31

CHAPTER: II THE CROW EATERS

The Crow Eaters, Bapsi Sidhwa’s first published novel,

purports to be a succinct and satirical account of the success

story told to the youngsters in his later years by the Parsi

Seth Faredoon Junglewalla himself, the central figure whose

rise to fortune and social stardom we follow in the three

hundred-odd pages strewn with matters “local” and much

good-natured humour and drollery. (Hashmi 136)

The Crow Eaters, portrayed from a comic aspect, is a humorous

saga of the Parsi community; the life of Zoroastrians in various

perspectives has been brought to light in this book, because this

community is known for three things, i.e., surviving migration, peaceful

resettlement, and prosperity, without losing its cultural identity. Sidhwa

recreates history when she makes references to Parsi groups with a

detailed description of ethnic rituals as Navjote Ceremony, wedding,

death rites, and various tenets of Zoroastrian religion without any instinct

of attack and condemnation. Some serious touches are incorporated with

a blend of farce and satire in the entire work:

The protagonist, Faredoon Junglewalla, and all the major

characters of the book are Parsis, and that Parsi life and

32

rituals (including of [Navjote] ceremony, a wedding, death

rites, and aspects of Zarathustrian religion) are minutely

described in the book. . . .Rather, the characters and their

tendencies are satirized, exploiting those ethnic features that

are conducive to such satire. The Crow Eaters is not a novel

particularly about Parsis; instead, it is a novel whose

characters happen to be Parsis. The characters could well

have been Hindu or Muslim and a good deal of satire would

still have carried. . . .(Paranjape 90)

Accordingly, the novel is a powerful portrayal of author’s

consciousness about culture, and a comprehensive knowledge of

historical facts like Khuswant Singh’s A History of the Sikhs (1849), in

which he “commences his story of Sikhs. . .by presenting a lively sketch

of geographical, cultural, ethnic, religious, and political background of

his homeland. . .” (Qtd. in Singh, Pramod Kumar 105). The plot of the

novel draws a pre-Independence picture wherein the displacement of a

Parsi family is shown. Partition of Indian sub-continent is described with

fidelity and autobiographical touch in The Crow Eaters: “The novel

describes the social mobility of a Parsi family, the Junglewallas, during

the British Raj in the early twentieth century. The description of

. . .Junglewalla’s exploits is not just historical fiction but has a strong

autobiographical element also” (Dhawan 18). The action of the novel

33

comes into being at the turn of the century, and carries on to the eve of

independence and subsequent partition:

The Crow Eaters traces the fortunes of Faredoon

Junglewalla, Freddie for short, who lives his home in India

some time at the end of the nineteenth century for the fertile

plains of Punjab, settling down in Lahore. The Crow Eaters

might easily pass off as an Indian rather than a Pakistani

novel. While much of the story is situated in Lahore, the

story takes place before Partition. . . . (Zaman 108)

Jaydipsinh Dodiya puts it as follows:

The authenticity of Bapsi Sidhwa’s work is evident in

depicting the real experiences of living in Karachi and

Lahore where she continues to live. Her family, the

Bhandaras, a leading business family of Lahore for

generations, had migrated there in the last century. Bapsi

Sidhwa, who belongs to the third generation of Parsi settlers

in North Indian cities, was reared on fictional and real tales

of the entrepreneurial skills of the elders of her community.

Hence her narration of the exploits of Faredoon Junglewalla

and his family is a fine mixture of fact and fiction, historical

and autobiographical and real and imaginary. (81)

34

The same problem of the community (though Sikh) is highlighted

in Khushwant Singh’s book A History of the Sikhs; Pramod Kumar Singh

remarks: “Due to partition and communal riots, they were compelled to

abandon their huge properties there in Pakistan. . . .The problems of

resettlement and preservation of Sikh culture and its identity remained

unsolved up to a long time even in post-partitioned India” (117); on

account of highlighting the point of the Parsi community, Novy Kapadia

praises Sidhwa: “. . .changing social milieu and identity crisis which

Bapsi Sidhwa accurately depicts was distinctively visible amongst Parsis

in British India and is a social problem for many in the community, even

in contemporary India and Pakistan” (128-129).

The origin of Indian Parsis goes back to 3000 B.C., tracing their

ancestry and religious identity to pre-Islamic, Zoroastrian Iran; they were

among the Proto-Indo-Iranians inhabiting the South Russian Steppes,

situated on the eastern side of the Volga River. It is supposed that:

Zoroastrianism, the religion of the Parsis, flourished as the

state religion of three Iranian empires of the Achaemenians

(549-330 B.C.), the Parthians (248 B.C.-224 A.D.) and

Sasanians 224-652 A.D.). Amongst the many subjects of the

Achaemeenian Empire, were also the Jews, who adopted

some of the prophet’s main teachings and transmitted them

35

in due course to Christianity and which later went to Islam.

