The Widows of Malabar Hill
Page 38
“I think the danger is the tea-drinkers might join us. And then you’d have a very loud, boisterous group of aunties!” Alice said with a smirk.
Perveen reached into her bag and handed him a business card. “Perhaps you didn’t know, but I’m a solicitor in practice. Will you bring the maître d’hôtel, please?”
Two minutes later the officious-looking Anglo-Indian was frowning at her. “Miss Mistry, what is this hubbub about? We have our rules.”
Smiling at him, she said, “I’ve just a few questions. I’ve heard this magnificent hotel was founded to allow equal hospitality to Indians and foreigners. Is that really true?”
He nodded. “It most certainly is.”
“To allow male guests alcohol—but not the female guests—runs against the idea of equal hospitality, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I—you don’t say, but—” He had no further words.
Five minutes later, Perveen had a frosty gin-lime in front of her, and Alice had her whiskey-soda.
“To the power of women!” Alice toasted.
“The power of women,” Perveen answered as their glasses clinked.
the End
Glossary
Abba: father (Urdu, Arabic)
Agiary: house of worship for Zoroastrians only; also can be referred to as a fire temple
Ahriman: the devil in Zoroastrianism
Ahura Mazda: the creator and sole God of Zoroastrianism
Almirah: cabinet often used for clothes (Urdu, Hindi, and other languages)
Anna: unit of money equal to four paise or one-sixteenth of one rupee (Hindi and other languages)
Arre marere: oh my! (Parsi Gujarati)
Bapawa: grandfather in Parsi Gujarati
Bhabhi: son’s wife (Gujarati, Hindi and Urdu)
Badmash: bad guy (Urdu)
Bhaiya: friendly term of address for a man you don’t know well who is not your social superior (Hindi/Marathi and other languages)
Bibi: respectful honorific for an unmarried woman (Urdu)
Binamazi: Zoroastrian/Parsi term for menstrual period
Chalo: let’s go! (Hindi and other languages)
Chukoo: silly show-off (Parsi Gujarati)
Dagli: white suit worn by Zoroastrian men to the fire temple and for ceremonial occasions
Dal: lentil dish (Hindi and many languages)
Dhabba: roadside café (Hindi and many languages)
Dhansak: stew made with dal, many spices, and meat (Parsi Gujarati)
Dhoti: long, full loincloth (Hindi, Bengali, and other languages)
Durga: Hindu goddess believed to be mother of the universe; a divine representation of female power (Sanskrit, Hindi, and other languages)
Falooda: sweet milk shake often flavored with rose syrup and basil seeds (Urdu)
Fetah: traditional hat worn by Zoroastrian men
Ghelsappa: crazy moron (Parsi Gujarati)
Insha’Allah: if God wills (Urdu)
Jaan: dear (Urdu and Parsi Gujarati)
Khala: aunt (Hindi, Gujarati, Urdu)
Khastegari: in Zoroastrian tradition, a formal meeting between a man and the parents of a woman he’d like to marry
Kid ghosht: lamb-and-rice dish
Kumkum: red cosmetic paste used to adorn the forehead (Hindi and other languages)
Kem cho: hello (Gujarati)
Kurta pajama: male costume of tunic and trousers (Urdu)
Kusti: woven cord of wool worn around the waist as a sign of religious devotion and used in prayer by Parsis who’ve completed their navjote
Lathi: stick used for fighting (Hindi and other languages)
Lungi: short loincloth (Hindi and other languages)
Madrassa: school teaching Islamic education (Urdu)
Masala: mixture of spices (Hindi and other languages)
Meethi papdi: semisweet fried chickpea wafer (Gujarati and other languages)
Mohammedan: English term for a Muslim
Mihrab: special ornamental niche used for worship in a Muslim home or mosque
Mutawalli: the administrator in charge of a wakf or Muslim charitable foundation
Navjote: coming-of-age ceremony for Parsi boys and girls
Nowruz: Celebration of the Spring Equinox in Iran; the Zoroastrian new year
Pandal: an artistic temporary structure set up to honor a Hindu god or goddess
Pagri: a tall, lacquered hat with a tapered top worn by Parsi men for special occasions
Paisa: small coin equal to one sixty-fourth of a rupee (Hindi and other languages)
Parsi: Indian-born Zoroastrian; “a person of Persia”
Rotli: round bread (Parsi Gujarati)
Sali boti: slow-cooked lamb curry topped with crisp strands of potato (Parsi Gujarati)
Salwar kameez: woman’s tunic and trousers traditionally worn by Muslims (Urdu)
Solar topi: pith helmet often worn by light-skinned people to guard against the sun (Hindi and other languages)
Sudreh: thin linen undershirt worn by Parsi men and women after their navjote ceremony
Taro: white bull urine used as an antiseptic in some Zoroastrian rites
Vakil: authorized public pleader to the Indian court (Hindi and other languages)
Vande Mataram: hail to Mother India; freedom cry in India; also the name of a famous poem (Hindi and other languages)
Velgard: vagabond or bum (Persian)
Yazata: angel in Zoroastrianism
Zoroastrian: member of the monotheistic faith Zoroastrianism, which predates Islam and Christianity; Zarathustra, also called Zoroaster, is the religion’s prophet
Acknowledgments
Perveen Mistry was inspired by India’s earliest women lawyers: Cornelia Sorabji of Poona, the first woman to read law at Oxford and the first woman to sit the British law exam in 1892, and Mithan Tata Lam of Bombay, who also read law at Oxford and was the first woman admitted to the Bombay Bar in 1923. Cornelia’s memoirs, India Calling and India Recalled, paint a fascinating picture of what it was like to work as a female solicitor in British India and the princely states. I also enjoyed reading Opening Doors: The Untold Story of Cornelia Sorabji, a biography by her nephew, Richard Sorabji. Mithan Tata Lam shared memories of her education and work in her memoir, Autumn Leaves. Mithan was a key player in drafting legislation for Indian women’s voting rights and also expanding people’s freedom to divorce in the amended Parsi Marriage and Divorce Act of 1936.
