’s vibrant textile mills era, he tutored them for free in math and science. Going professional on marrying, Agrawal rented a Matunga room his growing family had to step out from during coaching hours. Agrawal Classes shifted to Harganga Mahal from 1955, their students including Nadir Godrej, Mukesh Ambani and Mahendra Choksi of Asian Paints.
A stowaway from Karachi proving Parsi theatre’s extraordinary gain was Jehangir (Jangoo) Irani. The comedian brought the house down as the eccentric domestic help Aspandyar. The third actor essaying this role (predecessor greats were half-French Jean Bhownagary and Pheroze Antia), Jangoo added sparkling touches under Adi Marzban’s direction. With a dirty, gingham-check duster slopped across the shoulder and striped shorts ballooning clumsily, he begged a stingy employer for wages. Hearing excuses like “I pay on the 30th of each month and last month was February”, Irani muttered a sulky threat, “Chaal Iran jaaych—I’m off to Iran!”
Fascinated by dramatic showmanship, Jangoo had earlier given Pipsy, his pet squirrel, to visiting Russian circus artistes who taught him stunt cycling and air-gun tricks. His craze to perform made his principal gift him an English bicycle. Scraping through middle school years, he preferred to sit on this cycle perched atop two tables to target-shoot, with candle flames casting flickering shadows around.
An early view of the Jhaveri Bros & Co. corner store at Metro House, with the Mont Blanc van parked in the foreground
Deciding that entertainment-friendly Bombay would be best receptive to his talents, with no money whatsoever, he hushed a chattering black mynah smuggled under his shirt and traded the talking bird for the ship trip. Mechanical-minded, he interviewed with a Godrej firm. At a subsequent job in Central Bank, his acting at annual day skits hooked playwright Pheroze Antia’s attention.
The star was the biggest hero to his sons. Shapur Irani recalls he and his brother crept into halls on Sunday evenings to watch their father fire away in the Dari dialect. As he stomped off, mock-huffing, amid loud audience applause, two little lads whispered from the seats, “Chaal Iran jaaych.”
Author-publisher Meher Marfatia writes fortnightly on everything that makes her love Mumbai and adore Bombay. Reach her at meher.marfatia@mid-day.com/www.mehermarfatia.com
Live History India present a great visual treat about Navsari. Archeologist Kurush Dalal and historian and author Pheroza Godrej are featured on the video and explain some of the history of the town.
A quaint town on the way to Surat became the launch pad for one of the most enterprising communities in India. In this episode, we head to Navsari and trace the story of the Parsis.
Percy Wadia, a staff member of the library told the Free Press Journal that they have around 3, 000 members as the regular visitors to the library before the Metro work began.
Jamshetjee Nessarwanjee Petit Institute and Library at Fort (JN Petit Institute) is witnessing fewer visitors due to the ongoing Colaba-Bandra-SEEPZ (Metro-3) work.
Percy Wadia, a staff member of the library told the Free Press Journal that they have around 3, 000 members as the regular visitors to the library before the Metro work began.
Nowadays, only students from nearby colleges visit the library and use the reading room.
“Ever since the Metro authorities barricaded the area, especially near the library’s entrance, a lot of senior citizens, the members of this library, have stopped coming.
They are inconvenienced. We are witnessing a 50 per cent drop in footfall. Although the Metro officials assured of removing the barricades six months ago, nothing has been done so far,” Wadia remarked.
Interestingly, to preserve the ancient Neo-Gothic structure, JN Petit has received Asia-Pacific award from the UNESCO in 2015. The library
has about 90,000 books, including the ones of an era around 1660AD. Moreover, old scripts of the Zoroastrian community are also there. Several religious books in Sanskrit, Persian and Gujarati are available.
Besides, as the library has several old study material, a lot of researchers from India and abroad visit this place. However, due to the ongoing Metro work and constant noise due to drilling and tunnelling, the readers show little interest, another staff member of the library asserted.
Though the library has a huge reading room decorated with stained glass windows and portraits of the Petit family, giving a perfect atmosphere of reading, people have stopped coming due to the noise. “We have readers, who used to come early at 7 am.
Now, we don’t see them coming here regularly. Instead, they insist on collecting the issued library books from their homes. We have no option, but to send our staff to collect the books,” he added.
All attempts to contact the officials of the Mumbai Metro Rail Corporation (MMRCL), undertaking the Metro-3, proved futile.
Photojournalist Mobeen Ansari has spent close to a decade capturing facets of the Parsis — a community that has contributed immensely to the building of Pakistan
Walking around Jamshed Baugh, a quiet Parsi neighbourhood in Karachi, photojournalist Mobeen Ansari spotted an elderly woman sitting on her porch, lost in thoughts. In her bright pink frock, a wrinkled palm cradling her serene face, Mobeen thought she was a perfect candidate for a portrait shot. Just as he was about to click her picture, their eyes met. She noticed the camera in his hand and rushed inside her house, only to come out with a metal rod.
A thousand words: Vignettes of the life, rituals and festivals of the Parsi community in Pakistan – IMAGES COURTESY: MOBEEN ANSARI
“I thought she would throw it at me or beat me up with it. But to my surprise she started banging the railing next to a door with it. Out of nowhere a clowder of 30 cats came running to her,” Ansari tells this correspondent during a meeting in Dubai earlier this year and later in an email interview. That heartening image of Perin Keikobad, a retired Pakistani banker who now spends most of her time feeding and looking after stray cats, found a place in the lensman’s book Dharkan: The Heartbeat of a Nation published in 2013.
By featuring her Ansari not just paid tribute to Perin’s unsung act but also found an opportunity to get to know the small yet significant Parsi community of Pakistan. Followers of Zoroastrianism, an ancient religion from Persia, the Parsis of Pakistan are mostly based in the port city of Karachi. Builders of some of the oldest hospitals, educational institutions and hotels of the city, there are only around 1,000 Parsis living in Pakistan today.
Through his lens Ansari (32), also a film-maker, artist and trekker based in Islamabad, has been capturing facets of this dwindling community of people in the country for over nine years now. Besides Perin, one of the first people he photographed for Dharkan was the late Ardeshir Cowasjee — a fearless Parsi journalist, who was fondly called ‘The Grand Old Man of Karachi’.
