Parsi with a passion!

At the Modi Colony, the Parsi love for antiques is amply evident. In the old grandfather-chairs that dot the balconies, the odd flower vase and the crocheted table linen. Here, the old does not just fade away. It lives with the present, blending gracefully to give it a deeper meaning.

For a colony that is 65 years old, it is only natural that it be inhabited by many old people. At 85, Faram Batliwala is one of its oldest tenants. He moved in here when his father rented an apartment in the first building for just Rs. 2. In the 65 years since his family has grown, the colony has been the binding influence.

Today, when he sits to sip his daily quota of two pegs of whiskey, he is not alone. His younger son, Rusi, and his grandson live with him, while all his other family members, including his other son, Firoz, live separately but in the same colony. Says Rusi, 8220;My parents just celebrated their golden wedding anniversary. Till recently, they were game for anything. A few years ago, we hired a tempo and all of us went to Mumbai for a navjyot ceremony. It was uncomfortable for my father, but my mother and he still enjoyed the trip.8221;

That seems to be the essence of the inhabitants of the Modi Colony. The hope for a good life and the ability to seek joy from whatever they have. This hope is reflected outside every single door in the colony, in the form of dainty white rangolis with just that dash of colour.

Says Mahrouk Batliwala, Rusi8217;s wife, 8220;This rangoli is a must for Parsis. Unless there is a grave illness or death in the family, we put it everyday. Otherwise it is a shagun, a forbearer of all things good and pure.8221;

The famed Parsi good nature is evident in the rangolis even outside locked doors. Says Mahrouk, who put this auspicious rangoli outside her neighbour8217;s locked house, 8220;If I can do it for my home, why not for his too?8221;

On festival days like the Parsi New Year, Jamshedji Navroze and January 1, the colony entrance has a huge rangoli. Besides, some bandwalas come and pay a visit to every house in the colony. Says Firoz, 8220;They make a lot of noise, not music. But we look upon it as a heralding of good fortune. At the end of the performance,8217; we pay them some money and off they go to the next house.8221;

If they wish well for their neighbours, they also share their grief. Says Mahrouk, 8220;When someone dies in our building, we don8217;t switch on the TV or the music system for four days. It8217;s like a mark of respect.8221;

Respect. Seems to be the key word here. If respect means a concern for others, it is found aplenty in this colony. Evident not only in the vegetable bag picked up by a kid for an elderly lady but also in the way they treat their domestic workers. Says Roshanbi Sayyed, who has been working in the colony ever since she was a kid, 8220;My mother worked here and when she I died, I took her job. I like them because they are very kind and talk very nicely to us.8221;

For Sunita Kharat, whose mother also worked here, it is 8220;their helpful attitude that endears them to us. Whenever we have a problem, an illness or a marriage, they help us financially.8221;

Not just the people but even the surroundings are near venerated. The colony is spanking clean and the maintenance speaks volumes. Says Viloo Satarawala, a senior citizen residing there, 8220;The management has two women who sweep the society premises twice a day. Besides, mosquito fogging is done regularly.8221;

The 20 buildings with four tenements each are all rented. Here, none can be the owner of a place and the tenancy changes hands when the old tenant dies. Says Firoz, 8220;We have to make an application to the trustees and only those who cannot afford a home elsewhere are given tenancy. The trustees verify this. Only when satisfied, is a person given membership.8221; And the support system that comes with it.

Says Viloo, who lives alone as her son is married and on assignment in the USA, 8220;I am very happy here. Though I live alone, I don8217;t feel lonely. When I did not have a telephone, my neighbour would allow me to take calls even late at night. Besides, getting ill is not so much of a problem for us here. People rush to our aid when any of us is ill.8221;

One community, one society, does the sameness get a bit too much sometimes? Not really. For 15-year-old Cherag Madan, who is a priest, it is thanks to the Modi Colony that he could concentrate on his religious studies. 8220;In any other place, I would have been unable to concentrate so much. Here, people understand the importance of religious studies.8221;

Says Farnush Patel, who just finished her Std. X, 8220;It8217;s because I live here that I have so many friends. All of us are Parsis, and the commonness makes it easy to build relationships. I don8217;t think this would have been possible in a cosmopolitan society.8221;

Not just friendships, in some cases, there have been marriages too. Twenty-five years ago, Mahrouk and Rusi, both of whom grew up in the Colony, tied the knot. Says Mahrouk, 8220;There have been two or three couples like us but they have since moved out.8221;

But for some of them, this very oneness is stifling. Says 21-year-old Neville, son of Rusi and Mahrouk, a thoroughbred progeny of the Modi Colony his great-grandfather first moved here, his paternal and maternal grandparents both live here as do his parents, 8220;I know it for a fact that I will never live here once I get married. Only when you get out of this colony can you know a life that is non-Parsi.8221;

But for the rest, life at Modi Colony is the only kind of life they would want to know.