They had this theory that children being small didn't need much food. The choicest food was given to the men, as they were the bread winners so they needed to eat well. The dastarkhan was laid with all the best dishes. The men were served first while the women and children waited patiently till the men finished eating and the leftovers the women and rest of the family ate. Lucky for us we did not practice this in our house. My mother believed men and women were equal and deserved the same opportunities. She made my brothers do house work as well as the girls which was shocking as men had to be waited hand and foot. Men never went into the kitchen or took care of the children. My father had broken the rules, he did the cooking and took care of the children. Every one made fun of him, but he had an excuse as my mother was disabled due to her arthritis and couldn't do these chores. As children we were given a lot of freedom to do what we want, as long as we stayed within the limits set for us. My brothers were very close to each other. They had a lot of interests. It was always some season. It was the kite flying season when everyone made kites and had the kite strings prepared. It was a long process they had to grind glass peices very fine and make a paste of rice cooked to a paste and then the string had to be covered with it and let it dry before they could use it. All the neighbours boys took part in it. Me and my brother Ismial who was very attached to my brother Joon nused to tag along with them. Then when the strings and kites were ready it was time to fly them. All the children and some grownups who were interested would join them in an open field not far from our house. It was a favourite haunt for us as there was a railway track running a few yards away, everytime a train passed everyone lined on the side to wave to the passengers. They were steam engines smoking and whistling as they passed by. We could see the furnace blazing with fire. Sometimes the guard would come out and wave to us. There was also a small lake where elephants used to come to bathe. It was fun watching them spraying water on each other with their trunks. When kite season was over they used to have quails to teach them to fight each other. They used to have competitions. Which ones had the best fighter quails. You needed a lot of patience my brother Ali Mohammed was a great one with the animals and birds. He had picked up two puppies from the street and brought them home. They were called Bobby and Sheila. We used to have a lot of burglaries in those days, after we got the dogs we felt more safe. We had burglars in the night a few months before we got the dogs. The burglars raided our store room and took away everything. We used to buy things in bulk like rice ghee and other house hold provisions for the whole season. Like I remember there were sacks of various foodstuffs. They were huge heaps of Mangoes which we used to pick as they ripened. Also we had all the laundry which was stored there. One morning when we got up we found our store room cleaned out. It was a shattering for my family how to replace the stuff. I was shattered and cried for days as my saree was gone with the things. I used to love wearing a saree and all the time I used to rap myself in anything which resembled a saree. One of our neighbours who was very fond of children as all her children had grown up. She made me a fitted saree with sequins. I just loved it as soon as I came home I would change my uniform and Wear my saree. It had become an amusing story for the neighbours how I was heartbroken about how they stole my saree. Like I said we had different seasons which were celebrated by the hindu community. Everything turned into a festival. There was a flower festival when jasmine and mogra in abundance. Bangalore was famous for its flowers all the young girls and married women adorned themselves with flowers in their long hair. It took ages to do it. I used to love doing those things. We as Muslims and on top of it being Iranian we considered these practices beneath us. My hair was cut short and we always wore dresses. We didn't want to look like the local people. We kept away from them as much as possible. Even though my parents were very liberal but the rest of the family frowned on us being so close to Indians ,the Hindus didn't like mixing with Muslims either. But the Iranian community was more accepted as they were a little different from the local Muslims. The Hindus had their cast system which was very rigid, you couldn't break into it. Everything they practiced was different from the Muslims. Eventually when India broke up it was no surprise. Even though Muslims had adapted some of the hindu customs in our culture still we were very different. The food we ate also we were meat eaters, the clothes we wore even though we had started wearing sarees, the sarees were different the colours were different and the materials were different.
