As I write this, the radio is blasting music from the 90’s, my fingers are flowing, my feet are tapping and I am about to get into a robotic jig. My father loves music. The fact that he also loved rock music was just icing on the cake. Even when we were children, we were woken by a song playing on the radio. He believed that the day goes well if we are able to listen to music. We often ended up humming a particular song for the rest of the day. My mother was the opposite. She needed peace and silence in the morning, while she planned her day. She never won that argument – our daily dose of music was essential. However we did lower the volume to respect her wishes.
My day would start with me crooning songs in the bathroom, and singing along, paying no heed to my old neighbors. While commuting, I had to have my ears plugged in to the latest single. Today I sing my son to sleep with the hope that I will pass on this legacy to him. I hope that one day he is passionate about the music, lyrics and the soul of the songs just the way he is currently about his toy cars. My heart jumps with joy when I hear him singing along to a radio jingle or a cartoon theme.
The second thing that I may have inherited from my ancestors would be for my love for food. I am selective about food – I would probably not have things which are healthy. In our family any occasion was celebrated with food – New Years, graduations, promotions… At work also, I binged on things which were absolutely delicious but had no nutrional benefits at all. I have improved on that but it is struggle nonetheless.
It is said that I have certain characteristics of my great grandmother, the most prominent among them being my structure and my anger. During my teen years, I used to be upset most of the time. I have learnt to accept things which are beyond my control and which I cannot change.
The last thing that I have running in my blood is a dash of the wild. My uncles are jovial and my aunts have an impressive, sarcastic sense of humor. Besides the fact that I am a Zoroastrian and we do come in all shapes and sizes, we also have the ability to laugh at ourselves. As a bawa (slang for Zoroastrian descendant), we have an uncanny sense of humor. We can joke about the most serious things and cry when we see someone in distress. We are entrepreneurs who gel with the people like sugar in milk. Some would say but that Zoroastrianism is a belief that you follow and it cannot be in your DNA. Well, if I didn’t have so much freedom of speech and if I were not tradition- bound I would agree with you. But if you ever had a bawa friend you would know how that one person contributes to the cheerfulness of the group.
The physical characteristics that I have acquired could be my pokey nose, my metabolism or simply the color of my skin. But music is in my blood, food is in my DNA and laughter is in my heart. My son is a reflection of me physically now. We will have to wait and watch if he follows me in all other aspects. Oh wait I hear him singing Barney song already… One point to Mommie!!
October 1, 2013.