Even if one lives for a hundred years in this world, he has ultimately to cross the judgement bridge. Think about it. At that time your friends and family will not accompany you; rather they will separate from you. Whatever gains you have acquired through wisdom and good deeds, that alone will stand by you.

Dastur Aderbad's advice to his son, Pand Nameh, 4AD


ince ancient times, Zoroastrians have disposed of their dead by leaving the corpses in the open air, to be devoured by carnivorous birds and beasts. The Towers of Silence (Doongerwadi) have existed in Bombay since 1673. In modern Bombay there can be no beasts, but the vultures remain, ready to swoop down at the appointed times for their daily meals.

          One sixty-four year old lady has fond memories of the place. In a letter to Parsiana magazine she writes,

My grandfather used to take me for walks inside the vast grounds of tangled vegetation where snakes often crossed our path and drops of dew sparkled where the sun touched them on a cobweb. And there was quiet all around. He taught me to sit quietly, listening to the sounds of the wilderness, watch the magnificent peacocks dance to attract the drab brown hens. He taught me to recognise many other birds that frequented the place because of its isolation.

Doongerwadi is still wooded and peaceful, abounding in birds of all kinds, but much has sprung up around it, making it one of the anachronisms of Bombay. What was once a "rocky, woody, uninhabited mountain" has become Malabar Hill, home to Bombay's elite.

          The development of Malabar Hill did not affect the Parsis until the seventies, when a block of skyscrapers were built on land adjoining Doongerwadi. The residents of Grand Paradi Apartments could look into the towers where the bodies were placed for disposal. Grand Paradi also served as a vantage point for those wishing to photograph the forbidden. After two such instances the Parsi Panchayat closed off the towers within direct range of the telephoto lens.

          Since this unique, primitive custom is usually regarded as macabre and horrifying by non-Parsis, we grow up having to defend and explain our rites. "We worship the natural elements," we say. "To bury would be to pollute the earth, to burn would be to pollute fire. As Zoroastrians we give our bodies to the vultures as our last act of charity on earth." Amongst ourselves we have a sense of humour about this also. Fat Eric Uncle jokes about how the vultures won't be able to fly after they are through with him, tells us about the old lady who wished to be buried because she was scared it would hurt her too much to be pecked at by birds.

          I was thirteen when a grandaunt died and I was considered old enough to participate in the rites of mourning. Since then I have walked that same path many times. Far from being macabre, each time I experience the beauty of the rituals and the serenity of the surroundings, I feel a profound sense of peace that mitigates the hurt of loss.

          Zoroastrians believe that when a person dies, their soul hovers around the earth for three days before it goes to its final reckoning on the Bridge of Judgement, the Chinvat Bridge.

          In Zarathushtra's own words:
Both parties, True and False, are put to test,
O Mazda, by Thy blazing fire divine;
This fiery test lays bare their inner souls,
As Thy reward to each one indicates:
Complete frustration shall the False One find,
Thy blessings full the Truthful One shall reap.1
The False One puts before his inner self
A crooked picture of the straight path;
But on the Judgement Bridge his soul shall tax
him with this teaching false, this picture warped.
Through his own actions and his tongue untrue
He goes astray, slipping from the Path of Truth.2
The Wise who follow the Soul-Healing Lord,
Light eternal, shall be their abode;
But False Ones shall for ages long reside
In light obscure, uttering words of woe;
To such lives, empty of hope are they condemned.
By their own selves, through their own wicked deeds.3

Here on earth, we pray constantly for the suspended soul as it approaches the Chinvat Bridge. On the fourth day when the good soul has made the crossing successfully, and is freed of all earthly ties, the most beautiful prayers of farewell and benediction are recited in the stillness of dawn.....