“Publish and perish?”

Congratulations. "Publish and perish?” (Editorial Viewpoint, Parsiana, June 21, 2009) was after my heart, and this time I was not depressed but elated. But please don’t do anything willy-nilly, do it with gusto and the courage of your conviction.

Yes, there will be opinions/views/comments/criticisms, et al. Mostly from persons with vested interests. Don’t worry about them. Be steadfast in your belief and just do it. Read Rabindranath Tagore’s Ekta Chalo (Walk Alone).

I don’t know what your poison is, may be Royal Salute, Chivas Regal, Single Malt or Old Monk, but at least spare a glance for the advertisement of Johnny Walker. I did when I purchased two Blue Labels from the duty free shop at Bangkok airport. The attendant handed me a give away, a peaked-cap with "Keep Walking” written on its peak. So do what you are doing, and if possible become a weekly.

Please publish views of all hues, as you are doing, let various voices be heard, and let none be muzzled for vested interests, petty politics or partisan and biased diehard groups. Let bawas put on their thinking caps and apply their minds, remove charbi (fat) from their bhéja (brain) and do some mental exercise. Let there be debate without fear or favor and without goondaism as was the case when Ervad (Dr) Kersey Antia came to Bombay and spoke to the bawas on Zoroastrianism.

As the song goes, "I beg your pardon I never promised you a rose garden. Along with the sunshine there’s got to be a little rain some time.” So life is not a bed of roses. Kismat ki hawa, kabhi garam, kabhi naram (fate is sometimes good, sometimes not so good).

May I take the liberty to quote my personal experience? I reside in a Parsi colony [not one run by the Bombay Parsi Punchayet (BPP)]. Among the residents are filthy rich bawas with cars, chauffeurs, cooks, ayahs, air-conditioners in every room, the works. One fine day they decided to repair the compound roads and a meeting was called. To ride piggyback on the less fortunate they decided that every tenant, whether he owned a vehicle or not, would have to shell out Rs 5,000. Thereafter, one day a woman (the gossip of the colony) accosted my son in the compound and told him "every tenant has to pay Rs 5,000 for road repairs and if you don’t pay up we will write to the trustees.” After she finished her blah blah, my son told her to please speak to his dad as he was not the tenant.

As a result a letter was addressed to the trustees, a copy of which was put on the trustees’ notice board and also pasted on various walls in the compound. The letter inter alia stated "tenants X, Y, Z, A, B, etc financially not capable,” whereas for me it was mentioned "Not approachable.” And that was that.

Now I need some medicine for my addiction to Parsiana, and for once as it is not depression but elation I have ordered roast duck in orange sauce with two Parsi pegs of Blue Label, which cost me a bomb. And am listening to Frank Sinatra sing I did it my way.

BEHRAM AGA

behram_r_aga@yahoo.co.in

The editors reply

Our poison? Water, at room temperature, not shaken nor stirred.