(www.gilbreth.ecn.purdue)

When the Arabs conquered Iran, and subsequently the Persian

Empire fell under their hold in the 7th century A. D., they tried to impose

their own religion on their subjects; by corollary, a small group of

Zoroastrians, in order to set themselves off from being proselytized,

sailed towards the warm shores of western India seeking freedom; Jesse

S. Palsetia also says: “The Parsis are the descendents of Iranian

Zoroastrians who migrated to and settled in India in order to preserve

their Zoroastrian religion” (1); about this, Jaydipsinh Dodiya claims:

Parsis brought this religion with them when they migrated to

India after the fall of the Sassanian Empire around 650 A.D.

According to a chronicle written in the 17th century, Kissah-

i-Sanjan (Story of Sanjan), the Parsis first came to India in

the 8th century. They landed in Diu, and were later given

refuge in Sanjan (Gujarat) by the local Hindu king, Jadhav

(Jadi) Rana. (3)

Parsis, also called Zoroastra by the Greeks, are the followers of the

message of Prophet Zarathustra, and the worshipper of Ahura Mazda;

according to Palsetia:

The Zoroastrians of India came to be known as Parsis, i.e.

‘Persians’ (inhabitants of the Iranian province of Parsis,

36

modern Fars) and as their name implies, for the Parsis, the

sense of their ancestral past remains both relevant and

important. The Parsis also refer to themselves as

‘Zarathustrians,’ ‘Zarthosti,’ ‘Mazdayasnans,’ to signify

their religious identity. . . . (3)

It is argued that Parsis are the last survivors of ancient Persia, a

territory which is now Iran and Iraq; even, Mary Boyce has asserted that

Zoroastrianism is one of the earliest-revealed monotheistic religions of

the world, which traces back to 3000 years; she also avers that it has left

its impact on Eastern Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam; Jesse

S. Palsetia also puts forth the same:

Zoroastrianism was the first major religion of Iran and a

living faith in the ancient world. It developed following the

division between the Indo-Iranian ‘Aryan’ peoples who

migrated the steppes of Asia to the Middle East, Iranian

Plateau, and North-western India, during the second half of

the second millennium B.C. The Indo-Aryans settled in

India, while the Iranians settled in greater Iran. (1-2)

Out of the total population of Parsis worldwide, more than fifty

percent live in India. Most of the Indian Parsis reside is Mumbai, while in

Pakistan, they are the inhabitants of Lahore and Karachi. What are the

key factors that motivated this minority community to strive for calibre,

37

despite their migratory factors that stumbled their way to survive, is a

core question; why they participate with enthusiasm in social, cultural,

and economic, except political, life of both India and Pakistan, is a

question that raises curiosity; their loyalty towards every ruler is also

interesting in the same way. Sidhwa, in The Pakistani Bride, has made

attempts to answer to the queries; this is the only book of its type, as in it,

the customs, social behaviour, and value systems of Parsis are depicted

for the first time in the series of Parsi writings:

The Parsi background and focus give additional significance

to this narrative, as very little is known generally of this

isolationist sort of community in the subcontinent,

particularly at a personal or imaginative level. As such,

recognition of the novel’s particular landscape is to register

time through a consciousness with which perhaps not many

outsiders would be familiar. (Hashmi 136)

Comparing her with other Parsi writers, Dhawan and Kapadia

remark:

Above all Bapsi Sidhwa is unique for focussing on the

Parsis, their customs, rites, rituals, traditions, loyalties and

mannerisms. Before Sidhwa only Nergis Dalal in The Sisters

(1973) and Perin Bharucha in The Fire-Worshippers (1968)

had focused on certain Parsi paradoxes and [behavioural]

38

patterns of this minority community. Due to their relatively

small population and policy of aloofness, Parsis remained

mostly unknown and enigmatic for non-Parsis. Such

unfamiliarity could provoke suspicion or prejudice. However

Bapsi Sidhwa by providing insights about the Parsi faith’s

antiquity, their culture and tolerance of other beliefs,

interspersed with buffoonery, burlesque and caricature,

creates a better understanding about her community. Thus

Sidhwa fulfills M. G. Vassanji’s concept of the essential role

of “the writer as a preserver of the collective tradition, a folk

historian and myth maker.” In this aspect also she is a trend-

setter, which later Parsi novelists like Firdaus Kanga in

Trying to Grow (1990) and Rohinton Mistry in Such a Long

Journey (1991) have tried to emulate. (25-26)

The Crow Eaters is an unusual passage to India which transports

the readers to the Parsi community much nearer and more acquainted

with, and prepares them to be familiar with a significant chapter of Indian

history, the partition of the subcontinent and the creation of India and

Pakistan as the two new peoples.

In Sidhwa’s novels, there always have been a strong sense of place,

Lahore, and of community, Parsi, also. The narrator of The Crow Eaters,

Faredoon Junglewalla, his family members, and other characters, like

39

their friends, all are Parsis like the author herself. The focus on Parsi

customs and beliefs, weaving the pre-independence history within a Parsi

milieu, and the exhibition of this minority community make the book is

much interesting and different from all the novels written on the same

theme; not only this, Sidhwa has also chosen a Parsi hero, which

marginalized her narrator and made the same a detached observer of the

horrific events occurred on the eve of partition. History moves in the

chapters of the novel with the portrayal of rebellion among Hindus,

Sikhs, and Muslims, and gradually reaches (at the end of the novel) the

occasion of 1947; at the same time, the Parsi, as an uninvolved citizen in

politics and the detached observer of the pogrom, look excellent, much

alien (from a native’s point of view), and thus makes the novel significant

from the gaze point of a reader as well as critics.