They mostly wore pure silk sarees. The Muslim women wore mostly embroidered and embellished materials like gotta and sequins. Also the jewellery was different, the Hindus were mostly encouraged to buy heavy gold ornaments and diamonds which was an investment. The Muslims mostly went for pearls and other precious stones. Socially there was not much mingling they kept to themselves and Muslim women were in purdah were hardly seen outside their homes. Every time they went out they had to cover themselves. Even while walking into their transport. Sheets were held on either side so that the women could not be seen while getting into the carriage. Thank God our family didn't practice strict purdah, but covered ourselves with our sarees as much as possible. The Hindus were very into singing and dancing. Every time you passed a hindu house you would hear them practicing on their instruments. It was the harmonium or veena or tabla. Or practicing their dance movements, as most of their Gods danced and that was one way of praying to their gods, by singing the bhajan. I used to envy them so much I would have loved to learn dance and singing. Begum had learnt all their bhajans she used to take part in their festivals and sing for them which was highly appreciated. She had a very good voice and so did all of us. I used to love singing, both my brothers had great voices, my brother Ali Mohammed used to sing urdu songs by Siagal who was a famous singer. My brother Aga joon loved singing western songs he had a booming voice his teacher once suggested that he should be an opera singer.
Bangalore was such a beautiful place. The walk from our house to the school had huge trees on the side of the road. All year round during the changing seasons it was wonderful to walk under the trees. The gulmohar used to turn red and orange in summer. Later on it used to have flat long beens which we used to gather and split the beans open by banging on the stone and eat the beans inside which tasted like peas. Then there were wild fruit which were like beans that looked like jaliby and was called jungli jalabi they had furry pods inside. We were so hungry all the time we used to eat everything edible on sight. Green mangoes tamarind. My father having lost his business had become very insecure with five children and a sick wife to care for. He had taken over the house keeping. He used to cook he was always in the kitchen. As he did not know much cooking we used to have a sort of mishmash of persian and Indian food. The rice was cooked into a soft lump so that it would increase in volume. We used to get a watery curry, we were so hungry all the time that we ate everything edible in sight. There were some fruit trees in the garden which helped. There was a huge gouva tree in the next-door garden half the branches hung on our side. My brothers who were active all the time needed a lot of food. My brother Ali Mohammed was the most naughty of the two brothers. He used to climb up on the wall and pluck all the ripe gouvas on our side of the wall. There was a hindu family living there who we were very friendly with. They had a very pretty teenage daughter with long beautiful hair. She would stand under the tree calling her father. This Muslim boy next door is stealing all our fruit. He just used to say shut up you silly girl and stop making a noise. She had a younger sister who was my age called Sarasvti
She was my friend and I spent a lot of time in their house playing with her, she went to a local school and not to missionary school. But her parents looked on indulgently on all the pranks my brothers played. People were very tolerant of children in those days. I used to get shocked that children would have a criminal record in England if the children did such things. The elders used to punish them, by various means the most common was twisting the ears which was very painful. My brother Ali.M never got on my father he did everything to annoy him. My father being religious wanted to instill religion into the family. The boys rebelled they wouldn't say there prayers or read the Quran when father called them. My elder brother Joon was my fathers favorite he got away with a lot of time, but Ali got the beatings for being dissaobediant. Which made him more rebellious. He adored my mother and hated my father and blamed him for all the poverty and humiliation we had to suffer because of him and also for not supporting the children in their schooling. He wanted the boys to quit the school and take some job. My parents had regular fights over the matter, but my mother wouldn't budge and was adamant that they would go for higher studies. Meanwhile my aunts family came to live with us. My aunt zevar sultan who had brought up my mother and was like her mother, she even called her Bibi, she had lost her husband and was escaping her in laws in Musilpatan wanted her children to get a English schooling. She came to stay with her children who were much older than us and also she and her children were and great support to my mother. My father had to give up his opposition and reluctantly agree. Surprisingly he was very fond of my aunt and her children. I was very close to my aunt and my cousins in fact I was closer to my aunt than my mother, my aunt adored children as she had lost a lot of her children in infancy as it was in those days. For the survival of her remaining children she had made a lot nazars. Her elder son Khaleel had joined a police academy for training the second son was studying for the civil service. The youngest one a daughter was still in school in the final year. Lulu bebe she was responsible for our admissions into school and coaching us at home. Their staying with us was a big support for my mother. I don't know how we managed financially, as my father did all the cooking. My mother and my aunt were great cooks but my father would insist on cooking the food. My father had lost his teeth so insisted on cooking very soft food which everyone used to detest. We used to wait for him to go out, he used to go to the mosque for long prayer sessions or he used to go to the market which was quite a long way. My brother would keep a watch at the end of the road to keep a watch for his return, meanwhile my aunt and everyone helped to light a coal fire and cook something really nice they used to pool together what little money they had to get the ingredients and cooked something delicious. We had to finish eating in a hurry so as to erase all the signs of food cool the fire and put away every thing so as not to arose his suspicion. I and my aunt used to go for long walks together in the morning when she got up for her prayers, she used to make me sit beside her to teach me how to say my prayers. I was only 5 or 6years old. After our prayers I used to hold her hand and go for long walks. We would stop near the fields and gather a lot of different greens, especially after the rains the fields would be full of vegetation. There was chori ki bhaji, which were tender young greens. Then there was kurfa which was delicious cooked with daal or meat. She would cook it without my father objecting. We did have meat every day my father made something watery with it we would all get one small peice of if you were unlucky you would a bone, I remember chewing it for ages. My aunt was as stingy as Baba she would give a measured amount of rice,you couldn't ask for any more, she used to say children don't need more food than this.