“When I photographed him in the summer of 2010, I did not have much of a portfolio. I had not conceptualised the book Dharkan and it was still a photo series. After I gave prints of the shoot to Ardeshir, he encouraged me to expand it into a book,” says Ansari, who lost most of his hearing ability to meningitis when he was three weeks old, a disability that he believes helped him understand what it means not to be a part of a majority.
His first book Dharkan presented portraits of iconic and ordinary heroes of Pakistan who shaped the country. It featured yet another Parsi, the celebrated author Bapsi Sidhwa, who was raised in Lahore. Impressed by young Ansari’s zeal to build tolerance by photographing minority communities, she helped him launch his book in the US. “We became very close friends. On the book she signed — to my adopted son,” Ansari says.
Over the years, as Ansari’s friendship with Cowasjee and Sidhwa grew, he was introduced to more Parsis. Invitations to dinners, weddings and other celebrations started pouring in. “These friends would alert me about important events on the Parsi calendar and I would fly in to Karachi to capture them. When the Parsi high priest Berjise Bhada became a close friend, I accompanied him to religious ceremonies at Agyaris (fire temples) and at Parsi homes,” he says.
A series of photo shoots followed. Ansari photographed the lighting of a fire urn, a thanksgiving ritual performed before the start of an auspicious occasion, and a table readied for Navroz, the Parsi New Year. He photographed a young couple exchanging rings surrounded by the priest and family members, the men dressed in traditional white dagli (overcoat) and feta (black hat). Some of these images eventually found their way into Ansari’s second book — White in the Flag. Published in 2017, it depicts the lives and festivities of religious minorities of Pakistan.
Although Ansari discovered the Parsi community intimately through his friends only in his 20s he had been hearing stories about them right from his childhood. While growing up he had heard several anecdotes about the community from his grandmother, whose best friend was her classmate Rubyna Colombowalla, a Parsi. The two were in school together in Jabalpur in pre-Partition India. Ansari’s grandmother kept in touch with Rubyna even after she migrated to Pakistan but stopped writing letters because of tensions between the two nations.
The photo series is also an ode to the people who contributed immensely to building Pakistan. The most notable contributions of the Parsis in Karachi are the Mama Parsi schools, Nadirshaw Eduljee Dinshaw University of Engineering and Technology, BVS (Bai Virbaiji Soparivala) High School, Parsi General Hospital, Avari Towers and Luxury Hotels.
But young Parsis have now migrated to other countries for higher education, job opportunities and for security reasons. According to the 2015 edition of the A&T Directory, which carries details of Parsis in Pakistan, there were only 1,416 Parsis left in Pakistan. The number, as reported by The News International in April 2019, has dwindled further to 1,092. “It is really sad that the first monotheistic religion in the world is facing extinction. Unfortunately, its followers in Pakistan are ageing today and due to migration only the middle aged are left behind,” says Natasha Mavalvala, who works with the Saudi Arabian Airlines in Pakistan and is closely involved with the Karachi Zarthosti Banu Mandal, a Parsi women’s welfare organisation.
Mavalvala, who features in Ansari’s book White in the Flag, recalls how the photographer inundated her with questions about Parsi culture and traditions. “I have never answered so many questions regarding my community or my religion,” she says. “Through his photographs, Ansari has captured the essence of our culture. As a community we tend to keep a low profile. But this nation was built by the Parsis and we are proud to have been the forerunners,” she says.
Tessy Koshy is an independent journalist based in Dubai
The British Library is fortunate in having an unparalled collection of over 100 Zoroastrian works ranging from the oldest, the ninth century Ashem Vohu prayer written in Sogdian script discovered by Aurel Stein in Central Asia in 1907, to, most recently, manuscripts collected especially for the Royal Society in London during the late-nineteenth century. Although Zoroastrianism is Iranian in origin, most of our manuscripts in fact come from India. They are written in Avestan (Old Iranian), Middle Persian, New Persian, and also in the Indian languages Sanskrit and Gujarati.
In the past few years several of our manuscripts have become familiar through exhibitions such as Everlasting Flame: Zoroastrianism in History and Imagination held at SOAS (2013) and New Delhi (2016) and also through the Zoroastrian articles and collection items included in our recent website Discovering Sacred Texts. Building on this and thanks to the philanthropic support of Mrs Purviz Rusy Shroff, we have now been able to complete digitisation of the whole collection. This introductory post outlines the history of the collection and is intended as the first in a series highlighting the collection as the manuscripts go live during the next few months.
One of the holiest Zoroastrian prayers, the Ashem vohu, discovered at Dunhuang by Aurel Stein in 1907. Transcribed into Sogdian (a medieval Iranian language) script, this fragment dates from around the ninth century AD, about four centuries earlier than any other surviving Zoroastrian text (BL Or.8212/84). Public domain
The collection is made up of three main collections described below, dating from the seventeenth, the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries, in addition to individual items acquired by British travellers to India and employees of the East India Company. I’ll be writing more about these individual collections in future posts.
Thomas Hyde (1636–1703)
Our oldest collection, and the earliest to reach the West, was acquired for the seventeenth century polymath Thomas Hyde. Hyde became Laudian Professor of Arabic at the University of Oxford in 1691 and Regius Professor of Hebrew in 1697 and also served as Royal Secretary and Translator of Oriental Languages for three successive monarchs: Charles II, James II and William III. While he had never travelled in the East himself, he built up a network of travellers and East India Company officials whom he asked to purchase books and manuscripts on his behalf. Several of these were chaplains whom Hyde had personally recommended to the Levant and the East India trading companies. After his death in 1703 part of his collection was purchased by Queen Anne for the Royal Library. It was subsequently given to the British Museum by King George III in 1757.