. . .the prevailing social milieu, developed an aversion to

identifying themselves with other Indian communities. This

led to a mental estrangement from India, for many Parsis,

without, however, finding an identity of their own, free of

both the English and other Indians. Being a shrewd observer

of human fallibility Bapsi Sidhwa reflects this identity

search in several situations and aspects in The Crow Eaters.

(Kapadia 131)

40

In this novel, Sidhwa also seems to advocate that to have

acquaintance with the whole impact of partition, it is necessary to see the

events through the lens of all communities as each community has been

the constituent part of the holocaust and has experienced the agonizing

division on its own individual level, and the treatment meted out to that

particular group has also been different; hence, the observation made by a

Parsi (totally different community and inactive in political activities) is

certainly from a new perspective; consequently, The Crow Eaters

presents a new scene prior to the historic divide, which is different from

the scenic portrayal of human slaughter and destruction in Chaman

Nahal’s Azadi, Khushwant Singh’s horrific description in Train to

Pakistan, violence causing irruption in the lives of ordinary men and

women in Manohar Malgonkar’s A Bend in the Ganges.

Faredoon Junglewalla, nicknamed as Freddy, was a strikingly

handsome man with a soft and pleasant voice. When he died at sixty-five,

he attained the distinction of being listed in the ‘Zarathusti Calendar of

Great Men and Women’. In his youth, as a penniless man, he had come to

Lahore with his wife, daughter, and mother-in-law in search of business;

where he launched a store and soon established himself as a successful

businessman. His manly bearing and soft-spoken manners quickly found

their way into Punjabi hearts; her mother-in-law was a constant source of

worry for him, because she did everything to disturb him.

41

An insurance officer visits the Parsi community in Lahore; Freddy

too gets his valuables insured; he makes a plan to win the insurance

money. Freddy saves the valuables of his store in a warehouse and then

sets his store afire to claim the insurance money, and he becomes

successful in this fake enterprise; after the episode of fire, Jerbanoo

changed and stopped creating problems for Freddy; in his presence she

remains as quiet as a fat little mouse. As the time passed, Freddy

expanded his business; as opportunity beckoned, he dabbled in a variety

of trades.

In the second portion of the novel, the focus shifts from Freddy to

his children; one day, he finds some salt in the drinking water, which was

an indication that someone from the family wanted to get married; he

made inquiries from his elder son, Soli, and daughter, Yasmin; but, both

were not interested in marriage. Soon after, his son, Yazdi, approaches

him with the desire to marry his class fellow, Rosy Watson, an

Anglo-Indian girl. Freddy could not allow him marrying outside the

community, so he clearly refuses. Yazdi, an over-sensitive boy, is upset at

the decision of his father. Having known the reality that Rosy is a part-

time harlot, his world staggers and he turns into an overly generous boy,

who wants to leave every luxury and who is eager to spend everything on

beggars; he takes his share from the family money, leaves home, and gets

himself busy in spending the monthly profit on beggars. In this part of

42

story, Sidhwa has not only made her readers acquainted with matrimonial

sanctions strictly imposed on Parsis but she has also raised the issue of

gender bias; at the same time, social prejudices against the women

engaged in prostitution are depicted, while men performing same pursuits

are shown free. As a taint on social history, the plight of such women is

revealed in the episode of Soli and Rosy Watson.

Freddy learns from a Brahmin, Gopal Krishan that his elder son,

Soli, will die in three months; the news makes Freddy displeased, though,

he does everything to escape the tragedy, yet all is in vain, and Soli dies

at the predicted date. This tragic event changes Freddy altogether; he

starts to take interest in religion, and the whole responsibility of business

falls on the shoulders of Billy who is a frugal and miserly person; Billy

has been conscious about money, right from the days of his childhood.

A matrimonial advertisement is published in the newspapers to find

a bride for Billy; Easymoney’s letter, out of hundreds of letters, received

in response to the advertisement, is selected, and Billy with his mother

Putli and his grandmother, Jerbanoo, goes to Bombay to see the girl,

Roshan; where Billy falls in love with Roshan’s sister, Tanya. After a

mild twist in the story, marriage between Billy and Tanya is settled and

both go to wedlock in a grand luxurious style. The Junglewallas leave

Bombay, four days after the nuptials, while the newly married couple

goes to Shimla for honeymoon; thereafter, when Billy and Tanya arrive at

43

Lahore, they are taken to a new house which is gifted by Faredoon. Putli

and Jerbanoo make problems for Tanya who at last complains Freddy

about them; Freddy, as a result, announces to take Putli and Jerbanoo to

London for a six month visit. In all their life, Putli and Jerbanoo have

been impressed by their English rulers; but when in England they see

them as a common man and woman, all their ideals about them shatter

and break; Jerbanoo takes a revenge (of this breakage) from Mary, the

wife of their host, Charles P. Allen; she taunts her and pokes her nose in

every matter of hers, and soon makes it unbearable for her to entertain

them. By and by things get worse; they have to leave the house of Allens,

and shift to a hotel; also in hotel, Jerbanoo creates a fuss by unlawfully

taking bath in the balcony; the man living under Jerbanoo’s room

complaints to the management, and they, in turn, go to Freddy; at this, he

decides to return to Lahore. Throughout their visit in London, among the

Britishers, this Parsi family is shown in a comic, humorous, and satirical

manner; at the same time, Parsi customs different from the English

culture come into light.

