Rusi: 96 years young
From Delhi days in cricket whites,/ To convent school where he caused delight./ A girl’s school, mind you, where he thrived with flair,/ Young Rusi, the lad, with nary a care.
His father, station master Delhi railway station got Parsis a comfortable stay or a ride./ While Rusi with his champion school/university team let fly cricket balls with youthful pride./ For 20+ years the Persian Gulf he’d made his home with Villy and kids/ They had the world to explore and roam.
A popular pro in the air-conditioning, aero and hydrocarbon domains,/ A chocolatier, a party host, an innovative chef and historian he remains.
Rusi Sorabji: birthday tribute
For a decade California "Zs” laughed and roared at Rusi’s Halloween costumes, nine years in a row…/ As pregnant Rose of Texas… bursting, almost ready to deliver triplets any time. A brain surgery patient with a young Parsi nurse lovingly cupping his thumping ole heart./ Next year appeared another beautiful busty wooden slipper slapping Geisha./ Lastly, an exhausted Scottish piper in his hand-stitched kilt and black bear hat,/ With bag-pipes blaring a popular highland shanty./ In the hospital gown, Rusi dressed to amuse,/ Even forgot to cover his rear end that showed a bit of the cheek, to everyone’s cues!
Oh yes, this may rhyme not, but it’s true.
Rusi piloted planes, soared high around Californian wine country, wild fires,/ Golden Gate or whales, that returned a young known confirmed atheist,/ confessing before a party of Zoroastrians, that he had started praying again.
He captured the world with his camera and love, and so…/ Let’s raise a toast, let’s cheer and say:/ Happy Birthday, dear Rusi, on your special day.
MARY, JANE and PERCY KANGA
(paying tribute to Rusi Sorabji)
California, USA