A copy of the Khordah Avesta (‘Little Avesta’) which contains prayers, hymns and invocations. This manuscript begins with the Ashem vohu (featured also in Sogdian script above) and is dated 30 Ardibihisht 1042 in the era of Yazdagird (1673). It was copied at the request of the English Agent Kunvarji Nanabhai Modi probably on commission for Hyde. Hyde could read though never wholly understood Avestan, but he used this particular manuscript as a model for the special Avestan type he created for his well-known History of the Persian Religion published in 1700 (BL Royal Ms 16.B.vi, f. 1r). Public domain
Samuel Guise (1751-1811)
Samuel Guise began his career as a Surgeon on the Bombay Establishment of the East-India Company in 1775 and from 1788 until the end of 1795, he was Head Surgeon at the East-India Company’s Factory in Surat where his work brought him into close contact with the Parsi community. An avid collector, he acquired altogether more than 400 manuscripts while in India. At some point he was fortunate enough to be able to purchase from his widow, the collection of the famous Dastur Darab who had taught the first translator of the Avesta, Anquetil du Perron, between 1758 and 1760 (Guise, Catalogue, 1800, pp. 3-4):
This Collection was made at Surat, from the year 1788 till the End of 1795, with great Trouble and Expence. … Of this Collection, however rich in Arabick and Persian works of Merit, the chief Value consists in the numerous Zend and Pehlavi MSS treating of the antient Religion and History of the Parsees, or Disciples of the celebrated Zoroaster, many of which were purchased, at a very considerable Expence, from the Widow of Darab, who had been, in the Study of those Languages, the Preceptor of M. Anquetil du Perron; and some of the Manuscripts are such as this inquisitive Frenchman found it impossible to procure
In 1796 he retired to Montrose, Angus, where he lived until his death in 1811. The story of his collection and what subsequently happened to it is told in my article “The strange story of Samuel Guise: an 18th-century collection of Zorostrian manuscripts,” but eventually in 1812, 26 Zoroastrian manuscripts were acquired at auction by the East India Company Library. They include one of the oldest surviving Avestan manuscripts, the Pahlavi Videvdad (‘Law to drive away the demons’), a legal work concerned with ritual and purity which was copied in 1323 AD (Mss Avestan 4). Other important manuscripts are a copy of the liturgical text, the Videvdad sādah (Mss Avestan 1), attributed to the fifteenth century, and one of the oldest copies of the Yasna sādah – the simple text of the Yasna ritual without any commentary– (Mss Avestan 17).
Verses 6-7 of Yasna 43 on the creation of the universe. The red floral decorations are verse dividers and are a feature of this manuscript. This copy was completed in India in 1556 (BL Mss Avestan 17, f. 128r). Public domain
Burjorji Sorabji Ashburner
Burjorji Ashburner was a successful Bombay merchant, a Freemason, and a member of the Bombay Asiatic Society. He was also a member of the Committee of Management for one of the most important Zoroastrian libraries in Bombay, the Mulla Firuz Library and made a special point of having copies made of some of the rarer items. In April 1864 Burjurji wrote offering some 70 to 80 volumes as a gift to the Royal Society, London, promising to add additional ones:
In the course of antiquarian researches…with special reference to the Parsee religion, I have had the good fortune to obtain some valuable ancient manuscripts in Zend, Pehlui, and Persian. I do not wish to keep to myself what may be useful in the literary world. [1]
His collection consisted of standard Arabic and Persian works in addition to nineteen specifically Zoroastrian manuscripts in Persian, Avestan and Pahlavi. A number of Bujorji’s manuscripts came originally from Iran. The oldest is an illustrated copy of the Videvdad sādah (RSPA 230) which was copied in Yazd, Iran, in 1647. Whereas Zoroastrian manuscripts are generally unillustrated except for small devices such as verse dividers and occasional diagrams, this one, exceptionally, contains seven coloured drawings of trees, used as chapter headings not unlike Islamic manuscripts of the same period.
The beginning of chapter 19 of the Videvdad sadah in which Zoroaster repels an attempt on his life by the demon Buiti, sent by the evil spirit Angra Mainyu. Note the elongated calligraphic script which is typical of the older manuscripts from Iran (BL RSPA 230, f. 227r). Public domain
Several of Bujorji’s manuscripts were copied or written by Siyavakhsh Urmazdyar an Iranian poet and writer living in Bombay in the mid-nineteenth century. His poetical name was Azari, but he was otherwise known as Sarfahkar Kirmani or Irani. These include works in Persian on the calendar (the subject of a major controversy at the time), a dictionary, treatises on divination and the interaction between Zoroastrians and Muslims, in addition to copies of Avestan texts.
Other sources
The remaining manuscripts were acquired in India, mostly by East India Company servants Jonathan Duncan Governor of Bombay (1756–1811), Sir John Malcolm (1769–1833), and the Scottish linguist and poet John Leyden (1775-1811). They range from the sixteenth to the nineteenth centuries.
The beginning of the Qissah-i Sanjan, the traditional story in Persian verse of the settlement of the Parsis in India composed by Bahman ibn Kayqubād at Nausari in AD 1600. This copy is undated but was written, most probably for John Leyden, on paper watermarked 1799 (BL IO Islamic 2572, f. 1v). Public domain
TO practice conservation in Mumbai, one must be lucky to have the right client who understands and sympathizes with the word ‘conservation’. I was fortunate to have one such client, the Garib Zarthostiona Rehethan Fund, a benevolent trust looking after the low/middle income group, residential housing needs of the Parsi community.
Unusually, this trust believed in repairing and maintaining a heritage property rather than in demolition and redevelopment, and in doing so, bearing the entire cost of the repair and not burdening the tenants with the costs, this being the ideal professional as well as legal position. The trust owns about 50 such unloved, under-appreciated but definitely ‘heritage’ buildings in Mumbai city, scattered around Central and South Mumbai, as part of various community housing schemes which were prevalent in the 19th century. Working with this trust for the past five years, I have been responsible for the conservation of at least a dozen buildings, which has given me deeper insights as to how easy and cost effective it is to repair as against the rampant unquestioned redevelopment mantra being currently practised in Mumbai.
Working on this project has reinforced for me the age-old conviction that it is usually more economical and wiser to repair rather than reconstruct or redevelop. It helps in reviving the lost skills and craftsmanship of various artisans; retains the socio-cultural relationship and harmony between people and place, and does not burden the fragile century-old urban infrastructure. Such a resource saving approach is the need of the hour for Mumbai, which in the absence of good planning and development guidelines, is on a rampant path of insensitive redevelopment.
