Vanishing vultures feed Parsi burning row
Posted: Mon Jun 05, 2006 7:29 pmSource: Calcutta Telegraph, India
Vanishing vultures feed Parsi burning row
- As Tower of Silence looks to sun to dispose of bodies, scholars see death of a tradition
SAMYABRATA RAY GOSWAMI
The Malabar Hill area, where the Parsis’ dakhma or the Tower of Silence is located. Picture by Gajanan Dudhalkar
Mumbai, May 31: A swarm of vultures circling over one of India’s most upscale urban districts might not have made a pretty picture for many. But they served a crucial spiritual purpose for followers of an ancient religion that does not allow its dead to be buried or burned. Their dead were fed to the birds.
But that was more than a decade ago, before urban development and accidental poisoning almost wiped out the vultures.
Mumbai’s small and influential Zoroastrians, better known as Parsis, now face a religious crisis: how to dispose of their dead in the absence of the birds, for their religion provides no other option.
The problem has left the Parsis divided, caught in a tug-of-war between pragmatism and tradition.
The Tower of Silence, or dakhma, where the community places its dead is in Malabar Hill — a neighbourhood overlooking the Arabian Sea and home to film stars, politicians and stock brokers.
Many of them are not comfortable with the idea of a Tower of Silence and a horde of scavenging vultures in the vicinity.
It usually took around half an hour for about 50 vultures to finish their part of the ritual, cleaning a dead body of flesh, seen as spiritually impure.
Without the birds, Mumbai’s dakhma now relies on solar concentrators to magnify the sun’s effect on the bodies, which Khojeste Mistree, a Parsi scholar, sees as a problem.
“Who are they fooling? They’re actually burning the body,” Mistree says.
“It’s like a cheap fix, but theologically it’s totally wrong. The body is totally charred, like a victim of burns. It’s terrible.”
Minoo Shroff, chairman of the city’s Parsi Panchayat, the largest community trust, dismisses this. He argues that the blackening effects of exposure on a body are similar.
“Besides, something needs to be done quickly because the panchayat has in the past faced threats of lawsuits from deep-pocketed local residents complaining about the stench.”
“We are not looking at it as scholars,” Shroff says. “We have to look at it from an administration, managerial, hygienic point of view. We have to look at the entire community, not just the Parsis.”
The dakhma had also briefly tried using chemicals, but pall-bearers refused to take part because of the “ankle-deep sludge” left behind, panchayat trustee Dinshaw Tamboly says.
Another proposal, backed by environmentalists and traditionalists alike, was for a huge aviary around the dakhma where vultures could be bred.
Supporters say no more than 75 captive birds would be needed to consume the average three Parsis who die every day in Mumbai, while sceptics suggest that figure is 100 vultures short.
The panchayat says the aviary idea remains on the back-burner, and insists it has little money to support it.
“The community is divided. We don’t have a pope here. We are guided by very many people,” Shroff says.
India’s vulture population has plunged because of diclofenac, a painkiller used on the cattle that the vultures generally feed on, explains Isaac Kehimkar of Bombay Natural History Society.
“The drug has now been banned, but a huge damage has already been done. It is a problem unique to this region because of the sacred status of cows.
“They lead full lives and require medical treatment in their advanced years. So you’ve got a whole load of cattle and therefore many more carcasses than if the cattle had been used for purely commercial farming,” Kehimkar adds.
Having fled Iran centuries ago, there are about 40,000 Parsis in Mumbai, representing more than a quarter of all Zoroastrians.
They have played a formidable part in the history of India’s financial capital and are known for their philanthropy.
“Our last act of charity was with the vulture,” Mistree says. “That’s the tradition that we have grown up to follow, and that tradition has come under threat.”
Vanishing vultures feed Parsi burning row
- As Tower of Silence looks to sun to dispose of bodies, scholars see death of a tradition
SAMYABRATA RAY GOSWAMI
The Malabar Hill area, where the Parsis’ dakhma or the Tower of Silence is located. Picture by Gajanan Dudhalkar
Mumbai, May 31: A swarm of vultures circling over one of India’s most upscale urban districts might not have made a pretty picture for many. But they served a crucial spiritual purpose for followers of an ancient religion that does not allow its dead to be buried or burned. Their dead were fed to the birds.
But that was more than a decade ago, before urban development and accidental poisoning almost wiped out the vultures.
Mumbai’s small and influential Zoroastrians, better known as Parsis, now face a religious crisis: how to dispose of their dead in the absence of the birds, for their religion provides no other option.
The problem has left the Parsis divided, caught in a tug-of-war between pragmatism and tradition.
The Tower of Silence, or dakhma, where the community places its dead is in Malabar Hill — a neighbourhood overlooking the Arabian Sea and home to film stars, politicians and stock brokers.
Many of them are not comfortable with the idea of a Tower of Silence and a horde of scavenging vultures in the vicinity.
It usually took around half an hour for about 50 vultures to finish their part of the ritual, cleaning a dead body of flesh, seen as spiritually impure.
Without the birds, Mumbai’s dakhma now relies on solar concentrators to magnify the sun’s effect on the bodies, which Khojeste Mistree, a Parsi scholar, sees as a problem.
“Who are they fooling? They’re actually burning the body,” Mistree says.
“It’s like a cheap fix, but theologically it’s totally wrong. The body is totally charred, like a victim of burns. It’s terrible.”
Minoo Shroff, chairman of the city’s Parsi Panchayat, the largest community trust, dismisses this. He argues that the blackening effects of exposure on a body are similar.
“Besides, something needs to be done quickly because the panchayat has in the past faced threats of lawsuits from deep-pocketed local residents complaining about the stench.”
“We are not looking at it as scholars,” Shroff says. “We have to look at it from an administration, managerial, hygienic point of view. We have to look at the entire community, not just the Parsis.”
The dakhma had also briefly tried using chemicals, but pall-bearers refused to take part because of the “ankle-deep sludge” left behind, panchayat trustee Dinshaw Tamboly says.
Another proposal, backed by environmentalists and traditionalists alike, was for a huge aviary around the dakhma where vultures could be bred.
Supporters say no more than 75 captive birds would be needed to consume the average three Parsis who die every day in Mumbai, while sceptics suggest that figure is 100 vultures short.
The panchayat says the aviary idea remains on the back-burner, and insists it has little money to support it.
“The community is divided. We don’t have a pope here. We are guided by very many people,” Shroff says.
India’s vulture population has plunged because of diclofenac, a painkiller used on the cattle that the vultures generally feed on, explains Isaac Kehimkar of Bombay Natural History Society.
“The drug has now been banned, but a huge damage has already been done. It is a problem unique to this region because of the sacred status of cows.
“They lead full lives and require medical treatment in their advanced years. So you’ve got a whole load of cattle and therefore many more carcasses than if the cattle had been used for purely commercial farming,” Kehimkar adds.
Having fled Iran centuries ago, there are about 40,000 Parsis in Mumbai, representing more than a quarter of all Zoroastrians.
They have played a formidable part in the history of India’s financial capital and are known for their philanthropy.
“Our last act of charity was with the vulture,” Mistree says. “That’s the tradition that we have grown up to follow, and that tradition has come under threat.”