Tanya has to face a hard time during the absence of Putli and

Jerbanoo, as she is pregnant; she gives birth to a boy; at this time,

significance of the old ladies of the family is felt. Freddy finds the image

of his dead son, Soli, in the newly-born child. Now, Faredoon is on the

last phase of his life, and he loses his sense of taking challenges, striving

44

in the difficulties; he finds contentment to leave the entire management of

his business to Billy. He devotes himself to altruistic deeds, and starts

holding the audience in his office room. In the month of June, at the age

of sixty-five, Faredoon falls ill; he knows that his days are over and his

end is very near. In the last scene, he tells his children that if the country

faces a partition, they will be on the rulers’ side, and the object of their

lives will always be to obey the rulers and find the ways of their survival.

Independence of India is close at hand and the novel ends with this great

historical event.

To give the saga a life-like hue, various historical signposts have

been brought in; on a number of occasions, date is introduced, and

various historical figures, active in the independence days, have been

discussed; partition or independence moments are shown throughout the

novel, sporadically:

It is also brought to mind by Freddy’s friend Mr. Charles P.

Allen, whose name reminds the reader, particularly the

western reader, of Plain Tales from the Raj (1975), which in

turn evokes Kipling’s Plain Tales from the Hills (1888), and

the whole history of the British Raj in India. Subtly, through

these minor figures, Sidhwa is writing back against the

traditional pictures of the Raj—by implying that Colonel

Williams accepted bribes, and by showing Freddy arranging

45

visits to dancing girls in the Hira Mandi for Charles P. Allen.

The British Raj is thus transformed from the proud father of

so many British versions of history to the somewhat seedy

progenitor of Sidhwa’s version of Pakistan’s history. (Crane

49-50)

Sidhwa, as a Parsi, appears against the Pakistani interpretations of

the history of partition; at the same time, she raises voice, through her

novels, against the Indian versions of the same. Partition of the

subcontinent is around the corner, and a few Parsis conglomerated round

Freddy are discussing over the aftermaths of the upcoming division:

‘But where will we go? What will happen to us?’ asked

Bobby Katrak in half-serious alarm. The question, in varying

degrees of concern, was on all faces.

. . .Faredoon said softly, ‘We will stay where we are. . .let

Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, or whoever, rule. What does it

matter? The sun will continue to rise—and the sun continue

to set—in their arses. . . !’ (Crow Eaters 283)

In 37th chapter, Sidhwa has used the humorous technique in the

consummation of Billy’s marriage; like the previous episode (rooster

episode), its key traits are farcical, candid, and droll use of sex, and also

the dependence on physical awkwardness. Billy and Tanya travel in train

46

to Shimla for honeymooning; Billy ventures to kiss Tanya, but she bites

his tongue:

‘That’s how you kiss your mother or father,’ he said, gluing

his mouth to hers and forcing his tongue between her teeth.

Her mouth tasted deliciously of minty toothpaste.

Tanya struggled, pushing at him with her hands. Desperately

she bit his tongue.

Billy fell back with a cry. His eyes were smarting with pain

and humiliation.

‘What did you do that for?’

‘You are a filthy sweeper fellow! Haven’t you studied

hygiene? Poking your germs into my mouth!’ (Crow Eaters

227)

Soon after, Billy realizes that he is the first man to kiss her ever

and she is thoroughly innocent of sex, so their consummation still needs

wait; it occurs when they go on trekking to Jacco Hill, a renowned

monkey-sanctuary; it begins to thunder and rain, and unlike the

Bollywood movies, they don’t get any port in a storm, as to find shelter in

a deserted, ruined cave or temple; Tanya’s legs skid and she splashes

down in the mud; Billy tries to lift her, but she was unable to do so:

“Billy caught her from behind. . .he was unable to support her. In an

entwined, slush-soaked tangle they fell on the gritty ground” (Crow

47

Eaters 238). In an extreme passion, he kisses her and tries to undress her.

The fumbling misadventures of the honeymooners are less erotic than

amusing; the sexual acts of the newly wedded couple entertain the

readers.

In chapters 42nd and 43rd, the best parody can be seen when Freddy,

accompanied by his wife, mother-in-law, and children, visits England.

