Parsis and the Zoroastrian Faith within the Contemporary Singaporean Demographic.
Written by Tanisha Verma, Edited by Alcan Sng
The fire had a vehemence to it; roaring with unmitigated fervour, echoing the chants of the Parsis in attendance. Although only present through teleconferencing, I couldn’t help but be enthralled by the prayer house as the prayers and chants commenced at the Parsi Zoroastrian Association of Singapore. The room was ornately decorated: the floor was covered with what seemed to resemble Iranian antique Persian rugs, and the walls were inundated with portraits of their transcendent creator deity, Ahura Mazda.“Zoroastrianism.” Inter-Religious Organisation, Singapore, iro.sg/Zoroastrianism/ Notably, the ornamentations that were used to furnish the prayer room shared a striking similitude—they all depicted the natural world.
The Parsis are an ethnic group, mainly residing in the Indian subcontinent, that follow the Zoroastrian faith. Their ancestors fled modern-day Iran in fear of persecution from the Muslim conquest in Persia in the 7th century CE. I had been unaware of the sheer importance of the motif of nature within the Zoroastrian milieu. However, the more I interacted with the Zoroastrian customs, the more I understood the essence of their nature-driven ethos. While attending the virtual Ashem Vohu (the Parsi prayer), I was able to hear the numinous sounds of the sacred utterances of worshippers around me. The priest, authorised to perform the sacred ritual, vocalised his invocation in a rather monotonous manner, bearing semblance to Buddhist or Hindu recitative mantras.
As the individuals devoted their attention to the Ashem Vohu recitation, I was astonished by the range of emotion in their practice of devotion towards the Ashem Vohu and their nonchalant disposition, almost mellow and easy-going. While some devotees were passionately uttering their recitations, resolved, others were trotting from one end of the room to the other, rendering their recitations whilst somehow maintaining a sense of allegiance towards the Ashem Vohu. I quickly began to recognise the discrepancy between the outward perception that individuals held of the Parsi community as compared to their inner reality—the perception held towards the Parsi community being rather the insular apropos of their matrimonial customs that often shrouds the views of many outside the community given their patriarchal tradition, wherein men are able to engage in inter-faith marriages, whereas women who do so are often shunned and their families are not initiated into the Zoroastrian faith.
I realised, from this very instance, that the inner reality of the Parsi community cannot be generalised. I soon began to become conscious of the subjectiveness of religious performance within the Zoroastrian milieu. The degree to which a Zoroastrian engages in their faith is contingent on their belief towards it. This notion was further cemented in me by interviews I conducted with my interlocutors, who for the purposes of confidentiality, shall be referenced in this ethnography through the use of pseudonyms.
Singapore, upon being “founded” by Sir Stamford Raffles in 1819 was utilised “as a criminal settlement for Indian convicts.”Infopedia,“Parsi Road.” Infopedia, National Library Board Singapore, 13 Apr. 2003,https://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/infopedia/articles/SIP_281_2005-01-26.html. Indeed, the first Parsi who migrated to Singapore was recorded as a felon.Infopedia,“Parsi Road.” Infopedia, National Library Board Singapore, 13 Apr. 2003,https://eresources.nlb.gov.sg/infopedia/articles/SIP_281_2005-01-26.html. It can be noticed how from the outset of the Parsi community’s correspondence with Singapore, they were hegemonised, and due to their miscreant status, were subject to disrepute. The reason for this remains unclear to date.
Consequently, I wanted to examine if remnants of this colonial status proliferated within the Parsi diaspora in contemporary Singapore: what did the Parsi diaspora look like in contemporary Singapore? How does this micro-minority of 300 relate to the larger Singaporean population of 6 million?
