Just as Parsiana has preserved our community’s voice for decades,
garas preserve the memory of families across generations
Zenobia Davar
Parsiana has always been more than a magazine: it has been a thread that stitched together Zoroastrians from every corner of the world. It shared our news, recorded milestones, celebrated achievements and reflected on our dilemmas. Each issue was like a mirror, showing us who we are as a people, small in number yet vast in spirit.
Over the years, Parsiana not only covered my journey as a gara revivalist, but also celebrated countless moments of Parsi life across the globe. It featured young Parsis excelling in academics, sports and creative pursuits, including my daughter. It shared the achievements, trials and triumphs of Zoroastrians worldwide, giving us a way to remain connected even across oceans. I think of Parsiana as a bridge linking Parsis in Bombay to those in Toronto, London, Karachi, Sydney, New York and beyond. A family wedding announcement in one part of the world reached relatives on another continent. An article on community issues sparked discussions at dinner tables thousands of miles away.
Parsiana embraced all topics, even those difficult or unspoken. It provided a platform where perspectives could be expressed without judgment and where our heritage was safeguarded with truth and care.
My personal journey with Parsiana began about 22 years ago. I was a young designer, full of passion but relying only on word of mouth to create awareness about my work. Parsiana gave me my first platform in an advertisement that was deeply personal. The models were my two children on their navjote day, dressed in traditional, hand-embroidered Parsi jhablas and topis, paired with off-white pants and sapats. These creations had taken over four months to embroider by hand. Seventeen years later, I used pictures from my son’s wedding in my advertisements. Just as my children grew into adults, my work too grew and found its place in the hearts of many.
Top: Zenobia Davar embroidering a gara;
above, from l: Nita Ambani and models wearing Davar’s creations
I first discovered embroidery in school and loved it. During summer holidays in Nowroz Baug, I spent quiet afternoons learning new stitches from my aunt. After marriage and the birth of my children, my husband and mother-in-law encouraged me to follow my calling. I went on to study fashion at Sophia College and began my label from home.
My husband’s aunt, the late Naju Daver, dedicated herself to educating our community about the importance of preserving heirlooms. She would implore people not to exchange their garas for aluminum utensils or cut them into curtains. She created authentic hand embroidery herself and safeguarded the art, a legacy that her daughter, Farzeen Daver Boomla, continues today.
Perhaps the work dearest to me is the restoration of old garas. Each one carries a family’s story stitched into silk. Restoring them is like breathing life back into memory. Every motif tells a story: the sparrow for humility, the pagodas for cultural bridges, the chrysanthemums for endurance. A gara is not just worn; it is lived. When someone brings me their grandmother’s sari, frayed or torn, I feel the weight of trust placed in my hands.
Garas remind me of Parsiana. Just as the magazine has preserved our community’s voice for decades, garas preserve the memory of families across generations. Both are archives of who we are, and both deserve to be protected. In many ways, my journey as an artist has run parallel to Parsiana’s. Both are rooted in heritage, holding on to what is authentic while evolving with time to remain relevant for the generations that come after us.
Community pride has always been at the heart of my work. India has given the world countless weaves and saris, and the Parsi gara is one of our proud contributions. Preserving it honors our ancestors and affirms our place in the broader cultural heritage of India.
The legacy I wish for my own work is simple. Authenticity and honesty will continue to guide it. Our younger generations will look at their hand-embroidered heirlooms with the same pride they give to their jewels. They will see in every motif the ingenuity, patience and love of the artisans who created it. Within these threads lie our culture, our stories and our very identity.
Though this is a farewell to Parsiana in print, its spirit will live on, much like the legacy of our garas. Neither Parsiana nor the Parsi gara has ever been only about fabric or ink on paper. They have always been about connection, memory, identity and love. Those threads, once embroidered into our lives, can never be broken.