Jerbanoo is not familiar with the English ways of living, so, she couldn’t

adjust herself, firstly in the home of their host, the Allens, and secondly in

a hotel. She interrupts the social conventions around her; she avenges the

infuriated (on her silly behaviour) Mrs. Allen by defecating on a

newspaper in the centre of the landing of stairs; this act evokes the

laughter and at the same time, it indicates her unfamiliarity with the

behavioural ways of the English. Having expelled from the Allens’ home,

Junglewallas stay at hotel. Being a good Indian lady, which cannot live

without her daily baths, and having no bathroom attached with rooms that

were provided to them, she decides to use the walled balcony for bathing;

it slopes down into the street but Jerbanoo didn’t mind on drainage; that’s

why, a passerby from below says, “Blimey! God, we’re being flooded!

(Crow Eaters 268)” Finding no response, the man shouts again, “What

the hell’s going on up there? Do you hear me? Stop it—whatever you’re

doing!” After the man’s complain to the hotel authorities, Junglewallas

are thrown out; regarding the same incident, Paranjape comments: “. .

48

.verbal incongruity arising out of Jerbanoo’s pidgin and the Englishman’s

cockney, in addition to physical humour, the element of the ridiculous,

scatology, and the climax make this perhaps the funniest of the scenes in

the book” (93).

Yazdi falls in love with an Anglo-Indian girl, Rosy Watson, who

had been in his class from kindergarten; being a soft-hearted boy he gets

attracted due to her naivety and calmness that makes the girl alien from

all others. Everyday, when both of them meet in recess, she tells him a

new story of her exploitation at home:

She told Yazdi about her abominable step-mother, her

spiteful brothers and sisters. Every day she brought a new

story of suffering. He felt he glimpsed for the first time the

world’s sorrows. He was filled with compassion. He felt she

permitted him to peer through a rare keyhole on the world of

sadness. (Crow Eaters 126)

Once, after the absence of four days, she reaches school with dark

circles beneath her eyes and with a pale and weak face between the puffy

long hairs; she sobbed out her anguish that her mother and even father

thrashed her; she tells that they had also confined her to room without

food and water; in place of probing into the cause that provoked this

punishment, Yazdi’s heart fills with pity and he consoles her:

49

. . . .’Don’t cry, don’t cry,’ he begged in a barely audible

voice, stroking the weeping girl’s light brown, silken hair. ‘I

cannot bear to see you like this. . .you don’t have to live like

this. . .I will marry you and take you away from that horrible

house. I will marry you,’ he repeated with a determination

that made the girl raise her bowed head and look at him.

(Crow Eaters 127)

Yazdi tells his father about his affair innocently with an

expectation of parental support: “She is so unhappy, father. I’ve got to

marry her. I promised. . .and I love her. . .” (Crow Eaters 127). Freddy

argues that he doesn’t love the girl; in fact, it is the pity that provokes him

to marry her and exemplifies that a man cannot marry all those he pity:

. . .I pity the mangy dogs on our street, the beggars, the nose

less leper who comes every Friday—do you expect me to

marry them? Your heart is too soft. You cannot expect to

marry the dogs you pity!’

‘She isn’t a dog.’

‘No, but a mongrel. . .a mixed-breed mongrel.’ (Crow Eaters

127-28)

The word ‘a mixed-breed mongrel’ makes Yazdi understand the

root cause of denial that the girl is not a Parsi; Sidhwa has incorporated

Parsi impact, and hence tried to create a Parsi milieu, when Yazdi

50

glowers at his father and puts forth the logic: ‘What does it matter if she

is not Parsi? What does it matter who her parents are. . .she is a human

being, isn’t she? And a fine person. Better than any Parsi I’ve met’ (Crow

Eaters 128); alongwith the same lines, Sidhwa ventures to teach the

lesson of humanity by recommending it above all the religious faiths in

the world. She advocates that everyone in this world is a human being,

and every other thing has a secondary importance, so everybody should

be treated as a human being, not like a man or woman or a person hailing

from a particular religion; but the Parsi father esteems the Zoroastrianism

more than any other individual identity, to trap the boy of new generation

in the mesh of religious tenets. Freddy brings forth the ecclesiastical

logic: “You are too young to understand these things. . .may be I am too

old to understand you. But there is one thing I would like to explain to

you. Now, this is not something I alone believe. It is what our ancestors

professed; and our race will go on believing till the end of time” (Crow

Eaters 128); using more tricks, Faredoon Junglewalla becomes more

theological, and penetrates into the religion deeper to make the lad more

convinced and impressed with his statement and belief (in religion) as

well:

‘I believe in some kind of a tiny spark that is carried from

parent to child, on through generations. . .a kind of inherited

memory of wisdom and righteousness, reaching back to the

51

times of Zarathustra, the Magi, the Mazdiasnians. It is a

tenderly nurtured conscience evolving towards perfection.

‘I am not saying only we have the spark. Other people have

it too: Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists. . .they too

have developed pure strains through generations.

‘But what happens if you marry outside our kind? The spark

so delicately nurtured, so subtly balanced, meets something

totally alien and unmatched. Its precise balance is scrambled.

It reverts to the primitive.

‘You will do yourself no harm—you have already inherited

fine qualities—you have compassion, honesty, creativity—

but have you thought of your children?