A High Court interim order of February 2014 has reaffirmed that the Grade III and other buildings in the precincts from seeking redevelopment under section DCR 33(6-10) need not seek approval from the MHCC (Mumbai Heritage Conservation Committee). As a result, we will see a lot more redevelopment rather than repair of old buildings in the heritage precincts. The Lal Chimney Compound conservation is thus an important case study to demonstrate to the government and citizens of Mumbai what effective repairs can do, and hope this leads to a policy that incentivizes repair of heritage structures over their demolition, followed by insensitive redevelopment.
Mumbai faces an acute shortage of affordable housing. As an island city, land is limited and the monetary value of available land is amongst the highest in the world. Rental housing that was prevalent till the 1960s and ’70s was able to fulfil the demand. However, when the rental system was stopped and ownership of flats started, the affordable housing stock was badly hit, changing the dynamics of the city from community to class dominated housing. Comparatively speaking, no other city in the country has such an acute shortage of affordable housing, which is a matter of grave concern for Mumbai’s future.
Historically, in the late 19th century, affordable housing was provided for cotton mill workers by the mill owners. Later, the City Improvement Trust provided similar single room tenements with common service facilities (e.g., the BDD chawls) in areas around the mills, in what is now considered central Mumbai. This trend continued till the mid-20th century into the suburbs where land was relatively cheaper. With the advent of the cooperative housing society model in the late 1960s, the availability of rental accommodation declined.
Lal Chimney ariel view post restoration
One of Mumbai’s major drawbacks is its frozen rents since 1944 (after World War II) due to the Rent Control Act. As a result, about 19000 tenanted buildings, now nearly a century old, are completely neglected and ill-maintained. This constitutes the bulk of the inner city’s building stock. Many of these buildings are in extremely poor condition with some even having collapsed, resulting in loss of lives, while others are in various stages of dilapidation. Not surprisingly, people do not want to stay in such buildings. But as the rents are very low (due to the Rent Control Act), the tenants prefer to lock their premises, anticipating redevelopment at some later stage. In the process they block access to these affordable houses for others. The government has refrained from altering or abolishing the Rent Control Act, as it fears losing out on popular vote banks. Consequently, these buildings have deteriorated with every passing decade.
What has worsened the already existing dismal situation is the recent change of rules that now give unjustifiable incentives for demolition and redevelopment over repairs. With a higher FSI (Floor Space Index) available for redevelopment schemes, an external private developer is now involved in redevelopment. The redeveloped buildings are cooperative societies, charging market based maintenance rates and taxes after redevelopment, which the original tenants often cannot afford. Hence, they are pushed to areas that are at the periphery of the city. In the process, they lose their moorings and base, which is undesirable, as eventually ‘people make places’. The new flats in the redeveloped buildings are sold to the more affluent, resulting in an increase of unaffordable housing stock. The builders reap super-profits while urban density increases significantly, leading to a poorer quality of life and infrastructure that just cannot cope with an increase in loads.
Let us now look at the conservation of the Lal Chimney Compound. The goal of this project was to make the government consider offering incentives equivalent to the cost of comprehensive repairs as additional FSI or TDR (Transfer of Development Rights) to landlord and tenants. This would significantly prolong the life of the existing building stock in the city until the next development plan of Mumbai is prepared, within two decades. At the insistence of tenants, the repairs and restoration undertaken in the Lal Chimney Compound case were of a high standard and quality. The vacant flats of these repaired buildings were rented out again, thus creating affordable housing stock (which is the need of the hour) for the city from amongst existing resources.
The Parsi’s are one of the more affluent communities in the country that has shown concern about the housing needs of its people. It has constructed baugs (gated colonies with garden) for the more affluent members of the community as seen in South Mumbai. Among other examples are Cusrow Baug and Rustom Baug. It has also built entire colonies like the Dadar Parsi Colony which was part of the Town Planning Scheme for middle income members of the community. This colony is designed with adequate open spaces, i.e., five gardens. Lastly, several compounds or cluster of buildings (like a complex) were built for the less fortunate members. The former two types of community housing are looked after by the Bombay Parsi Punchayat Trust (BPPT), the second largest individual private landowner of properties in Mumbai after the Mumbai Port Trust (MPT).
This compound is looked after by the Garib Zarthostiona Rehethan Fund (GZRF), which was also responsible for building the Lal Chimney Housing Complex. The Lal Chimney complex was the second such colony to be restored in Mumbai, the first being the Sethna, Gamadiya, Patel and Dadyseth buildings off Wadia Street, demonstrating the commitment of the trust towards the well-being of its tenants and colonies.
In Marzban Colony, the Lal Chimney building complex is a modest example of good community housing of the late 19th and early 20th century in Mumbai. The complex takes one back to an era when a simple life took precedence over pretence, and where beauty was evident in the tiny details as seen in the excellent craftsmanship that was then the established standard of work. These buildings were not listed as heritage buildings or precincts when their repair work commenced in 2009.
The complex is located in front of Nair Hospital in Mumbai Central (East) and is set within a cluster of five buildings which are similar in scale, mass and volume. This entire stretch on Dr Nair Road had a similar building stock, all for housing, and broadly for three communities – the Bohris (Muslim), the Parsis and the Christians. The compound has a rear secondary street which serves as a service alley. This area was well laid out, with gardens and open grounds, and remains one of the better planned areas on the outskirts of the inner city.
The ground plus two storey structures are bilaterally symmetrical in planning. The neighbourhood still affords a picturesque view in spite of the new residential towers that have sprung up, thereby completely eroding the urban design characteristics of this road. A vibrant mix of generations live here: old couples, families, young kids and middle aged adults form a thriving and lively community. A sense of community, which is rarely seen in today’s high rise buildings, is still prevalent here owing to its architecture and urban design.
The buildings are plain functional residential buildings with vernacular, teak perforated parapets and the finer façade details like a cornice running around decorative mouldings on windows, flower motifs, etc. which ornament the old buildings. The roof is tiled and a string course runs at some floor levels, and the common passages have decorative wooden railings and louvred ventilators, adding to the architectural charm of the buildings.Though the buildings are not particularly significant for their architectural style, they remain good examples of architecture, urban design, town planning and a precinct that has an overall character with mass and scale and an interactive community system.
