When we think of the present we invariably dwell on the myriad problems we encounter. The stresses, hardships and worries are paramount. But when we look back at the past, no matter how painful it may have been, we remember the days with nostalgia.
Thus when Framroze Patel of the US recalls his days at the Surat Parsi Orphanage he does so with warmth and gratitude. Instead of bemoaning his lot, the loss of his father, the separation from his mother and siblings, he refers to his kind mentors at the Orphanage and elsewhere who assisted and guided him.
Mehru Shroff in Delhi writes with good humor about the mischief she got into during her childhood and the whackings she got on account of her transgressions. Katy Rustom remembers the days when there was no electricity and one made do with kerosene lanterns. And how bullock carts were the mode of transport in Dahanu and how the foxes howled at night.
In all the recollections we requested our readers to write about there is hardly a sour note. Why do we look back with yearning or sadness but not anger? Why do we fondly recall the oil wick that used to flicker in our homes as versus the light bulb of today? Why do we not recollect the grief and worry equally? The anxiety of exams, the fear of being bullied, the financial hardships, the slights from family members or friends? Didn’t the joint family system have its pitfalls?
Is it that the passage of time makes us place events in a more positive perspective? That the irritants of today slowly dissipate as time goes by? That we believe it is from those troubles we developed character and strength that made us what we are; the triumph of perseverance over travails? And could we not bring the same thought processes to bear on the controversies that wrack our consciousness today?
But do things really change with time or is it only our perception that they do? Is it only technological advances that change the way we do the same things or do we do more than before?
Medical science has advanced. Life expectancy has improved. The middle class has grown. The freedom of expression is fully utilized by those who wish to exercise that right. The largest number of editorial pages in Parsiana are devoted to readers’ letters.
We can, through the internet, access information from anywhere in the world. A mobile phone service can be obtained in a matter of hours or a day or two. We can talk or correspond with people globally at a fraction of the cost we once paid. Poverty, illiteracy, gender bias, physical abuse and discrimination still exist. But there are more individuals and organizations today than ever before that strive to uplift the lot of the disadvantaged.
Does city life, therefore, dehumanize us? Does it deprive us of the social niceties we once observed? Do we have time to receive a friend or relative at the airport? Can we spend a full day or two attending a dear one’s marriage celebrations? Do we have the time to attend all the funeral rites of a relative or neighbor?
And yet it is in the cities that social barriers break down. Cities are great equalizers. We can’t determine who sits next to us in a bus or train or at a movie theater. We don’t know the caste or religion of the person who cooks or serves our meal in a restaurant or who has cleaned and tidied up our hotel room.
Despite the drawbacks what makes the past alluring is the sense of family and community ties. Every successive generation since has less of this closeness. The nuclear family denies children daily access to their grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins. And the elders are often isolated and sometimes forgotten due to the daily pressures.
The social organizations that should help ease the transition from community living to individual family units have still to be instituted. The Parukh Dharamshalla at Hughes Road run by the Bom