‘In the case of the Anglo-Indian girl the spark is already

mutated. What kind of a heritage are you condemning your

children to? They might look beautiful but they will be

shells—empty and confused; misfits for generations to

come. They will have arrogance without pride—touchiness

without self-respect or compassion; ambition without

honour. . .and you will be to blame.’ (Crow Eaters 129)

In similar context, Sidhwa shows that Parsis consider their religion

above all other things; at the same time, she has underlined the religious

history of their Zoroastrian forefathers and their promise given to the

52

Indian rulers at the time of their arrival on terms in India in 8th Century

B.C.:

. . .out of the usual indices of ethnicity—race, religion,

language, nationality and state, the Parsis really possess only

two. These two identity markers are race and religion. The

label Parsi Zoroastrian refers to race and religion

respectively. . .only one who is born a Parsi can be a

Zoroastrian—as per the pact made with Yadav Rana—all

Zoroastrians in India are Parsi Zoroastrians. If such a person

converts to another religion or else s/he is not formally

initiated into the Zoroastrian religion, s/he remains a Parsi

but cannot be termed a Zoroastrian. (Bharucha 85)

Ergo, Freddy’s insistence on ethnic preservation, in order to

dissuade his son from marrying a non-Parsi, is, in fact, motivated by his

reverence towards his ancestors and his loyalty to keep their words given

to the Indian king as well; even the women are not far behind in this

matter:

As regards adapting customs to the British the novel shows

the gradual assimilation of British value systems in the Parsi

milieu. Putli tried to preserve certain Parsi customs, like

walking behind her husband. However her daughter Yasmin

after marriage ignores such notions as old-fashioned and

53

vehemently protests at the servile attitude of women.

(Kapadia 128)

This is a striking example of which Sidhwa, as a Parsi, has

presented all over globe; author’s love for her religion is also evident

here. On listening the gospel of his traditional father, the modern youth

(Yazdi) expresses his desire: “I will never swallow such disgusting

beliefs.” He even exposes: “I’d be ashamed to even think of such

rubbish!” (Crow Eaters 129) Conflict between modernity and tradition

can be realized easily in the logical conversation between a conventional

father (Freddy) and a modern son (Yazdi). According to writer, it is a

rubbish task for the new generation to follow the way which their

ancestors have walked on, and they even feel ashamed in doing so; to

accept the beliefs that their forefathers have been esteemed is quite

unbearable for the new youths; the author also seems to give a message.

Yazdi sends two poems to his father; in one she mentions the felt pressure

of religious taboos that separate both the lovers:

To the beauty of her eyes:

The eyes in your eye touch me deep down somewhere.

They require me most casually

To inquire into desire

While the world holds us apart. . . . (Crow Eaters 155)

In the second letter, Yazdi feels imprisoned in the shackles of society:

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Why does the uncertain void in me

Wish to perceive

Your form?

Who are you?

Remove the veil.

An undecided deep am I

And thirst is a fever.

Thankless of the blessings of Ahura am I

For I seek the impossible. . .

How can I fight the maniac force of society?

Of my father? (Crow Eaters 156)

Sidhwa appears to say that it has become a matter of history and it

should be preserved in the books of the concerned religion, and the later

generations should be given exemption from it; it might be left on their

will, whether they go by the examples their predecessors have made or

not; it is also the demand of the changing time. Through the logical

answers of Yazdi, author appears to convey that the changing era is

signalizing that it’s the time when youths will take their decisions as per

their own level, and parents cannot impose their conservative wishes or

the central tenets of Zoroastrianism made long ago; and if it is not

acknowledged by the parents, it might lead to a negative consequence;

what could happen in such condition is also predicted by Sidhwa; Freddy,

55

a religious-chauvinist father, use socio-cultural history as a trick to

compel his son to follow his wishes.

It has a long cultural history in India that a girl indulging in illicit

relationship is not accepted to be get married with somebody easily; Sita,

due to having spent fourteen years in the prison of Ravan, her abductor,

was abandoned by lord Ram, although, she went through an ordeal, i.e.

agni pariksha, to prove her chastity. Though, Ram knew that she is

innocent and holy like river Ganga, yet for the sake of society and in

order to make his kingdom a utopian state, he had to sacrifice his marital

life. The modern man also follows the same culture, he abandons (in case

of being already married) or rejects (in case, if marriage is going to take

place) the girl, blaming her to be unsocial, uncultured, and misfit for the

society. The same is done (as a trick) in case of Rosy Watson, whose

profession is prostitution; even Freddy himself had been intimate with

her; while talking to Yazdi, Freddy says:

‘And Rosy Watson?’ he asked, ‘What kind of English does

the whore speak?’

Yazdi glowered at his father. ‘How dare you slander a girl

you haven’t even met!’

‘Met! I have not only met her, I have fucked her. She is a

common little alley cat. It might interest you to know,

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Mr. Allen thought her breasts are like fried eggs.’ (Crow

Eaters 156)

The socio-cultural history of India never allows a son to marry a

girl with whom his father has established physical relationship; so,

following the traditional history, this father doesn’t permit his son to go

to wedlock the girl; within the same context, to preserve the ethnic

identity, teachings of Ahura Mazda are highlighted to be followed.

