Can you imagine an aerial view of the majestic Dadar Parsi Colony last Sunday at 10.45 am? It looked like God was playing Pac-Man. After having quickly finished our morning ablutions, zealous Zoroastrians of all ages and sizes stepped out of their heritage homes, almost with clockwork precision weaving their way through the charming colony lanes to assemble at the lush green lawns of the five gardens at 11 o clock sharp. The stoic sun had already begun sweltering but that did not deter creaky Cawasji and limping Limji on their walking sticks. Ageing couples with hunched backs but heroic spirits walked hand in hand beside the younger brigade that was represented by Mithoo’s missionaries and Rustom’s rockstars. Hundreds of Parsis congregated for a common cause – and surprisingly for once it wasn’t free food.