Eid mobarak. Wishing you health and prosperity.
Nilofar
Dear Jahan Auntie , how are you keeping ? I hope you are still trying to write a little bit each day . Here it is a chilly summer . All is well .... hope to hear from you soon ! All the best ! 
Hello Nilofar. I am fine. I was just thinking I should start writing soon. I have been a bit preoccupied lately. What with Eid ect. This year one of our Pakistani friend decided to celebrate Eid and call all our friends and neighours. It was nice doing something for a change, as other wise we just sit at home. The Malaysian people are not very friendly they keep to themselves and I don't think they like other people. Any how it doesn't matter as we are here only temporarily. I will start writing what I write is what I saw I have to be objective.
Life in Bangalore was very comfortable, even though we didn't have much money we lived in a very nice neighbourhood. All our neighbours were Hindus my mother insisted on not living in a place where there were Muslims. She had very bad experience living with the Iranian community. Mostly they were very gossipy and ignorant and money minded. Also living in a hindu locality gave us freedom to move around with out restrictions of being in purdah. By now we had discarded covering ourselves when we went out. Our hindu neighbours had become our family. They took very good care of us. They respected my father as a good honest man. We had this family living opposite us who were high class bramins. They are considered the upper class among the hindu religion usually they don't mix with the Muslims. He was retired police officer so everyone respected him and we're afraid of him. He and his wife did not have children so they adopted us and made a fuss over us. She was called Rudhama and the husband we just called him bumman short for brahmin behind his back. He was a liberal and not religious so we got on very well with them. They lived in a huge house with a very big garden with coconut and fruit trees. I spent most of my time there wandering around the garden and sitting outside their kitchen door as Muslims we were not allowed into the kitchen. As my mother was bedridden it was safe for us to be with Rudhama. They were especially fond of my sister and took a great interest in what she was studying, she had gone to college by then she lived in the hostel and came home during holidays. The day she returned they were so excited to see her. There was always something special prepared for her home coming. It seemed as if their grandchild was returning. Especially Bumman he showed her off to his friends what an intelligent and talented girl she was, he called her begu affectionately. We took part in all their festivals, there was always something going on. Their was dasera a festival when they had all their houses decorated. Then they had when they depicted their stories of their gods the ramayana. They used to put up a big stage at one end of the road and during the festival they had actors who dressed up as their gods and told the stories of their lives. After dinner all the neighbourhood came out to watch the dramas. It was great for my mother she eagerly awaited the festival as she could come and sit on the steps outside our house and watch the performance. There was always a lot of food distributed amoung the audience. There were a lot of wonderful snacks which we munched while we watched the dramas. We went to missionary schools our school was a long way from home I and my younger brother walked all the way. We loved to go to school.
My battery is down i will continue tomorrow.
