I am a Parsi. My ancestors were Zoroastrians who came to India from Persia around the mid seventh century. Like the English Pilgrims who came to America on the Mayflower in 1620, at the risk of life and limb, to assure themselves religious freedom, so did my ancestors sail the stormy seas to escape religious conversion by the sword. Only they did it nearly a thousand years before the Pilgrims!

When Mama told us stories, or sang to us, I usually sat closest to her right side, often resting my head on her knee. As the story progressed, from time to time she stroked my hair, a soothing practice she shared with all her seven children. The story she was about to tell us, of the two champions, Sorab and Rustom, was the saddest story we were ever told.