All five buildings follow the same construction methodology. The main structure consists of brick load bearing external walls that have a thickness of 16 to 20 inches and the construction of slab is a jack arch with steel joist supports. In the kitchen area and some rooms, the slabs have been strengthened by the addition of steel support perpendicular to the direction of hidden I-sections. However, no reconstruction of slab was ever carried out. The balcony or verandah or passage has teak posts and beams. The plinth is made up of basalt stone and the staircase is wooden. The top floor has teak trusses below the rafters/purlins and on them lay the teak boarding, with a tiled roof above.
In the 1970s when most of the tenantable building stock in Mumbai was approximately 70 years old, and the occupants started to demand repairs, the government started a housing repair board, Mumbai Housing Area Development Authority, and introduced a cess or repair fund to counter the problems associated with the Rent Act. This fund was to be used to repair these residential tenanted buildings by replacing the decayed or damaged area and materials; for example, wood which was expensive, was to be replaced with steel. The objective of setting up of this fund was good, but unfortunately the government did not insist on adherence to principles of conservation while undertaking repair, principles such as minimum intervention, using materials that were similar to the original, etc., as conservation as a discipline and practice had not yet emerged in India.
As a result it was seen that maximum intervention was done, and even good condition building-fabric was shown as waste and removed, starting a parallel business of selling good timber material salvaged from old buildings. The steel used did not last long, and it was seen that the building deteriorated faster with such repairs. However, the only good point of such insitu repairs was that density remained constant, building scale and mass was maintained and there was no additional load on the fragile infrastructure.
After a decade or two it became the trend to reconstruct the entire building on the same footprint, and this resulted in formalizing the salvage racket where good wood was sold and replaced with steel that required frequent repairs. The buildings were completely deprived of their architectural character. However, the positive was that the tenants remained and building mass and scale was retained.
After another decade, i.e. 1990-2000, the trend shifted and the MHADA started reconstructing the buildings themselves by following the accepted by-laws of the city. They got a marginally higher FSI to recover the cost of construction. However, with the involvement of government agencies, expectedly, the construction quality deteriorated and many of these buildings are once again in a some-what poor condition within a couple of decades itself, and are awaiting reconstruction again with higher FSI. It is a pity that the government did not increase the cess fund (presently Rs 2000/sq mt approx) and never insisted on retaining as much of its original fabric as possible by using similar materials.
By the turn of the last century, private players were roped in for redevelopment and the tenants were provided larger areas as per minimum standards (350 sq ft), and as a result, the FSI was increased to meet construction costs. An additional area was given as sale component and present by-laws were followed that provided for setbacks, basement and podium parking free of FSI. This development has resulted in eroding the gently woven cultural fabric and street life, which was the strength of the inner city. The podium-height kept increasing as individual towers capitalized on selling flats offering the best views of the city, while sadly forgetting that the next old cessed building to be redevelop would also go up to the same height. Soon, all we will have are dark alleys and left over spaces in between towers instead of streets.
Out of approximately 19000 cessed properties in Mumbai, a large number are owned by trusts who provide community housing. Hence, this small step taken by the Garib Zarthostiona Rehethan Fund Trust can be a giant one in retaining Mumbai’s unloved, under-appreciated buildings, thereby saving the city from the infrastructure pressures and in enhancing the quality of life.
Lal Chimney prior to restoration
The methodology followed by the Lal Chimney Compound conservation was as follows. For a few buildings which underwent extensive structural repairs, the tenants were shifted into other community housing colonies for a brief period (3-4 months) unlike the redevelopment module where people are shifted for a few years. This is often inconvenient to the elders of the community who have an emotional bonding and need to be in the place where they have lived long years.
Change is inevitable, but the present redevelopment trend only benefits the developer and does no good for the city. Hence, the approach of repair followed in the Lal Chimney Compound can be used until a new redevelopment scheme with proper planning and infrastructure, that will benefit the city first, is initiated. The repair philosophy adopted was to retain as much of the original fabric as possible, thereby saving on resources as well as making it economical.
The amazing advantage of restoring wooden buildings is that they can be strengthened insitu by replacing the decayed area or by flitching it. In the end it was heartening to see that even the few tenants who were disgruntled at the prospect of repairs, were satisfied and happy when the entire restoration was over, as they got an upgraded colony. Most importantly, they did not have to contribute even marginally as the trust bore all the expenses of repairs.
Such an approach, if used for all cessed properties in Mumbai, can actually transform the city heritage or inner city, and add to vibrant economical areas while offering affordable housing to the needy. The work started with comprehensive structural repairs to one such building, i.e. Wadia building in the year 2009. After its successful completion, four other buildings in the same colony, which had earlier undergone internal repairs, were also restored externally as the tenants/residents demanded it; thereby one entire complex got restored, leading to its rejuvenation as well as that of its surroundings. For the residents, their existing lifestyle and social interaction continued uninterrupted. No additional pressure was created on the fragile infrastructure of the city (water supply, sanitation, drainage, electrical load and cars) due to the repairs and restoration.
Mumbai was the first city in India to enact heritage legislation in 1995 and has listed about 624 properties and 14 precincts. The Lal Chimney Compound property was not listed individually or under a precinct. However, in 2012 a draft list, initially of additional structures, was published, and the compound has now been listed as Grade III. In the subsequent modification made in 1999 by the government, cessed properties in Grade III and in precincts are now exempted from the purview of the heritage legislation. Thus we see the mushrooming of high rise in heritage precincts, despite so-called heritage protection under the law. The proposed draft list of 2012 is yet to be finalized and its fate will be decided depending on the public hearings. However, in a recent interim judgment, the Bombay High Court has opened the floodgates for redevelopment as Grade III buildings have been removed from purview of the heritage committee, leaving it to monitor only grade I and II buildings.
Time has taken its toll in some areas of the Lal Chimney Compound buildings that underwent piecemeal and ill-informed repairs in the past. It was also noticed that many tenants had themselves carried out repairs, additions and alterations, thereby changing the uniformity and the look of the building. Additions like box grills and projection of areas in the front open space were seen in some buildings, such as the Dadachandji building.