Bangalore was such a beautiful place. The walk from our house to the school had huge trees on the side of the road. All year round during the changing seasons it was wonderful to walk under the trees. The gulmohar used to turn red and orange in summer. Later on it used to have flat long beens which we used to gather and split the beans open by banging on the stone and eat the beans inside which tasted like peas. Then there were wild fruit which were like beans that looked like jaliby and was called jungli jalabi they had furry pods inside. We were so hungry all the time we used to eat everything edible on sight. Green mangoes tamarind. My father having lost his business had become very insecure with five children and a sick wife to care for. He had taken over the house keeping. He used to cook he was always in the kitchen. As he did not know much cooking we used to have a sort of mishmash of persian and Indian food. The rice was cooked into a soft lump so that it would increase in volume. We used to get a watery curry, we were so hungry all the time that we ate everything edible in sight. There were some fruit trees in the garden which helped. There was a huge gouva tree in the next-door garden half the branches hung on our side. My brothers who were active all the time needed a lot of food. My brother Ali Mohammed was the most naughty of the two brothers. He used to climb up on the wall and pluck all the ripe gouvas on our side of the wall. There was a hindu family living there who we were very friendly with. They had a very pretty teenage daughter with long beautiful hair. She would stand under the tree calling her father. This Muslim boy next door is stealing all our fruit. He just used to say shut up you silly girl and stop making a noise. She had a younger sister who was my age called Sarasvti
She was my friend and I spent a lot of time in their house playing with her, she went to a local school and not to missionary school. But her parents looked on indulgently on all the pranks my brothers played. People were very tolerant of children in those days. I used to get shocked that children would have a criminal record in England if the children did such things. The elders used to punish them, by various means the most common was twisting the ears which was very painful. My brother Ali.M never got on my father he did everything to annoy him. My father being religious wanted to instill religion into the family. The boys rebelled they wouldn't say there prayers or read the Quran when father called them. My elder brother Joon was my fathers favorite he got away with a lot of time, but Ali got the beatings for being dissaobediant. Which made him more rebellious. He adored my mother and hated my father and blamed him for all the poverty and humiliation we had to suffer because of him and also for not supporting the children in their schooling. He wanted the boys to quit the school and take some job. My parents had regular fights over the matter, but my mother wouldn't budge and was adamant that they would go for higher studies. Meanwhile my aunts family came to live with us. My aunt zevar sultan who had brought up my mother and was like her mother, she even called her Bibi, she had lost her husband and was escaping her in laws in Musilpatan wanted her children to get a English schooling. She came to stay with her children who were much older than us and also she and her children were and great support to my mother. My father had to give up his opposition and reluctantly agree. Surprisingly he was very fond of my aunt and her children. I was very close to my aunt and my cousins in fact I was closer to my aunt than my mother, my aunt adored children as she had lost a lot of her children in infancy as it was in those days. For the survival of her remaining children she had made a lot nazars. Her elder son Khaleel had joined a police academy for training the second son was studying for the civil service. The youngest one a daughter was still in school in the final year. Lulu bebe she was responsible for our admissions into school and coaching us at home. Their staying with us was a big support for my mother. I don't know how we managed financially, as my father did all the cooking. My mother and my aunt were great cooks but my father would insist on cooking the food. My father had lost his teeth so insisted on cooking very soft food which everyone used to detest. We used to wait for him to go out, he used to go to the mosque for long prayer sessions or he used to go to the market which was quite a long way. My brother would keep a watch at the end of the road to keep a watch for his return, meanwhile my aunt and everyone helped to light a coal fire and cook something really nice they used to pool together what little money they had to get the ingredients and cooked something delicious. We had to finish eating in a hurry so as to erase all the signs of food cool the fire and put away every thing so as not to arose his suspicion. I and my aunt used to go for long walks together in the morning when she got up for her prayers, she used to make me sit beside her to teach me how to say my prayers. I was only 5 or 6years old. After our prayers I used to hold her hand and go for long walks. We would stop near the fields and gather a lot of different greens, especially after the rains the fields would be full of vegetation. There was chori ki bhaji, which were tender young greens. Then there was kurfa which was delicious cooked with daal or meat. She would cook it without my father objecting. We did have meat every day my father made something watery with it we would all get one small peice of if you were unlucky you would a bone, I remember chewing it for ages. My aunt was as stingy as Baba she would give a measured amount of rice,you couldn't ask for any more, she used to say children don't need more food than this.
