Parsi Navjote

A little Wikipedia love: A Parsi is a member of a close-knit Zoroastrian community based primarily in India. Most Parsis outside of India identify India or Pakistan as their home country. Parsis are descended from Persian Zoroastrians who emigrated to the Indian subcontinent over 1,000 years ago. More recent Zoroastrian immigrants are known as Iranis.

The Navjote is the coming of age ceremony for Parsi children—akin to a bar/bat mitzvah or a confirmation. I had the pleasure of being invited to one for two sisters (around 9 and 12) in February. Given that there are estimated to be less than 100,000 Parsis in the world, this was an anthropological privilege. My notes…

The guests look self-conscious as they enter opposite the cameraman's lens. The red carpet shows the way. Black tie. Black Pantene hair is tossed. A photographer captures poses in front of the entry backdrop—like a Parsi movie premier. Rose trees, or rather trees made of red roses. Live band…is that Elvis?

Food for one thousand. Served on a banana leaf. One thousand banana leaves sacrificed. On my leaf: mini chapattis, edamame curry, fried onions mixed with masala spice, soft lentils; thin dill pancakes wrapped in more banana leaves. More naked banana trees.

Only three non-Indians out of the crowd. We’re at the same table, long and facing one direction. A Mexican stand off with the eaters at the table across the way. A full leaf of edamame and onions, and a comment: “Oh, I don’t eat outside our house.” “Oh, you’re like that,” I think.

Sparkling women, sparkling jewelry. Children are handed to maids. But, no one is dancing yet. Old women with flawless, fair skin whisper to each other. They sit to the side. Younger women shine. Emerald earrings as big as a basil leaf.

A collective buzz amongst those who know: Preity Zinta, the actress, has been spotted. Intricate black saris with bird-patterns twittering down the back. The maidens of honor nowhere to be seen. Of course, it’s more about the parents.

White lights dripping from overhanging trees. There they are. Girls under the gazebo toss rose petals over each other as they dance.