The lack of regular maintenance, ageing of buildings, insensitive extensions and alterations have resulted in the rapid deterioration of buildings in the complex. The corrosion in the jack arches has resulted in hogging of the floor tiles and cracks appearing in the flooring. New interventions in the buildings to suit modern lifestyles and hasty replacement of the old features to suit the purpose at the time, have also deteriorated the fabric of the built form. The common passages which define the character of the buildings abutting the street have been modified over the ages and have now become a chaotic mix, suited to individual needs. The symmetry maintained in the built form is lost when the railing becomes a brick parapet on the ground floor, wooden railing on the first and MS grill on the second floor. Vegetation growth was noted on the exterior sides of all five buildings. Termite infestation was seen at some places in the building and was not attended to holistically. The roof had not been attended to comprehensively in the recent past and required complete redoing as there was considerable leakage from the gutter areas. The Mangalore tiles were similarly broken or even completely missing at many places.
The repairs were carried out following accepted conservation philosophy and methodology, such as preparing of fabric status reports, use of like-to-like materials, which are compatible and traditional to the historic fabric of the building, undertaking minimum intervention only where desirable and essential, removing all insensitive accretions that had altered the cultural significance of the fabric, reviving the lost art of decorated ornamentation work, incorporating modern day needs and functions without compromising on the heritage character of the structure. The emphasis was on educating ordinary civil contractors to respect heritage properties and introduce the concept of skilled repairs.
The actual work done encompassed a complete replastering of loose plaster area externally, stitching of the cracks, recasting worn out slabs in RCC by retaining good steel joist. The rotted wooden posts and beams were repaired and re-strengthened and the worn out members replaced. Ornamental works like cornices, string courses, quoins, archivolts, decorative floral panels below the window sills were added back by reviving the traditional skills of the master mason. The openings were made by glazing, grill design and chajjas (weather shades). The sealed parapets of the verandahs were replaced with perforated teak balustrades. The teak louvres were reintroduced to allow breeze to enter the rooms. Internal replastering was done where essential, with a groove above the skirting to arrest rising damp.
Replacing the poor portions of floor slab with new time tested durable material, i.e., RCC slab; removing the floor tiles of common areas, where the slab was being recast and re-fixing new tiles that were uniform in pattern and complemented the building; providing completely new plumbing and drainage with new toilets for all tenants in Wadia building whereas for others only damaged pipes were replaced and redundant pipes removed, were among the measures carried out. So also complete roof repairs. Right from removal of tar felt, putting new wooden planks in gutter and applying lead flashing and new tar felt with double batten and relaying the tiles, complete external and internal painting was undertaken, including complete rewiring of the common electricals.
Conservation is a less travelled road in the city of Mumbai where redevelopment has become a craze. The project offers a simple and effective example of adhering to basic principles of conservation, i.e., minimum intervention, as a result of which precious resources are conserved, thereby giving a new lease of life to the fabric. Through refurbishment, the fragile century-old infrastructure is not burdened and the housing colony retains its social character – children play in the compound, the elders hang out in balconies and open spaces interacting with neighbours. In all ongoing redevelopment proposals there is no open space on the ground floor as this area is used only for parking cars. This project highlights Ruskin’s theory that, ‘We are just custodians of the heritage and our task is to pass this on to next generation.’
The project demonstrated to the government and policy makers that it only requires Rs 775/sq ft to conserve a relatively distressed building structurally and architecturally, whereas it would cost half that amount for buildings structurally not so distressed. In contrast, it would cost Rs 4500/sq ft for redevelopment; the present cess repairs that MHADA carries out amount to Rs 200/sq ft.
The way forward is to plan and integrate culture as a tool for urban development. This is possible if conservation of buildings, with incentives, is integrated into the development plan (DP) that is currently being prepared (2014-34). The JNNURM also address some of the issues like rent control reform, property taxes, among others, which are the key issues along with proper enforcement and implementation of the law. Some of these are highlighted below.
The development plan must acknowledge and integrate cultural resources, which has never happened. This is an ideal opportunity as the development plan is under preparation. Once conservation is integrated in the DP, heritage becomes an asset. For example, monuments, Grade I buildings with necessary protection to their setting, and so on, will help revive tourism and improve the image of the city. The existing and proposed heritage listing needs to be carefully reviewed, along with the need for balanced growth and conservation. The heritage properties and precincts should be mapped in the development plan with special by-laws that will help in preserving the cultural significance for which they are listed. Any large-scale development or redevelopment should follow good urban design guidelines that will also benefit the city. All reconstruction proposals should be discussed by placing the new development or building within a city model or by 3-D software as a part of the submission to the corporation. This will ensure that redevelopment is viewed comprehensively rather than as piecemeal, which is the current practice.
The original lease deeds are a useful tool; the inbuilt covenants of the deed will help in maintaining the properties. These should be checked and adhered to before granting permission for redevelopment. All free sops, like extra area for a minimum flat of 350 sq ft should be discouraged in case of development routed through developers since, in order to recover that additional cost, the saleable component increases and use of common amenities decreases, thereby affecting the quality of life. The government should modify the rules and not grant additional higher FSI for schools, hospital, and religious buildings that are heritage properties as it only hastens their demolition for redevelopment. No form of transferable development rights (TDR) can be loaded in heritage sites, precincts or in the buffer area so as to retain its ambience.
A wide range of incentives can be considered to encourage conservation and repairs:
* Encourage repairs and restoration of good building stock, i.e. modify rent control in heritage sites to start with, and commercial and residential properties subsequently.
* State governments should implement the model rent control act for residential premises (2010) enacted by the Union Ministry of Housing.
* The government should grant Repair TDR to all cessed and heritage properties as a major incentive, pending modification to the Rent Control Act.
* All tenants and landlords must give an undertaking that in lieu of such incentives, their buildings would be maintained for a minimum of 20 years.
* This TDR (less than 0.20) is marginal as compared to the TDR (of 4 or 5 ) given for reconstruction and can be used in situ as well. This will also ensure no increase in density nor will it overload the fragile infrastructure.
* Rebates or relaxed property taxes and discounted lease rents to be given to encourage conservation and increase such initiatives over redevelopment.