Nilofar
thank you for persevering to write .... it is getting very hot here and i can hardly do a thing . It is hard to live without a bathroom . Where i am staying is in a tiny appartment on the six floor , such appartments used to belong to the servants and the bathrooms were always on the stair way .... you probably know about this sort of theing but i think in the UK they had bathrooms even for the maids . God willing i am trying to complete the new book .... the one you read about mohenjodaro . I just hope it comes out right . It includes a paragraph of my mothers writing .... she repoted her giving birth to me in the russian hospital which was next to the place we were staying. I think it was very sweet of her to write how she went through her pregnancy etc and giving birth . I think it is very corageous to try having other children once the first one has issues and they certainly took a risk by having me . You know the Mr Namazie with blue eyes who had three retarded children .... but his first daughter was perfectly OK .... My mother wanted taher to mary their daughter ! Any way The book i published in the UK had not been edited at all and i paid for it too ! It requires inspection and attention plus a miracle to get things done properly these days . I wish i had help in getting these things done! well keep up the good work .... personal experiences are very interesting !
They had this theory that children being small didn't need much food. The choicest food was given to the men, as they were the bread winners so they needed to eat well. The dastarkhan was laid with all the best dishes. The men were served first while the women and children waited patiently till the men finished eating and the leftovers the women and rest of the family ate. Lucky for us we did not practice this in our house. My mother believed men and women were equal and deserved the same opportunities. She made my brothers do house work as well as the girls which was shocking as men had to be waited hand and foot. Men never went into the kitchen or took care of the children. My father had broken the rules, he did the cooking and took care of the children. Every one made fun of him, but he had an excuse as my mother was disabled due to her arthritis and couldn't do these chores. As children we were given a lot of freedom to do what we want, as long as we stayed within the limits set for us. My brothers were very close to each other. They had a lot of interests. It was always some season. It was the kite flying season when everyone made kites and had the kite strings prepared. It was a long process they had to grind glass peices very fine and make a paste of rice cooked to a paste and then the string had to be covered with it and let it dry before they could use it. All the neighbours boys took part in it. Me and my brother Ismial who was very attached to my brother Joon nused to tag along with them. Then when the strings and kites were ready it was time to fly them. All the children and some grownups who were interested would join them in an open field not far from our house. It was a favourite haunt for us as there was a railway track running a few yards away, everytime a train passed everyone lined on the side to wave to the passengers. They were steam engines smoking and whistling as they passed by. We could see the furnace blazing with fire. Sometimes the guard would come out and wave to us. There was also a small lake where elephants used to come to bathe. It was fun watching them spraying water on each other with their trunks. When kite season was over they used to have quails to teach them to fight each other. They used to have competitions. Which ones had the best fighter quails. You needed a lot of patience my brother Ali Mohammed was a great one with the animals and birds. He had picked up two puppies from the street and brought them home. They were called Bobby and Sheila. We used to have a lot of burglaries in those days, after we got the dogs we felt more safe. We had burglars in the night a few months before we got the dogs. The burglars raided our store room and took away everything. We used to buy things in bulk like rice ghee and other house hold provisions for the whole season. Like I remember there were sacks of various foodstuffs. They were huge heaps of Mangoes which we used to pick as they ripened. Also we had all the laundry which was stored there. One morning when we got up we found our store room cleaned out. It was a shattering for my family how to replace the stuff. I was shattered and cried for days as my saree was gone with the things. I used to love wearing a saree and all the time I used to rap myself in anything which resembled a saree. One of our neighbours who was very fond of children as all her children had grown up. She made me a fitted saree with sequins. I just loved it as soon as I came home I would change my uniform and Wear my saree. It had become an amusing story for the neighbours how I was heartbroken about how they stole my saree. Like I said we had different seasons which were celebrated by the hindu community. Everything turned into a festival. There was a flower festival when jasmine and mogra in abundance. Bangalore was famous for its flowers all the young girls and married women adorned themselves with flowers in their long hair. It took ages to do it. I used to love doing those things. We as Muslims and on top of it being Iranian we considered these practices beneath us. My hair was cut short and we always wore dresses. We didn't want to look like the local people. We kept away from them as much as possible. Even though my parents were very liberal but the rest of the family frowned on us being so close to Indians ,the Hindus didn't like mixing with Muslims either. But the Iranian community was more accepted as they were a little different from the local Muslims. The Hindus had their cast system which was very rigid, you couldn't break into it. Everything they practiced was different from the Muslims. Eventually when India broke up it was no surprise. Even though Muslims had adapted some of the hindu customs in our culture still we were very different. The food we ate also we were meat eaters, the clothes we wore even though we had started wearing sarees, the sarees were different the colours were different and the materials were different.