One of my most important sources was Law and Identity in Colonial South Asia: Parsi Legal Culture, 1772–1947 by Mitra Sharafi, a legal historian and associate professor at the University of Wisconsin Law School. Dr. Sharafi was astonishingly generous in answering my queries about Perveen’s complicated legal situation. I also learned about common law and a lawyer’s professional responsibilities from Robert Rubinson, professor of law at the University of Baltimore School of Law.
I’m indebted to my stepfather, Bharat Parekh, for encouraging me to explore the heart of old Bombay. Bharat connected me with his close relatives, Chetan, Sonal, Gopika, and Raj Parekh, who made my research trips a real pleasure. I’m always glad for advice from my mother, Karin Parekh, who knows the what, where, and when of everything in Bombay. Thanks to my father, Subir Kumar Banerjee, for his encouragement and reading suggestions, and my stepmother, Manju Parikh, for sharing her vast political science knowledge and introducing me to one of India’s eminent historians, Usha Thakkar, director of the Mani Bhavan Gandhi Museum.
Usha Thakkar brought me into contact with her niece, Neeyati Shethia, an alumna of the Government Law College (formerly the Government Law School) and expert on Malabar Hill. As longtime residents of this special neighborhood, Usha and Neeyati revealed charming old sections of their neighborhood and provided an insider’s tour of The Asiatic Society a
nd Ballard Estate.
A number of erudite Zoroastrians generously shared their magnificent culture with me. Mehernaaz Wadia, a lawyer and contributor to the website Parsikhabar.net, showed me the Bombay High Court, the Ripon Club, and the Cama Institute. I appreciated tips given to me by the historian Simin Patel, whose website, Bombaywalla.org, is a treasure chest of information on Bombay’s heritage. Simin’s father, Jehangir Patel, editor of Parsiana magazine and its website, Parsiana.com, offered insights and some historical book recommendations. Perzen Patel, a chef and food writer with the food-centric Bawibride.com website, fed my hunger for information about Parsi cooking and wedding customs and was also gracious enough to read through the manuscript. A discussion about traditions with Perzen’s mother, Shernaz Petigara, was the icing on the cake.
The screenwriter and director Sooni Taraporevala is well known for her films, but her side project—an anthology of Parsi slang and idioms, Parsi Bol 1&2, co-edited with Meher Marfatia—proved invaluable. Just as precious to me was the time spent with Sooni and her husband, Firdaus.
More Parsi slang and insights came to me from Rayo Noble; I also appreciated quick answers on family naming that came from Leeya Mehta, a Bombay expat living and writing in Washington, DC.
Other Bombayites who aided my research include Nisha Dhage, a public relations officer at the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, an august institution that knows the value of keeping old menus and other institutional history. Hussaina Hatim Matcheswala, a retired professor from the University of Mumbai, gave me a specialized tour of historic Fort through the Mumbai Magic tour group.
Outside of Mumbai, I learned about South Asian Muslim family traditions from Shabnam Mahmood. The mystery novelist A. X. Ahmad connected me with his parents, Naseen and Ameer Ahmad of Calcutta, who offered gracious hospitality and stories of the past.
Both Hussaina Matcheswala and Mehernaaz Wadia brought me in different years to Yazdani Bakery, a traditional Irani bakery in a heritage building that dates to the early twentieth century. In homage to this gem, I’ve given almost the same name to my fictitious bakery on Bruce Street. If you want to try biscuits and tea at the real Yazdani, it’s on Cawasji Patel Road!
More dining adventures and insights into the city came with Avantika Akerkar, the Bombay-born actress and writer. Rajendra B. Aklekar, a writer and authority on India’s railway history, helped me learn the railway lines with his book Halt Station India. He also was kind enough to answer many questions about railway routes and stations in 1920s Bombay.
Anyone might wonder how I managed to meet so many people during my research trips. All was made possible by my steadfast and good-hearted driver Namdev Shinde and the travel agent who matched us, Bhavin Toprani of Travelite in Mumbai.
Big hugs to my indefatigable agent, Vicky Bijur, for bringing my idea for a new series set in 1920s India to the excellent editor Juliet Grames and the rest of the outstanding team at Soho Press. I also owe much to Ambar Chatterjee, my editor at Penguin Random House India, for his thoughtful notes and ongoing support of my historical fiction.
Loads of kisses for the Masseys of Baltimore. My husband, Anthony Massey, was the one who said, “Why not a legal mystery?” Tony endures my absences for work and keeps the home fires burning without complaint. My children, Pia and Neel, have grown in taking on responsibility when I’m away doing research. Yes, I’ve noticed!
If I’ve forgotten to name anyone else who’s helped, please accept my deep apology, and know how grateful I am for your help in bringing this project from daydream to print.