We were Parsis, a small, prosperous, and educated religious minority in India the joke was that there were so few of us, nobody saw us as any kind of threat. I immediately worried about my family’s well-being, but he brushed aside my fretting. But I can still hear the bewilderment in my father’s voice as he later recounted the incident during our weekly phone chat. It had been set on fire by a mob of angry Hindus who had heard that a Muslim family lived on the ground floor.īy this time, I was living in faraway America, safe from the paroxysm of insanity and violence that gripped Bombay-the erstwhile most tolerant and cosmopolitan of Indian cities-during that terrible period. In 1993, my middle-aged father stood on our balcony and watched helplessly as the apartment building across the street burned.
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