I conducted a semi-structured interview with “Afareen Mazda,” a Parsi woman, and her daughter. This arrangement allowed me to discern the Parsi viewpoint, especially in regard to upholding their cultural practices and norms within the contemporary Singaporean context through the vantage points of two distinct generations. Afareen mentioned that her family had migrated to Singapore for her husband’s work. She mentioned how contemporarily, a lot of Parsis are located outside of India for occupational purposes, especially given the global movement of people and capital. Given the micro-minority status of the Parsi community in Singapore, she mentioned how grateful she was to have six other Parsi families within the accommodation she inhabited. As Afareen verbalised her relations with the Parsi community present at her residence, I was able to discern her fondness towards them; a tonal shift in her manner of speaking, from an impersonal to a more affectionate tone. The absence of cultural variation between these Parsi families had engendered a kin-like bond between them. Afareen mentioned how these families would bond over shared meals and food. This inter-household preparing and sharing of food perhaps evoked a sense of nostalgia (a highly communal sentiment) within these Parsi families, roping together their affinities with each other and further strengthening their kin-like bond. On the subject of food, I was graciously offered various South Asian delicacies by Afareen throughout the interview. I quickly realised the benignancy of the Parsi culture, and their embrace of all they come across. Upon my interactions with my interlocutors, I realised that their highly affable nature is a definitive trait that delineates who they are, in all of their glory.
Given their amiable conduct, I inquired about their bearing within Singapore’s pluralistic demographic. Essentially, I wanted to understand the reception that the Parsi diaspora receives from the larger Singaporean demographic, given their highly cordial approach towards other cultures. Both Afareen and her daughter mentioned how living in Singapore’s culturally pluralistic milieu as a Zoroastrian is an unburdensome and facile task. It seems significant here to consider how the Parsi community has always been surrounded by interracial societies (having been persecuted from Persia and migrated to a country like India, with its own a concoction of cultures and religions). Hence, the Parsi demographic is well-accustomed to being an outnumbered social group amongst a multitude of ethnicities, and thereby homogenising themselves amongst diverse populations.
Consequently, I asked Afareen whether it is arduous to “make a mark” (generating space for their identity) as a cultural demographic within the Singaporean context, to which she responded by saying how “there is no need to make a mark.” She asserted how the Parsi diaspora and the Zoroastrian faith have been “welcomed” with graciousness within the Singaporean cultural milieu. The interlocutor went on to mention how the multicultural and interreligious atmosphere of Singapore breeds a culture of inclusion, welcoming micro-minority ethnicities such as theirs. The all-embracing environment, one can assume, allows the Parsi community to merely be. The notion of being unquestioned and unscrutinised within the Singaporean milieu empowers the Parsi diaspora to endure, thereby their indifference towards “making a mark.”
As our interview progressed, I posed to Afareen whether it was difficult to preserve and perpetuate (for generations hereafter) the Zoroastrian traditions and cultural practices in Singapore. The answer I received from Afareen seemed to hint at the paradoxical nature of the sustentation of the Parsi identity within the Singaporean context. Afareen mentioned how despite the country a Parsi resides in, they would always be characterised as a micro-minority. Hence, authenticating who they are to differing cultural milieus is a reality they have hitherto internalised.
Afareen’s daughter mentioned how upon stating her name in class on her first day at school in Singapore, the response she received from her classmates was nothing short of staggering. Having never been exposed to Parsi names within this cultural sphere before, many children described her name as being considerably “manly.” This incomprehension served as consilience for individuals’ lack of knowledge of the Parsi culture due to their micro-minority status within Singapore and beyond.
Withal, the interlocutor’s daughter further posited how she was the only Parsi in her school. Hence, by virtue of her cultural identity, the exclusivity that was attributed to her (within the confines of her school) did not demoralise her in any sense. The notion of authenticating their identity is one that they have internalised; the interlocutor’s daughter stated “it is nice being different.” The hospitality of the Parsi people surfaced again. Rather than being dejected by the circumstance, the interlocutor’s daughter alternatively used this occurrence as an opportunity to enlighten and educate her peers on her cultural identity. Promptly, I realised how the Parsi community relished in educating others about their heritage—they derive pleasure from acquainting individuals with their ways of being.
Knowing how the Parsi population has been acclimatised to the micro-minority position, I probed Afareen about potential social and systemic structures that made practicing the Zoroastrian faith onerous in Singapore.
