Parsis of Delhi are Protecting Their Heritage While Adapting to Modern Life

In the heart of Delhi’s busy Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg, a quiet building stands as a custodian of over a century of history. The Delhi Parsi Anjuman, with its single fire temple, community hall, dharamshala, and cemetery, is more than an institution. It is a lifeline for one of the capital’s smallest and most tight-knit communities. Once a thriving group of traders, professionals, and artisans, Delhi’s Parsis are now fewer than 500 in number, scattered across the city, Gurgaon, and Noida. Yet, their cultural flame, both literal and symbolic, burns on.

This is the story of Delhi’s Parsis: their journey to the capital, how they adapt in the present day, and the ways in which their businesses and enterprises have become touchstones for cultural preservation.

A Century in the Capital

Delhi’s Parsis trace their roots in the city back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries. While the community’s larger hubs were in Bombay, Navsari, and Surat, small numbers of Zoroastrians moved north during the British Raj, drawn by opportunities in the armed forces, the colonial bureaucracy, and in emerging industries like railways and printing.

In 1911, when the capital of British India shifted from Calcutta to Delhi, the city began attracting a more diverse professional class. Among them were Parsi doctors, engineers, and traders who saw scope for establishing a northern base. At the time, without the concentrated baugs found in Bombay, Delhi’s Parsis lived in scattered pockets, meeting mainly through social gatherings or religious ceremonies.

The need for a formal institution became clear, and in 1925 the Delhi Parsi Anjuman was founded. It provided not only a place of worship in the form of the capital’s sole fire temple, but also a dharamshala for travellers, a hall for gatherings, and eventually, a cemetery. This year, the Anjuman celebrates its centenary—an occasion that current president Adil Nargolwala regards with a mix of pride and concern. “The Anjuman is 100 years old,” he reflects, “and there's a lot of history behind it. Unfortunately, because the Parsi community is reducing in size, even in Delhi, we are dwindling in our numbers.”

Unlike their counterparts in Bombay or Gujarat, Delhi’s Parsis never lived in a concentrated colony. “We are about 500 odd Parsis in Delhi situated and living across the city of Delhi, Gurgaon and Noida,” says Nargolwala. This dispersion has fostered a more outward-facing and inclusive culture. “We are a very liberal community. For the last nearly 50 years now, we allow our non-Parsi spouses to be members of our Parsi Anjuman, which is not the case in many other Parsi communities in the rest of the country.”

Surviving and Staying Relevant

Maintaining traditions in a geographically scattered community requires planning, patience, and flexibility. The Anjuman remains the central node, hosting major religious and cultural festivals such as Navroze and Pateti, as well as community feasts. “We meet regularly in our Anjuman about four or five times a year for various social functions,” says Nargolwala. “People congregate, greet each other, share stories, and basically enjoy.”

However, the realities of modern life have reshaped attendance. Long commutes and unpredictable traffic mean fewer impromptu visits to the fire temple. “If you have to come from Gurgaon to our fire temple on a weekday, it can take you something like one and a half, two hours each way,” Nargolwala notes. As a result, events are now strategically scheduled, often on Sunday afternoons, to make it easier for members from satellite cities to attend.

For Hoofrish Krishna Murthy who runs Gifts of Love, a gifting shop, with her husband Chetan Krishna Murthy, the shift is familiar. Born and raised in Delhi, she remembers when going to the Anjuman was a childhood treat. “That was entertainment, that was a sense of community,” she says. Now, while the spirit remains, the logistics have changed. Even so, she sees food and humour as strong connectors: “Food is a big, big connect, and the spirit of identity is there.”

Her own marriage, to a husband of mixed Parsi and South Indian heritage, mirrors the community’s openness. “Delhi is a very open community, interfaith marriages are welcome,” she says. This inclusivity has kept traditions alive, even as forms evolve. Children as young as four or five attend Farohar classes at the Anjuman, learning history and customs through stories and songs, planting seeds of cultural pride early on.

Businesses as Cultural Anchors

For a community without a central residential hub, businesses have long served as places where heritage and commerce intersect.

In fashion, Ashdeen Lilaowala has made Delhi a centre for the revival of gara embroidery, a textile tradition that travelled from China to India via the Parsi maritime trade routes. “Still a child when I encountered the resplendent Parsi Garas covered in intricate hand embroidery, I watched and learned as the women in my family treasured them,” he recalls. Years of research have taken him from Persia to China, collecting not only garments but also the stories behind them. “Motifs from the Parsi Gara tradition come alive on cloth each time our karigars hand-embroider them onto our sarees. We’re constantly telling stories and keeping them alive through our hand-crafted textile tradition.”

Ashdeen’s flagship store in Delhi doubles as a cultural hub. “Every year we celebrate Parsi festivals like Navroze and engage with our larger community of friends, customers, and journalists to keep these traditions thriving.” His work has reached global platforms—Oprah Winfrey, Priyanka Chopra, and Natasha Poonawalla have all worn his pieces—turning the gara into a contemporary cultural ambassador.

For Hoofrish, Gifts of Love carries Parsi values in its ethos. “Any business would be based on ethics and values,” she says. A notebook embossed with the farohar—the Zoroastrian guardian angel—became one of their best-selling products, purchased by Parsis and non-Parsis alike. Her store has also hosted book launches and community events, blending retail with cultural connection.

Food is another anchor. Bagli’s Kitchen, run by Binaifer Bagli from within the Anjuman, caters Parsi staples for community functions. “They have very good Parsi food. In fact, they are catering for our New Year function on the 15th of August,” says Nargolwala.

Culinary Traditions and Memory

Few traditions are as embedded in Parsi identity as food. Shelly Subawalla, founder of Zarin’s Secrets, a food and spice business, sees it as a living link to the past. “It is of great import to me as I've realised that as we evolve, a lot of our traditions are dying out. Youngsters just don't have the time or inclination to learn about our traditions, our history. Preserving our culture and traditions for the next generation becomes all the more important.”

Navroze, the Parsi New Year, is a highlight. “We, the Delhi Parsis, meet at our temple and have a feast,” she says. The menu—sagan nu bhonu—includes kohra nu murrabo (white pumpkin sweet chutney), gajar meva nu achaar (carrot and dry fruit pickle), daar ni pori (lentil sweet pie), pulao daar (Parsi biryani), and ravo (semolina-based sweet). “This is what has been coming down for generations, hence we do it—hence traditions.”

Even without a dedicated Parsi restaurant in Delhi—Rustam’s, once housed at the Anjuman, has closed—home kitchens keep recipes alive. “Most Parsi ladies, not only Parsi ladies but non-Parsi ladies who married Parsis, are pretty good at making Parsi food,” says Nargolwala. “Over the years, they've understood the cuisine, the spices, the masalas, the cooking recipes.”

Keeping the Flame Alive

As Delhi’s Parsis mark a century of the Anjuman, they stand at a crossroads. Demographic decline is a reality, but so is resilience. The sacred fire still burns in their sole temple, and the metaphorical flame, expressed in crafts, ethics, humour, and cuisine, remains bright.

For Ashdeen, the role is clear: “These individuals are not only keeping the flame of Parsi culture burning but are also successfully passing the baton on to the younger generation.”

From a hand-embroidered sari to a carefully prepared pulao daar, from a Farohar-embossed notebook to a Sunday gathering in the Anjuman hall, each gesture is an act of cultural preservation. In a city where their numbers may be counted in hundreds, the Parsis of Delhi continue to prove that tradition need not be loud to endure, it just needs to be kept alive, one flame at a time.