* Adaptive reuse, conversion, mixed use etc., should be encouraged in principle as it normally does not increase the density, nor does it load the fragile infrastructure.
* Quick permission should be given for repairs, reuse or refurbishment, and maintenance.
* Introduce a comparatively higher redevelopment cess for the redevelopment of all heritage sites where the funds would be used for conserving the neighbourhood and its infrastructure.
* Acknowledge and support the efforts of the owners who want to conserve. A sense of pride should be created for those who choose to conserve and repair their buildings as compared to those who prefer to demolish.
Some other steps that may be contemplated are the commissioning of studies to determine the impact of the prevailing by-laws on density, load on amenities or infrastructure and quality of life. Also, the incorporation of disaster management plans for all new development as well as for conservation of cultural sites.
Hopefully, this project, which was given the Unesco Asia Pacific Award of Distinction 2013, will help initiate other such restoration projects as also help modify the state government repair policy.
Alexander the Great conquered Persia in 331 B.C. and ended the Achaemenid Empire founded by Cyrus the Great. For the next five centuries, the Iranian plateau became ruled by other empires, until a new Persian dynasty took power. Fiercely proud of their roots, these new kings—the Sassanians—restored the might of their ancestors, drawing on their past to become feared conquerors, grand builders, and artistic patrons.
Horse’s head made of silver and gilded silver from Kerman. Fourth century. AKG/ALBUM
For more than four centuries the Sassanians dominated western Asia, expanding their empire and gaining lands from the Roman and Byzantine empires in the west and the Kushan empire in the east. To strengthen their connection to the past, they honored their leaders by carving reliefs of their deeds at Naqsh-e Rostam, the traditional resting place of the Achaemenid kings. Zoroastrianism became the state faith, and the government became centralized.
Sassanians grew wealthy, enriched by the trading routes (including the Silk Road) that passed through their realm. Centered in what is now Iran, the Sassanian empire was home to diverse ethnicities and cultures. It was known for its libraries, vast centers of learning, and soaring achievements in monumental art and architecture. By looking backward, the Sassanians moved their culture forward.
Return of the Persians
In the third century B.C., the Parthian Empire was born after overthrowing the heirs of Alexander the Great. Hailing from the northeastern region of Khorasan in present-day Iran, they controlled the area for roughly 400 years. Parthian culture was heterogeneous and had been strongly influenced by the Hellenistic legacy of Alexander. As Parthia grew more powerful, it rivaled the strength of Rome. (Here’s how suspicion eroded Alexander the Great’s empire.)
Although there were many conflicts between Rome and Parthia, a local revolt is what took down Parthian power in A.D. 224. Forces from Persis, a region in what is now southwest Iran, fought back against the Parthians. Their leader, a Persian prince named Papak, came from a noble family and was descended from a Zoroastrian priest, Sasan. Papak gave his son, Ardashir, a military command. Ardashir proved a successful commander and was able to seize control of several local cities in the early 200s.
Ardashir’s forces swallowed up more and more territory until he finally defeated the last of the Parthian kings and occupied their royal seat at Ctesiphon (near Baghdad in modern Iraq). Ardashir would become the first king of a new Persian dynasty, named after his grandfather, Sasan. To strengthen his ties to Persia’s imperial past, Ardashir adopted the traditional title Shahanshah (“king of kings”), as had the great rulers before him.
Ardashir reigned for nearly two decades and brought a new vision to the empire. He began to centralize power in order to consolidate his lands. Zoroastrianism, the traditional faith of his Persian ancestors, was installed as the official state religion to help strengthen his family’s claims to the throne. Ardashir also looked to expand the empire and continued to press any and all advantages his forces had against the Parthians’ old enemy, Rome. He would co-rule with his son, the future king Shapur I.
Imperial expansion
Taking power in A.D. 241, Shapur I built on his father’s grand vision. His expansionist ambitions were reflected in the title he adopted: “King of Iran and of non-Iran.” He continued to wage military campaigns on the Roman Empire’s eastern borders and found success during a time of political and economic instability for Rome.
Shapur’s troops killed the Roman emperor Gordian near Ctesiphon in 244. Philip the Arabian, Rome’s next emperor, had to sue for peace, an event gleefully recorded in Sassanian sources: “He gave us 500,000 dinars and became our tributary. For that reason, we re-named [Shapur] as ‘Victorious is Shapur.’”
For two decades Shapur continued to devastate Roman Syria and Turkey. Roman humiliation peaked with Sassanian forces capturing Emperor Valerian at the Battle of Edessa in 260. Some Persian sources paint a dramatic picture of the humiliations he suffered: When Shapur wanted to mount his horse, it was said that Valerian was dragged to him and forced to be the king’s human footstool. The exact circumstances of Valerian’s death are unconfirmed by historians—some say he was tortured and killed—but it is certain he died in captivity in 260. But the Roman governor of Syria took back large swaths of land from Persia. After a defeat around 262, Shapur attempted no more incursions into Roman territory. (After Valerian’s death, this rebel queen took on Rome and the Persians.)
Shapur also made territorial gains in the east. According to Sassanian sources, his forces seized lands in central Asia, including Bactria, Sogdiana, and Ghandara, which had belonged to the Kushan empire. To manage this sprawling empire, Shapur further centralized the system of government, creating a streamlined hierarchy in which power radiated from the king, who then delegated to a prime minister. Below them were four classes: the Zoroastrian priests (asronan); the warriors (arteshtaran); the commoners (wastary-oshan); and the artisans (hutukhshan).
The early gains of Shapur I plateaued in the fourth century. By the beginning of the fifth century, the front with the Roman Empire was largely stable. Sassanian forces extended their empire’s eastern bounds as far as China, but elsewhere they were suffering losses and setbacks. The people of eastern Iran, known as the White Huns, plundered parts of eastern Persia in the fifth century. (See the face of a man from the last days of the Roman Empire.)
A diverse empire
Sassanian kings ruled people of many cultures and ethnicities. The Silk Road passed directly through their lands, bringing not only wealth but also a huge number of visiting merchants from Central Asia, India, the Arabian peninsula, Egypt, the eastern Mediterranean, the Caucasus, Greece, and Rome. The outside influence of these people enriched the Sassanians financially and culturally, but complicated governing.