Sidhwa seems to be quite aware, while depicting the love affair of Yazdi

(a Parsi) and Rosy Watson (an Anglo-Indian), about the strong

restrictions (not to let marry a Parsi boy or girl with the person pertaining

to different dynasty) imposed upon Parsis by Zarathustra; that’s why, on

listening the name of Rosy Watson, Freddy speaks with surprise:

. . . ‘What kind of a name is that? I don’t think I know any

Parsi by the name of Watson.’

‘She’s not Parsi. She is an Anglo-Indian.’

Father and son were both as pale as whitewashed walls.

‘Come here,’ said Freddy in a strange, harsh voice.

His face twitched uncontrollably. Yazdi came round the

table and stood before his father. . .Freddy raised his arm and

slapped the back of his hand hard across Yazdi’s face. The

boy staggered back.

57

‘You have the gall to tell me you want to marry an Anglo-

Indian? Get out of my sight. Get out!’ (Crow Eaters 123)

In fact, Freddy was not conscious about the thinking of new

generation regarding marriage that his son, on being a Parsi too, can

choose a non-Parsi girl to get wedded with; that’s why, on listening such

a statement, he slaps his son Yazdi, and “this was the first time he had

struck any of his children” (Crow Eaters 123).

Faredoon Junglewalla, in his last-ditch attempt, resorts to the

history of gender-bias to divert Yazdi from his decision; the historical

perspective of gender-bias, in which a man of weak character can be

accepted but a girl or woman indulged in the same pursuit can’t get her

nitch in the society by getting married with a man, and it happens with

Yazdi to make him convinced that Rosy Watson is not the girl, who suits

a socially well established boy like him. Gender-inequality is dominant,

as Freddy himself has been intimate with the same girl, so how can he be

fit for or deserving to live in the same, so-called civilized society.

Sidhwa, in the same texture, indirectly raises questions regarding the

prevalence of the norms and beliefs made by their ancestors; Through

Yazdi’s renunciation, Sidhwa tries to symbolize that if a harlot, like Rosy,

cannot be accepted by the society, then how can a man, like Freddy, who

has been indulged in the unsocial act of prostitution, which Rosy has been

accused of, live in the main-stream of the so-called society of Pakistan.

58

Author adroitly ventures to indicate the gender-discrimination in the

novel, The Crow Eaters. Freddy, being a male, is treated as a respectable

human being in the society, in spite of his involvement in prostitution, a

heinous social crime, while on the hand, Rosy, being female, is

condemned and not accepted as dignified match for Yazdi by his father,

Freddy: “Reflecting the Parsee patriarchal society, the sons get more

coverage in the novel. Yazdi falls in love with Rosy Watson, an Anglo-

Indian girl with disreputable family background but when he realizes the

fact, he renounces the world. . .” (Dodiya 113).

Billy was a modern Parsi boy who insists on to marry Tanya

instead of Roshan, and unlike Yazdi, who is trapped tightly in the mesh

of religious matrimonial sanctions, gets his will fulfilled, otherwise, his

parents might have kept on hassling him to go down the aisle with the girl

of their choice; the two contradictory incidents in the same family show

the parents deep-rooted in the tenets of religion. Yazdi’s wish to marry an

Anglo-Indian girl is rejected, while the preference of Billy for Tanya is

accepted after a little uproar; Sidhwa here seems to convey that inside the

faith, there are various alternatives, but inter-caste nuptial bonds are

strictly prohibited. Thus, author reveals the history of matrimonial

sanctions in the Parsi religion; praising Sidhwa’s wherewithal, Novy

Kapadia rightly remarks:

59

Her most perceptive insights are in presenting the marginal

personality aspect within the Parsi milieu. Most Parsis in the

novel are shown as cultural hybrids, living and sharing

intimately in the cultural life, traditions, languages, moral

codes, and political loyalties of two distinct peoples, which

never completely interpenetrated and fused. (135)

Gopal Krishan, a Brahmin, is the expert of birth-sheets (janam

patris), and he is introduced to Freddy by Mr. Bottliwalla. How Freddy

becomes trusted in the Brahmin is not only interesting but also significant

to expose his (Freddy) superstitious nature. Gopal Krishan tells him a

fascinating tale: on a visit to Jhelum, where his sister resides, he

purchases a betel-nut paan at one of the roadside stalls; he puts the paan

in his mouth and when he is about to throw off the stained pipal leaf

wherein it is wrapped, he beholds some lettering on the wrapper. The

Brahmin is a Sanskrit scholar interested in ancient languages; with the

help of the books and a lot of effort, he made out the script; it was: “You,

the fifth incarnation of the scholar Rabindranath, will find me. You will

unravel a whole treasure house of knowledge. Look after the treasure

carefully. Use it for good. Do not exploit it for gold or fame” (Crow

Eaters 160). Brahmin says that janam patris are the fruit of a lifetime

dedication; he also adds that every child and the man residing in the land

of five rivers (Punjab) will have their future revealed in janam patri:

