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Tribute to a traditionalist

Though the late Adi Doctor’s views were esoteric, committed Zoroastrians of any hue are comrades in arms
Berjis Desai

There was poignancy in the tributes paid to Adi Doctor in the latest issue of The Parsee Voice, the newsletter of the Ilm-e-Khshnoomists, the ultra orthodox group. Doctor, a bachelor, who died recently at Bombay, was a bank official, Western music critic, a writer and speaker, a professor, and most importantly, a lifelong exponent of Ilm-e-Khshnoom (IeK). He was a vocal spokesman for the hard core traditionalists. A defeatist undertone was evident in these tributes, as Doctor’s disconsolate followers conceded that without their leader, The Parsee Voice may not survive.
 
 

  Adi Doctor: unflinching faith


This columnist never had occasion to interact with Doctor, though we had crossed pens over the last two decades. For Doctor, we were the din dushmans (enemies of the faith), religious "deformists” and heretic scum. We returned the compliment by terming him and his brethren as fruitcakes who constituted the lunatic fringe of the community (rather strangely, The Parsee Voice, in its obituary for Doctor, seemed to regard these terms as evidence of their being protectors of the faith). At its peak, the debate grew shrill and strident. For Doctor, persons like the editor of this publication, Dinshaw Tamboly of the World Zoroastrian Organisation Trust Funds, the Wadia brothers, Kerssie and Vispy of ARZ (Association for the Revival of Zoroastrianism), the late Jehan Daruwalla, editor of Mumbai Samachar and this columnist, were anti-Parsi and pernicious. The din dushmans retaliated by arguing that Doctor and his tribe were spewing racism and putting off the youth by their Taliban-like tactics.
By all accounts, Doctor was honest, kind, led a spartan life and dedicated himself to the cause he espoused. Unlike the mainstream orthodox, he was not a politician. He used to say, "I’m not orthodox. I’m ultra orthodox.” We wonder if he ever felt any self-doubt about his lifelong views, as he witnessed the traditional citadels falling one after the other. The increasing proportion of interfaith marriages, the dramatically desolate demographic trends, a liberal high priest and the ever shrinking number of authentic traditionalists must surely have distressed him. However he continued to espouse his views against organ donation, making Udvada a world heritage site, admitting even the children of interfaith married Parsi men into the faith, renovating agiaries, providing prayer hall to cremated Parsis, extra religious worship, World Zoroastrian Congresses and cremation. Preserving racial purity was his credo. Probably, Doctor coined that memorable phrase — "Tokham ni jalavani né boond ni paasbaani (preservation of racial/genetic stock)” — much lampooned by the reformists.
Doctor was never shy to espouse unfashionable views, however preposterous they sounded to liberal ears. He was convinced that the esoteric writings of Behramshah Shroff and the Chiniwala brothers, Framroze and Jehangir, exponents of IeK like him, were the only truth. Though even he steered clear of the controversial Minocher Pundole, a  latter day IeK exponent, and his many "miracles” including reportedly conjuring up the exact number of mutton cutlets for his devotees in an Udvada hotel (even though Pundole preached vegetarianism!).
Doctor propagated that the sahebs of Demavand koh (mountain) supervised the affairs of the faith and the community’s future was secure. Doctor’s unflinching faith did not, however, lead him to suggest that the sahebs were also looking after Bombay Parsi Punchayet affairs, which were presumably beyond even their extraordinary powers. Doctor did not exactly love the World Alliance of Parsi Irani Zarthoshtis (WAPIZ) but nevertheless supported them to keep the din dushmans at bay. By keeping its membership open to children of interfaith married Parsi men, WAPIZ greatly disappointed Doctor. For a purist like him, any such concession would only open the gates of our faith to marauding barbarians.
Doctor believed that every Parsi was duty bound to protect the faith and its traditions. The slightest deviation from tarikat (strict observance of religious diktats) would upset the balance of nature and was a cardinal sin. None could deny that Doctor had the courage of his convictions. The liberals may call it xenophobia, but for Doctor even the slightest opening of the doors of our religion to non-Parsis was sacrilege.
While we may have been rough with Doctor on occasions, we were always conscious that persons like him, despite their seemingly barmy views, had the same goal as the reformists he so deplored, namely, preserving the faith and the community. Hard core traditionalists like Doctor and the reformist opposition are both concerned about what happens to the community, unlike the silent majority who are either indifferent or mildly curious. To an honest, compassionate and committed Parsi, with whom we violently disagreed on everything under the sun, farewell. We sincerely hope that The Parsee Voice continues to be published and soon sheds its poignancy and regains its stridency, without which life would be so boring.

Berjis M. Desai, managing partner of J. Sagar Associates, advocates and solicitors, is a writer and community activist.