To Downtown Auckland

"Did you see the Parsiana cover with a rare picture of Cowasji Jehangir against the backdrop of the Jehangir Hospital in Poona?”

"Do you know the Poona Parsi Panchayat trust flats that are on an ownership basis are already booked up?”

"I am planning to have a bheja (goat’s brain) and masoor (a popular lentil) party. What do you think of the idea ?”

"Aaré (oh), the share bazaar is so good now. It is on a crazy high!”

"Do you know what salaries people in India are getting now? They’re awesome!”

"Ok, guys eat your hearts out. I am going to India in a week’s time and am going to gorge on all that lagan nu bhonu (wedding feast). Thank God there is a navjote lined up while I am there. I’ve already made a list of all the things I am going to hog on when I am in Bombay.”

"Ok don’t tell us otherwise we won’t be able to work all day. We’ll only be dreaming of all that yummy food.”

These are but a few snatches of conversation that stretch from Parsi Panchayat to politics; from bhakras and dar ni pori (popular community snacks) to the gori poris (fair-skinned women) who are quizzically looking at this bunch of yapetty-yaps who talk non-stop in a busload of straight jacketed people, the latter maintaining a strict silence whilst traveling to their work place.

The venue of this bawa roundtable is the old fashioned Howick & Eastern bus in Auckland (and not in Nana Chowk or Dadar Parsi Colony as one would have imagined) that winds it way through the picturesque landscape through rolling hills with horses grazing on the lush slopes -- all this juxtaposed with breathtaking seascapes that finally leads us to our final destination at Britomart, the commercial heart of the city. It’s undoubtedly a spectacular view but all eyes and ears are focused instead on the jabber that is right now based on the finer nuances of the Hindi phillums Salaam Namaste and No Entry till Shahazad interrupts with an announcement of a gahambar at Bucklands Beach community centre coming up next week.

Outside the Howick & Eastern bus (L to R): Ronnnie, Sohrab, Farhad, Khushroo, Delna, Farida, Ted, Shahazad, Mahiyar and Mahiyar

As you must have gathered by now everyone in this well opinionated group, is talking 19 to the dozen. Welcome aboard. We are a friendly lot even if we look boisterous and are a wee bit loud. It’s so much more fun discussing all that stimulating food for thought than sitting plugged in with your earphones and stiff upper lip with a don’t-you-dare-disturb me sign written all over your face. Like one of the Gujarati co-passengers who couldn’t help eavesdropping, once laughed. "Sitting with you guys in the bus, one is acquainted with all the khabar (news) in India. There is no topic that is left out in the 45 minute drive. Thank you for keeping us fellow Indians entertained.”

That’s precisely how I learnt to wrap myself in this oh-so familiar security blanket that keeps my soul warm on a cold winter’s day and sometimes on a hot summer day which can become chilling to the point of icy coldness. This is how I learnt how to laugh and even picked up some good natured swearing from my friend Benifer who first introduced me to the art of early morning masti majaa (fun and frolic) without a care in the world.

Gradually, our group of Parsi bawajis that normally comprises of Mahiyar, (two of them who share the same name) Sohrab, Shahazad, Farhad, Delna, Ronnie, Monaz, Gulshan, Khushroo and some others who occasionally join in on the early morning jamboree, multiplied. Then there were times when new emigrants or even the ones who catch the bus occasionally would introduce themselves and happily join in at the rear end of the bus.

Had the legendary playwright Adi Marzban been alive he would have probably written a sequel to Aavo Mari Saathe (Come with me) with this gregarious group in mind. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that on those rare occasions that I am a little early, I prefer to catch the later bus so that I don’t miss my nourishing morning session with my bus friends, followed sometimes with a quick catch-up during our lunch break since all of us work in the buzzing city area of Auckland. (Around 90 percent of the 840 or so Parsis in New Zealand live in Auckland.)

Thanks to this Howick & Eastern bus that touches Pakuranga (also known as Parsiranga) at 7.50 a.m., capably steered by our dear driver Ted Bastable who my friends have nicknamed Erachsa. We have been able to share our deepest fears and joys, our inhibitions and aspirations as we journey through the ups and downs of settling in a new land of adventure and challenge.

Now who would have thought that this motley group of bawajis would all be traveling together at the far end of the world! Why Ted even happily waits for us when we are a tad late and lets us in with a cheerful greeting every morning, thus setting the upbeat tone of the day.

What makes it an amazing journey of life is the fantastic sense of bonhomie, warmth and laughter that has been established as we traverse the well charted route of our bus number 14, to aproo (our) Downtown Auckland, in what has now been labelled as the ‘ New Zoroastrian land.’

Former editor of Stardust, Citadel and Society Fashion magazines and Poona Times daily Farida Master currently writes for The Aucklander and Wo-man’s Weekly. As Master states, "Having started my journey into the dream factory of larger-than-life-stars, who are hounded by doting fans, I continue to be intrigued enough to unveil the multifaceted personalities behind the public personas of leading lights in various fields.”