60

Freddy found himself readily believing the man’s story. For

Freddy was of India: and though his religion preached but

one God, he had faith in scores of Hindu deities and in

Muslim and Christian saints. His faith taught heaven and

hell, but he believed implicitly in reincarnation. How else

could one reconcile the misery, injustice, and inequity of life

in the scheme of things? (Crow Eaters 161-62)

Having read the pipal leaf that he has picked up from the stock of the

leaves in his house, Gopal Krishan tells precisely Freddy about his past:

“Freddy felt the man was giving a slightly inaccurate interpretation to the

message contained in the leaf. He let it go at that, but he knew what the

janam patri really meant. It was like a delicate and secret communication

between him and his patri” (Crow Eaters 164). Brahmin foretells that one

of Freddy’s sons will soon breathe his last; suddenly, all his (Freddy’s)

senses become conscious and he becomes more conscious of the man,

and inquires curiously about the name of the son, who unexpectedly dies.

Brahmin predicts that his eldest son will go to meet his maker before he

completes an age of twenty one years, and later, it turns out to be true. In

the evening of the fifth day of December Soli’s death confirms that what

the Brahmin had foreseen was in accordance with facts. In this way, the

death of Soli shifts attention to the history of superstitions in the

subcontinent prevalent in those days; it also presents a lively picture of

61

Indian society, wherein the minds of the people are wrapped with the

sheet of myth:

In India there is still a cornucopia of ancient Aryan wisdom,

of esoteric knowledge, of incredible occurrences. A lot of it

is superstition and a lot of it is mistaken for superstition.

There is a real throbbing fear of black-magic—and visual

evidence of its craft is everywhere. There is Kali, the

goddess of death and destruction and disease. And on days

when she holds sway, mothers keep babies indoors. They

warn their children not to step over broken eggs, little

mounds of cooked rice, coloured chalk and entrails of

animals, strategically placed on sidewalks by evil adherents

of the art. Brain and trotters are not eaten on such days; or

liver, or heart—for it is not only the vegetarian Hindus who

believe in the black art, but all those who are of India.

There are ghosts and spirits and dains, witches disguised as

women, who give themselves away by their misshapen feet

that point backwards. And when they remove their shawls of

an evening, thinking they are alone, embers can be seen

glowing from braziers built into the witches’ sunken heads.

(Crow Eaters 159-160)

Bapsi Sidhwa has shown Freddy as a superstitious father:

62

India is magic: it always was.

The word ‘magic’ comes from Magi and Faredoon was a

descendant of the Magi; the wise men of antiquity initiated

into the mysteries of medicine, astrology, mysticism and

astronomy—disciples of Zarathustra.

Hinted at in the Gathas, Songs of Zarathustra, the knowledge

is now lost to the Parsis. Legend says it was withdrawn when

unscrupulous elements degraded the knowledge to sorcery.

(Crow Eaters 159)

In the last chapter of the book, young Parsi couple is portrayed as

modern; readers find a glimpse of British or Western life in locality

wherein Tanya and Billy’s bungalow is situated, and both “. . .were

utterly ashamed of traditional habits and considered British customs,

however superficially observed, however trivial, exemplary. They

entertained continuously at small, intimate, ‘mixed’ parties where married

couples laughed and danced decorously with other married couples”

(Crow Eaters 245). It is also noteworthy that Putli never ceases to hate

such parties, while the modern couples are portrayed taking much interest

in them; such depiction of young ones, especially Parsis, reflects

Sidhwa’s astute observation about the lives of Parsis in a historical and

cultural perspective. On one side, she portrays the traditional parents

(Freddy and Putli), while on the other, Yasmin, Billy, and Tanya are

63

depicted as characters, having modern outlook, and who reject the

superstitious cultural-faiths. Yasmin protests Putli saying that “. . .it’s

stupid to walk behind your husband like and animal on a leash—Oh

mother! Hasn’t Papa been able to modernise you yet?” (Crow Eaters 190-

91) the use of word ‘yet’ draws the attention of readers and scholars

towards the need of a series of amendments in Parsi customs. Sidhwa

seems to say, under the guise of Yasmin, that gone are the days when a

wife is confined within the framework of patriarchal society, now she can

walk ahead of her husband. Young generation is recreating history in

accordance with circumstances and need of the new era. In an interview

with Valentina A. Mmaka, Sidhwa says: “Most Parsis are very

comfortable in the religion to which they belong. I don’t believe much in

the ritual of religion, but I would never dream of changing my faith”;

Parsis like Yasmin, Billy, and Tanya can be felt embedded in the first

clause of the last sentence; the second clause as well as the first sentence

reflects the thinking of Parsis like Freddy and Putli.

Bapsi Sidhwa has not only thrown light on the history of Parsi

faith, customs, rituals, and traditional pursuits but she has also underlined

the necessity of a major change in all these religious beliefs, as a lot of

time has passed when these rules and sanctions were made and

implemented on their followers, and this modification will revolutionize

the faith.

64

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Boyce, Mary. Zoroastrians: Their Religious Beliefs and Practices.

London: Routledge, 2001; first published in 1979.

Crane, Ralph J. “A Passion for History and for Truth Telling: The Early

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