Parsi ...

I was talking to some people the other day when the subject of Freddie Mercury's ethnicity came up. Was he a Farsi? Parsi. That's like Iranian, right? Well, sort of, it is someone of Persian descent whose more recent ancestors have lived in India.

Same thing, right? No.

They thought I was just being difficult, or, perhaps, a little bit of a know it all, because I am a huge Queen fan (and yes, I am a huge Queen fan.). I am something else, too, though, and that is a Parsi (don't ask me how it came to be that Queen was my favorite band, it has nothing to do with Freddie's being a Parsi! That was just one of those bizarre coincidences.).

I don't really care that they called him a Farsi, and I didn't press the issue. I didn't even tell them that I am a Parsi. I don't get offended when other people talk about my religion or whatever. This is purely for the intellectual interest of anyone finds it, well, interesting ...

Whenever someone asks me where my name is from, I say it is either Parsi or Indian. If they ask me "what I am," I usually say Indian, for simplicity's sake. I never, ever say Iranian, or Persian. Ethnically, it is true, I am much closer to being Iranian than anything else (well, on my Dad's side, on my mom's side, it's Europeans who have been in America since the 1600s), and, so, on forms, I put down "caucasian" as my ethnicity, because Parsis are caucasian, ethnically. Enough on that. Culturally, however, I consider myself much, much more Indian. It is not just because we eat Indian food, speak Indian languages, wear Indian clothes, etcetera, all with variations, naturally. It is also, for me, the fact that, well, Iran kicked us out and India took us in!

Here's the story as it was told to me, and probably countless other Parsis.

When the Muslims invaded Persia, they gave the existing inhabitants three choices. They could convert, they could leave, or they could die. The Parsis were the people who chose to leave. Not all of the people who chose to leave made it. Some landed in hostile countries and were killed off, or died on the journey, etcetera. Supposedly, some went to China, and were killed off. Anyway, a group of them landed in Gujarat, on the western coast of India, and they were greeted with hostility and suspicion. The king came and was going to make them leave, saying that they could not be
trusted not to take over, etcetera, and one of the priests made his plea. He asked that a bowl full of milk be brought, and it was. He brought some sugar, and put it in the milk, and said, "See, the sugar didn't make the milk overflow, but if you taste it, it is now sweeter. That is what we will do for you. We will not cause a disruption. There are not many of us. We will not convert other people, or try to take over in any
way. We just ask the right to live here and practice as we wish, and, in return, we will contribute to the country and make it better for everyone." The king said ok, and we've been living in India ever since.

The thing is, we did move there, and we did integrate, and we have been successful in India. We are an ethnic group in India with roots in Persia, rather than a group of Persians who has been living in India all this time.