Among the myriad subjects Parsiana has covered, the history and contribution of Parsis to magic has received limited attention. That is why when John Zubrzycki, Sydney-based writer and author of Jadoowallahs, Jugglers and Jinns, A Magical History of India, offered to write on the subject, we were thrilled (see "The Magi and magic," pg 144).
Most Parsi magicians held regular jobs and magic performances were undertaken usually after working hours. The conjurers were all male. Sometimes Parsi women functioned as assistants. The father-daughters team of Mhelly, Pearl and Zenia Bhumgara prove to be the exception. One saw Mhelly and Zenia perform at World Zarthushti Chamber of Commerce meets in Bombay and Hong Kong. They have done well enough for Mhelly to quit his "high level corporate post and pursue his passion full-time," Zubrzycki notes. Zenia went on to win the prestigious Merlin Award in 2015.
Twenty years earlier, Rustom Bharucha reportedly became the first Parsi to win the Merlin Excalibur Award. The honor was "in recognition of 50 years of his steadfast adherence to the highest standards of magic," wrote Minoo Polson, president of the Eddie Joseph Ring Number 67 of The International Brotherhood of Magicians (see "What’s up his sleeve?" Parsiana, February-March 1997). His daughters Kashmira and Pervin assisted when he had to perform before large audiences.
Magic shows were popular additions at navjote and birthday parties. Magicians such as Ervads Dara Madon and his nephew Khushroo Madon performed, even when holding full-time jobs at Godrej and Boyce. Dara was drawn to magic after watching the Mighty Chiang perform at Excelsior theatre, recalls Khushroo. Enticed by the act but impoverished, he asked his older brother Naval, Khushroo’s dad, to give him some money to buy books on magic and later for small items used in performing tricks. These were available from street vendors and at fairs. For a small sum you could buy the equipment and also be taught a few tricks. Once established, Dara would order material directly from England or through Sam Dalal, a Calcutta based magician who imported the equipment from England, the nephew recalled.
One could make a living from magic, says Khushroo. When he performed shows, he would earn Rs 1,000 for a half hour performance. There were several Parsi necromancers at the time, Khushroo recalls. Aside from Bharucha and Polson, Khushroo remembers Tehmul Mistry as one of them.
Apart from studying and perfecting the tricks, equipment had to be carefully stored. "Apparatus (that constitute) collector’s items (are) quite costly and not available easily," Bharucha had told Parsiana. Even his family was not allowed to touch the apparatus. He insisted on doing his own packing and unpacking, a tedious and cumbersome task. He recalled an incident where one Parsi hostess, not realizing the importance of a magician’s apparatus, requested him to bring scarves of a different variety from the ones she had seen at an early demonstration!
When Dara stayed opposite Chowpatty sea face, he had a five-room apartment of which two were full with his magic paraphernalia. As he aged, he passed on two cupboards full of his material to Khushroo.
Berjis Desai’s "Unforgettable Bawas" column on "The magician" (Parsiana, September 7, 2018) based on his Uncle Dara noted, "The rear balcony was packed with cages containing rabbits and white pigeons, and occasionally white mice for the magic shows." After returning from his job as a chief labor officer in Vikhroli, Dara would "relentlessly work with carpenters to prepare contraptions like the mini guillotine and the invisible wires for the illusions he created on stage." For the elaborate illusions he hired several assistants, male and female, noted Khushroo. Jal Bhumgara, who also worked at Godrej, was his main assistant until the plant was shifted from Lalbaug to Vikhroli.
But aside from the magic performed by professionals on stage, there are also numerous stories of "advanced souls" who could materialize gold bricks out of thin air for worthwhile community causes. These performances were termed "miracles" rather than magic.
Bharucha was skeptical of such terminology. "There is nothing like miracles. It is all magic. And magic is entertainment." In a similar vein, magic historian Milbourne Christopher is quoted in Zubrzycki’s book as cautioning, "Always remember that what a layman thinks he sees and what the magician actually does, are not necessarily the same. Further, many spectators, in telling about tricks, invent considerably to make their accounts more interesting."
Magic is defined by some as "the artful performance of impossible effects." An article, "When the app came to India," (Financial Times, February 9/10, 2019) notes, "The smartphone seemed almost like a ‘magic device’ to some of the 273 Indians classed as illiterate during the last nationwide survey in 2011." We may add, to a lot of the literate also.
During the underground Metro tunnel controversy, those opposing the line passing under a portion of the H. B. Wadia Atash Behram where hands are washed and the kusti prayers are recited, claimed magnetic circuits connecting the fire to the core of the earth would be disturbed/cut. The fire temple would thereby be "destroyed." The line remained and so did the atash behram.
Bombay Parsi Punchayet trustees promised transparency and electoral reforms. But the Trust’s functioning is as opaque as ever. And reforms are languishing. The pledge by Pervin and Jal Shroff of Hong Kong to give USD 22.5 million (Rs 160 crores) for the survival of The B. D. Petit Parsee General Hospital could be termed "miraculous," but two applications have been filed in the Charity Commissioner’s office opposing the proposal.
At times of despondency, everyone can do with some magical moments. As Desai concluded in his column: "After all, what was happiness? You said, ‘Sim Salabi phoo phoo’ and your problems vanished into thin air." Jamshedi Navroz Mubarak!