They mostly wore pure silk sarees. The Muslim women wore mostly embroidered and embellished materials like gotta and sequins. Also the jewellery was different, the Hindus were mostly encouraged to buy heavy gold ornaments and diamonds which was an investment. The Muslims mostly went for pearls and other precious stones. Socially there was not much mingling they kept to themselves and Muslim women were in purdah were hardly seen outside their homes. Every time they went out they had to cover themselves. Even while walking into their transport. Sheets were held on either side so that the women could not be seen while getting into the carriage. Thank God our family didn't practice strict purdah, but covered ourselves with our sarees as much as possible. The Hindus were very into singing and dancing. Every time you passed a hindu house you would hear them practicing on their instruments. It was the harmonium or veena or tabla. Or practicing their dance movements, as most of their Gods danced and that was one way of praying to their gods, by singing the bhajan. I used to envy them so much I would have loved to learn dance and singing. Begum had learnt all their bhajans she used to take part in their festivals and sing for them which was highly appreciated. She had a very good voice and so did all of us. I used to love singing, both my brothers had great voices, my brother Ali Mohammed used to sing urdu songs by Siagal who was a famous singer. My brother Aga joon loved singing western songs he had a booming voice his teacher once suggested that he should be an opera singer.
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Monday 2:59am
Nilofar
Dear aunty J. Thanks so much ... ... i really enjoy these pictures of your childhood in India .... i can see it as in a film ...; you know the film directer Gurinder Chadrah ? i can see your images like in her films .... On Monday i was in all day Painting and didnt't venture out at all because it was very hot .... I dont have a PC you know and no phone either .... which makes things very hard for me .... every time i buy one and try to use it i get harassed by the troops of black and bangladeshis and Rumenians .... they are experts at stealing electronic gadgets .... it is sad that they make people hate them by doing such things . Just some weeks ago i had bought a tablet by a Bangla shop and they had fiddled with it and currupt to the bone that they are .... they usually try to do as much negative stuff as they can .... i got a rough ride and i didnt pursue the thing ....... Bangla people here are very competitive and inhuman in their attitude .... i have observed it in several shops . So you see it is God's will that i am without a phone . They dont help a woman they are out to get their own interest .... even to use the skype i couldnt get them to help me .... but a french friend helped me with a call to china .... i was calling for a job there but they said i was too old .... at least i got to talk to the man . He said they didnt give visas for people older than a certain age ! I am wondering what will become of me .... in this "brand new world"!
Nilofar
hello jahan auntie ! hope you are doing well .... i saw your comment on the publication of the book in french .... i will try sending you a copy when it comes out {with translation in english } i am trying to translate it in good english ,,,, you see i had a french friend who helped me translate it into french because i paid her a little bit each time and it was convenient for her to do it :::: it is always easier when you have to go and sit with some one and do the work together . God willing it will be in some months ..... lots of corrections .... i had wanted to put pictures in it but they only do texts .... any way i am waiting to hear more from your stories .... all the best and have a nice day
the best and have a nice day
I saw the photos I didn't know you had them. I threw away most of mine as I know no one will have any interest in them. Most summer months hoards of our relatives from Hyderabad used to descend on us. My other aunt Gohar sultans family used to come and stay with us, as they wanted to get away from the heat of Hyderabad. Bangalore had pleasant weather. The problem was they were also hard up and didn't have any money. I don't know how my father used to manage. My aunt who we used to call khalama was very different from my mother and my aunt khalajan. She was a very self-centered woman, she was a widow with 4 daughters and three sons. She did not believe in educating her children, she was married to a local zamindar that is landowner. She had adapted to that life with a lot of servants and pampered life. She got her elder daughter Maryam begum at the age of 13 or 14. Maryam after having one son lost her husband he died very young. She was only 18 when she became a widow, all her money was controlled by her husbands brother who was married to her other sister. Her sister and her husband were really very backward in their thinking, they lived in Musilpatan which was a small fishing village. To them Bangalore was way to modern and corrupt a place to be avoided. Thank God they never came and stayed with us. Poor Maryam