Sanjan, a paradise lost

It is good to see that Parsis are fighting to preserve the environment at Sanjan and Tadgam. However, owning a property at Sanjan is a lost battle. My uncle owned some land and had a house there. After he passed away, my father had to make innumerable trips to Sanjan to get the land transferred to his name. Everything is controlled by the authorities at Valsad. Ultimately, a rich resident of Bom­bay bought the land and we were relieved of the burden.

During his attempts to sell the land, my father encountered many problems. The neighbors would block the entrances so that prospective buyers would run away and they could buy the land at a cheaper rate. Fortunately, the buyer was rich and powerful and I heard that he had succeeded in constructing a road up to the house.

Our land at Sanjan was a paradise that had been lost. The house was in a mess, filled with unnecessary things and there were bedbugs. The garden was overgrown with grass and weeds. But, many mango and chikoo trees grew there. The chikoos were small but the sweetest I have ever tasted. The mangoes were of an ordinary variety, but sweet. Flowers of rare species grew on their own, including a variety of orchid. After my uncle’s death, these rare flowers stopped growing — that’s what my father told us. Perhaps, had I gone to live in Sanjan, they might have bloomed again! Who knows? But I was not interested.

There was a very big well too, always filled with clean water though it had not been cleaned for decades. It was the only well in the vicinity that had sweet water which Adivasis from all over Sanjan would come to fetch.

Many of those who had bought plots and flats at Sanjan are repenting. People go there on auspicious days, listen to speeches, meet each other and eat gahanbar food. When you are with a group and in a party mood, it’s fine. But if you go to Sanjan or visit the Sanjan Stambh on an ordinary working day, the place is unbearably hot and utterly deserted.

RUSTOM A. HAVEWALLA

raslu@hathway.com