Foremostly, Afareen mentioned how in the Zoroastrian faith, the presence of a burning fire, known as a diya, is of focal importance. It is important to note how Zoroastrians are not fire worshippers, rather they worship the symbolic divinity and significance of what the fire epitomises; the element of fire in the Zoroastrian faith symbolises purity and “the illuminated mind” that never extinguishes, embodying the “the light of God (Ahura Mazda).”BBC “Religions – Zoroastrian: Worship.” BBC, 2 Oct. 2009, www.bbc.co.uk/religion/religions/zoroastrian/worship/worship.shtml Nevertheless, despite the sheer importance of the presence of fire in Zoroastrianism, Afareen mentioned how there is no fire temple in Singapore, as fires cannot legally be left unattended. The absence of a fire temple has various negative repercussions on the Parsi community.
Afareen mentioned that when she resided in Mumbai, the fire temple was situated right in the middle of her colony. The centrality of the temple, and consequently the ease of commuting for the entire colony, allowed various socio-religious activities to transpire on a daily basis. Conversely, given the restrictions imposed by the city-state, the likelihood of the coming together of Parsis, in high concentrations, to perform religious activities in Singapore is diminished.
However, the interlocutor highlighted that the Zoroastrian faith did not have a singular idol that they worshipped. Rather, they are essentially nature worshippers, hence the apparent divinity of fire. The environment of Singapore, one can imagine, is highly conducive to this form of worship, as tropical Singapore is inundated with symbols of nature. Notably, my interlocutor’s apartment was situated right next to the sea, granting them the opportunity to worship this divine energy every morning. Despite their insistence on conserving their tradition, it is incredibly interesting to me how the Parsi community has localised symbols of nature to the Singaporean context, surfacing their pliable disposition as a community.
Perhaps, the incentive behind living in that very apartment was the fact that they had a panorama of the sea outside the window. Nevertheless, my interlocutor rigidly asserted the importance of religious subjectivity within the Zoroastrian milieu. She reminded how just because they were highly religiously inclined, it did not mean that another Parsi family was. I had to pay heed to the fact that this was merely a singular narrative that did not constitute the beliefs of Zoroastrians as a whole. From my conversations with my interlocutor, I figured how religious subjectivity mediates how an individual of the Parsi community interacts with their cultural and religious practices. The religious subjectivity of each Parsi household, my interlocutor alluded, was contingent on various factors, spanning from their credence in the faith itself, to the degree to which they practised Zoroastrian rituals.
My interlocutor and her family were largely traditional in their engagement with and salvaging their religious heritage. Examining their household, I discerned how the aesthetics of their household embodied the naturalistic ethos of the Zoroastrian faith. These ranged from paintings depicting a naturalistic ambience, to certain naturalistic accents on the table runners. My interlocutor’s household bore a slight resemblance to the prayer room at the Parsi Zoroastrian Association of Singapore (picture depicted at the beginning of the article). It was apparent that my interlocutor’s family truly saturated themselves and the spaces they occupied with their cultural and religious heritage. She also mentioned how given that they were currently geographically distant from their country of origin (living in Singapore), they wanted to inculcate their tradition and heritage in their children, and hence wanted to salvage as much of their culture as they possibly could. The effects of globalisation and modernity within the twenty-first century drove my interlocutor and her husband to heighten their attempts towards salvaging Zoroastrian tradition, to further preserve whose extinction is formidable.
With the intention of salvaging their heritage and enriching the religious education of their children, my interlocutor and her husband compel their kids into wearing a symbolic thread and cloth inside their shirt every day. These objects are a replica of traditional Zoroastrian ceremonial objects that individuals are given in their coming of age ceremony. The corporeal nature of these objects avails in reminding the children of their heritage. Consequently, the replication of their Zoroastrian indigenous objects increases “access to knowledge” by reinforcing archaic modes of learning and education.Isaac, Gwyneira, Robin Boast, T. J. Ferguson, Haidy Geismar, Chris Gosden, David Lowenthal, Howard Morphy, Nancy J. Parezo, and Gwyneira Isaac. “Whose idea was this? Museums, replicas, and the reproduction of knowledge.” Current Anthropology 52, no. 2 (2011): 000-000. They serve as a stark reminder of the cultural emblements that signify who they are and where they come from.
My encounter with the Zoroastrian customs has been limited, but from what I have been exposed to, it has become apparent that despite some slight impediments that make preserving their heritage arduous in Singapore, they have endured jovially. The ritual processes that they perform to salvage their heritage is a testimony to their belief and faith in their tradition: a truly wholehearted, unfeigned, and delightful undertaking.