begum she was young and vivacious she was never allowed to wear anything but white and couldn't adorn herself. She was very fond of my mother, because my mother was very liberal and she was free in our house to live as she wanted. But the other children of my aunt bullied us, we were afraid of them if we complained to our parents they always told us they were our guests and it was our duty to look after them. They did not have much education, unlike my mother and aunt who had struggled to send us to good schools, my aunt Gohar sultan had never bothered with her children. They did not have good habits they were very jealous of our family. They hated Begum because she was admired by everyone. They would always make fun of her and my brother Joon. Both my brothers disliked them and were very angry with our parents for allowing them to stay with us for months, but there was no way to stop them from coming. They especially made a lot of fun of Aga joon they thought he was uncouth and not very refined. They did not have the capacity to understand that he was brilliant and hardworking, because all they did was laze around. I was very happy to have my aunt around as she told us very interesting stories. I would stick to the three sisters when they would be chatting learned a lot about the community. My aunt Gohar was a very arrogant woman and didn't pander to people like my other aunt who loved to be with well of cousins. She was very close to a cousin of hers Bebe Tala she used to spend a lot of time with her, she would always take me with her. They used to play a game called pacheezi it was something like ludo. They played with shells. Bebe Tala was a widow with 8 daughters she was quite wealthy and had married off all her daughters in good Iranian families. She had only one youngest daughter left who was a great friend of Lulu bebe so we spent a lot of time with them. I always accompanied them when they visited her. She was very charming with a lot of Irani tarouf. I loved going there as they had a lovely house and they always had Irani food on a beautiful laid sofra. All her married daughters who were living in Bangalore came over in the evening and had dinner with her she always spoke farsi. She was quite ugly but had very charming manners. The daughters came all dressed with full make up. It was the custom in Bangalore to dress up in the evenings and go for long walks. The food was always delicious there was shami and abgoosht. With bread or there was korma sabzi with rice and tomato and meat curry, it was all very jovial and civilised she was very kind to me as a child. But Bangalore of the Iranian community was horrible and full of intrigue and gossip. They hated her and maligned her no end. From what I heard when they were talking and calling her names. My aunt would always defend her so she was also maligned for keeping being her friend. The fuid started with Haji Amus wife. Haji Amu who was my mother s cousin he was Haji Reza shustry he was a very wealthy businessman. He used to trade with Japan he was married to a wealthy Irani woman I am not sure if she was from the Namazie family. They lived a very lavish life. They were very fashionable and from the gossip she was very arrogant. My uncles familys. professor Shustrys family spent a lot of their holidays with them they were very well looked after. My cousin Shabaji always talked about them, she was very impressed with their lifestyle. But the problem started when Haji Amu started visiting Bebe Tala, she was a widow and had a lot of property they say he started to help her with her property matters. His wife and children took great offence.
They started rumours that Bebe Tala was having an affair and caught on like wild fire. Haji Amus wife was very arrogant from what I heard. She had always treated her husband very badly and had looked down on him. When everyone started gossiping about her husband having an affair, she went overboard and it became very difficult for Haji Amu to live with her, as they never got on well he decided to move out and openly be friendly with Bebe Tala. This inflamed his family more so there were warring camps. Whoever was friends with Bebe Tala were forbidden to enter their house. Khalajan my aunt zevar sultan came to be their arch enemy. They thought that Haji Amu being her cousin she had been the go-between. My aunt being a very religious and rigid in her morals wouldn't even dream of doing things like that. The women in my family were very puranticle would rather die than think of having affairs or encouraging such things. It was wise that my mother kept away from these people. But my aunt was so simple it didn't even bother what they said about her she continued being friends with bebe Tala and her family and as we were renting one of Haji Amus house we were very close to him. He was a very stingy man knowing how hard up we were we never got any concessions from him, neither did we want any. Now they were these warring camps but mostly it was Haji Amus family who were on the war path. Bebe Tala carried on in their normal life, she was as charming and gracious as always. The rest to continue.
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