In the sixth century, Sassanian military and cultural power reached its peak under the rule of Khosrow I, who came to power in 531. He enacted a further wave of administrative reforms to ensure a quick military response to any external threat or internal rising. The country was divided into four regions, each placed under its own military commander.
Although Zoroastrianism continued to be the state religion, many other faiths were practiced in Sassanian lands, including Buddhism and Judaism. The Babylonian Talmud, one of the principal texts of Rabbinic Judaism, was composed under Sassanian rule.
At first, religious diversity had been permitted, but government repression would take hold. The third-century religious leader Mani, whose Manichean theology contains both Christian and Zoroastrian influences, was tolerated, but around 274 the Zoroastrian priesthood successfully agitated for his execution.
Astonishing Sassanian metalwork, and the grandeur of the dynasty’s stone reliefs at Naqsh-e Rostam and Taq-e Bostan have survived to proclaim the achievements of the last Persian kings.
Scholarship also flourished in the later Sassanian period: In the sixth century, Khosrow I founded the Academy at Gondishapur, where he gave refuge to Nestorian Christians fleeing persecution. These refugees brought with them valuable Greek and Syrian works on medicine and philosophy that the king ordered translated.
At the turn of the seventh century, Khosrow II continued to fight against Byzantium. Persian troops occupied Jerusalem, Rhodes, and Alexandria, and even came within sight of the gates of Constantinople, but these successes came at great cost to the empire. The long years of warfare had taken their toll financially and weakened Khosrow II’s grip on power. (Excavations beneath Jerusalem reveal layers of ancient history and long-standing tensions.)
A Byzantine military comeback, and the murder of Khosrow II in 628, led to a period of decline. To the south, Arab power was growing, and their leaders saw how weak the Sassanians had become. They first attacked Persian cities in 633 and went on to occupy Ctesiphon three years later. Arab forces toppled the last Sassanian king, Yazdegerd III, in 651. Islam became the dominant religion, but Persian refugees carried the Zoroastrian faith with them east to India.
The destroyers of the Sassanian Empire became its heirs. The Arab newcomers enthusiastically preserved and disseminated the huge repositories of learning at Gondishapur and other centers. The flame of scholarship, lit by the Sassanian kings, would later find its way to Europe, whose societies it would help transform.
Situated near Persepolis, the Naqsh-e Rostam necropolis contains the tombs of four rulers of the Persian Empire from the fifth century B.C.: Darius I, Xerxes I, Ataxerxes I, and Darius II. Centuries later, the Sassanian kings had reliefs sculpted in the lower part of the sepulchers to commemorate their own deeds and link them to the ancient rulers whom they considered their forefathers. In addition to Shapur I vanquishing the Roman emperor Valerian, victories carried out by later kings are also depicted, as well as a scene showing the investiture of Ardashir I, the founder of the dynasty, by the Zoroastrian divinity Ahura Mazda.
If you head to Clifton after passing Sind Club and Frere Hall in Karachi, you’ll come to a traffic signal at Lilly Bridge, with a piece of history on its left: Homi Katrak Chambers.
This stunning pre-Partition heritage building was bought by TPL Properties and will be converted into a luxury real estate complex. This is its story.
Photo: Twitter/@annusraza
The building’s story begins with a Zoroastrian businessman by the name of Kavasji Katrak. He came to India in the early 1900s and was based in Rawalpindi where he worked with a trader as a mid-level clerk.
Eventually, Katrak made his way to Karachi and set up a clearing and forwarding business called Katrak & Company.
Katrak got lucky when he came to Karachi. His business grew steadily and by the time he passed away, he held 20 different agencies. His firm was the first agent for Lever Brothers in Pakistan till the multinational company came to the country.
Katrak was also a great philanthropist, he made a lot of money and gave a lot away. He gave the city of Karachi some important monuments as well. A great example of this is the Katrak Bandstand at the Jahangir Kothari Parade in Clifton.
Then there’s the St Johns Ambulance building. No one is certain if Katrak built it or bought it, but he donated the building to St Johns.
You may also have heard of Katrak Parsi Colony located near Numaish, named in his honour. He built around 18 small flats for people who could not afford rent.
The family
The Katrak family patriarch had several daughters and one son, Sohrab. When Sohrab Katrak had two sons of his own, Jamshed and Homi, Cowasjee Katrak, their grandfather decided to give them a building each.
Jamshed, the eldest, got a building near Merewether Tower called Jamshed Katrak Chambers. Homi’s building Homi Katrak Chambers became a popular heritage site at the junction of Hoshang and Abdullah Haroon roads.
According to a family member: “I don’t know if he built them himself or bought them readymade but I know that at least for three generations: since he was alive, they have been family properties.”
In the early 2000s, Jamshed decided to sell his late brother Homi’s property. (Homi had moved to the UK to become a chartered accountant and settled there. He passed away after a battle with cancer.)
The family is unaware of who bought the building. When they asked Jamshed’s staff after he died in 2008, they were told that a lawyer bought it. For years, family and friends wondered that if the property had been bought, why was it just sitting there.
The residents
The building was split into apartments with garages for the residents and large gates which the children used to call “the elephant gates”.
The HKC used to have five flats upstairs and five below. The rooms were spacious and one room led to another. There was one bathroom per flat along with sprawling dining and drawing rooms.
Some of the residents included the Ravaian family, the Homji family, Hamdanis, Bahadur Shah family, Mr Pinto and the DeAbro family. Anwar Maqsood’s Ziggurat Art Gallery was set up here much later. On the ground floor, there was Niyazdin & Sons Tailors and Outfitters (1930) for upmarket customers and the Katrak Retail Store which was run by Mrs Pereira for years and then taken over by the strict Perin Katrak.
Recently, the Homi Katrak Chambers were bought by TPL Properties and will be turned into a residential-commercial property, confirmed its chairperson Jameel Yusuf. It was acquired in June 2017.
The pre-Partition mansion will not be turned into a high-rise structure but will maintain its status as a commercial-residential property. They intend to create a museum on the property as well. Yusuf told SAMAA Digital that the building’s facade would remain intact but they need to strengthen the structure. It will be a beautifully green building, he added.
