One question that we have not been asked yet but should have is has the Parsi community in India passed the point of no return? The sad answer is yes, and not only numerically but also institutionally.
Fertility has been gradually declining and the government of India census figures show a drop in numbers from 1940 onwards. Eighty-five years ago the Parsi population in India was 1,14 ,890. The census for 2020 has still not been held but when it is, the Parsi figure may be around 40,000 or less (it was 57,264 in 2011).
Even if the declining figures are dismissed as a myth can we say the same for our faltering institutions? We don’t see many Parsis at navjote/wedding celebrations (a loss and concern for caterers). The bookings for baugs have declined substantially even during December and January, considered the peak season. Could so many Parsis have migrated? The informal count of overseas Zoroastrians does not reflect that.
Even pure-blooded Parsis are forsaking fire temples, often opting for cremation or where possible burial and marrying non-Parsis. The panthaky of one agiary in Bombay bemoaned to Parsiana that on an average two devotees visited his fire temple in a day and the daily income generated was less than Rs 100. From where would the money come for salaries, kathi, maintenance of the structure and so on? He confessed he was at his wits’ end trying to manage with such few footfalls.
If the objective of creating fire temples was to serve as a place for Zoroastrians to worship, they are clearly not serving that purpose. If, on the other hand, they were constructed to house a sacred fire — the son (not daughter) of God as some people believe — they fulfil that need at present as long as there are enough priests and sufficient money to sustain them. But a deity needs devotees; a king, courtiers and subjects. They are not geared to remain in splendid isolation.
Accommodating two or more sacred fires in one agiary may not be a viable option either. Although it might free up space for alternative use in the original abode, the cost of kathi per fire would remain unchanged. Further, the priest would need to tend more fires a day, adding to his workload and making the calling even less attractive than it already is.
The Bombay Parsi Punchayet (BPP)has started The Seth Kobad Rustomji Noble Kathi Fund with a corpus donation of Rs 75 lakhs and is seeking funds to ensure a steady supply of wood from baval trees to sustain the fires kept burning 24 hours a day. It may be money well spent if devotees frequent the agiaries; otherwise the funds could go up in smoke. And even if the trust manages to garner funds to keep the fires burning, find and fund priests, maintain the structures, provide security, comply with all the regulatory requirements that government keeps introducing to maintain a stranglehold on non-government bodies, how will it manage other formidable obstacles? Remember, an aging community has fewer earning and able members. If you do not have priests you can have a dadgah fire as our ancestors had burning in their homes. But are these an acceptable alternative to a consecrated fire housed in a dedicated building?
While keeping track of community institutions, Parsiana too has fallen prey to the ills that plague the community, mainly a dearth of new entrants to the profession. Readers, subscribers and advertisers were caught off guard when we announced that October 21, 2025 would be our last issue. Was it a question of finance? Could not somebody else run it? Couldn’t we find youngsters interested in community journalism? Could not the editorial content be outsourced? Could not well meaning individuals volunteer their talents at least on a part-time basis?
The closure of a private establishment is accepted as a routine occurrence. The cessation of Parsiana though evoked interest from many do-gooders little realizing that qualified and experienced personnel are required to run a publication, especially a niche one like Parsiana focusing on the international Parsi, Iranian and Zoroastrian communities. Aside from an in-depth knowledge of journalism, the editors/reporters and support staff would need to be familiar with the community, its decision makers, trends, history, religion, strengths, weaknesses.
When the community bemoans the impending loss of Parsiana it is lamenting the absence of a publication that covered the community in a particular way with its own take on events, developments and personalities. The occurrences and individuals we chose to glorify or vilify may be quite different from the approach another publication or set of journalists may choose to portray the community.
When we took over Parsiana from the founder Dr Pestonji Warden in June 1973 and published our first issue that August, we believed it would be months if not years before advertisers would come forth. But the very next issue, of September-October, sported three advertisers, Shapoorji Pallonji and Company, K. Wadia and N. S. Guzder. By our third issue we had the additional support of Air-India, Tata Chemicals, Jeena and Company, and Central Bank of India. It was reassuring that an unknown and untested publication brought out by obscure individuals with a liberal bent of mind could garner such generous and spontaneous support. We never had to look back. Fortunately, Parsis are large-hearted, thoughtful and caring, ever willing to support a community cause they feel serves a purpose.
Warden had started Parsiana in November 1964 as a new medium for old wisdom. He wanted to spread information about the religious teachings of Zoroastrianism, amongst other things. He was a general practitioner with no journalistic training or background and ran two sandalwood retail outlets under the name of Warden Sandalwood. He submitted a few columns initially and once stood for BPP trusteeship elections, parading with a triangular placard calling for universal adult franchise. His relative Dadi Pudumjee recalls that when Warden acted in a play, Zoroaster, The Splendoured One directed by Roshan Kalapesi, he placed copies of Parsiana on the seats in the auditorium!
Warden’s desire was to see the magazine continue. When the present management took over the publication from him in exchange for one rupee, he laid down no conditions on how Parsiana was to be run or what editorial stand it was to take. All he wanted was for us to mention in the magazine for two years that he was the founder. Each institution is created with a purpose and a goal. The community has to decide which institutions need to be salvaged and which to be sacrificed.