REPLY ADDRESS BY MR. DINSHAW B AVARI ON THE OCCASION TO COMMEMORATE HIS 85th BIRTHDAY on NOV 5, 1987-
“As Mr Wyseman used to only show a profit of Rs.18,000/- per year, I showed Rs 19,000/- by cooking the accounts and got them passed *. Next year I again made a net profit of well over Rs 1 Lac because this was the only hotel not out of bounds for American Soldiers.
(*more on this later)
In order to reduce the Souvenirs being taken away, all my Crockery and Ashtrays, which were imported, had the words ‘Stolen from Bristol Hotel’ on them. This made all the soldiers buy these items by paying fat sums to me and I put a board so that other Souvenirs would not be taken from the Dining Room. This big board read ‘KNIVES AND FORKS ARE NOT LIKE MEDICINE TO BE TAKEN AFTER MEALS’.
Deciding to build my own hotel, I went to Mr Bushby, Chairman of the Port Trust for a plot of land on the seashore. He asked me how much whiskey I could sell. I told him I could give him a case of Whiskey and sent him Black Label. He gave me this whole plot where we are today.
At the Governor’s House, my wife Khorshed heard my friends speaking to each other that ‘Avari is a damn fool – building a hotel where even the dogs will not stay’. She was most upset and did not eat or drink anything at the party and came home and cried to me that all your dear friends say you are making a mistake and why won’t you stop throwing all your life savings away.
This property, which I have got on 100 years lease, will be useful to my son Byram and to my Grandsons and we will never give it away.”
COVID-19 struck and we did not lay off our staff or executives. We did this openly, with our hearts in it, and fully mindful of the economic impact to our family & group.
Our reasoning … where will these people go, how will they live, eat, buy medicines – especially our Associates – as there’s no social network or institutionalized setup to support them. It was (and is) our responsibility to look after them and their family.
We didn’t do this expecting anything in return – because that’s not what “helping” is about.
Trust & a helping hand is given implicitly – one should not do charity expecting anything in return.
Little did we know, there always are the bad eggs … the back stabbers … those few people who would take advantage of this good will ☹ … and “stab the hand that feeds him”!
After several months of this closed period, we decided to call back team members in batches from their homes & villages so as to continue – if nothing else – training programs so that people remain more productive.
What excuses did we get when we started …
Some pretend to be ill and don’t submitting any medical proof so as to skip training;
For some, they or their “dependant” were ill – for the last 2 months! – and so could not attend the job;
Some responded that they are out of the respective city or in another province and due to Covid they can’t get transport … (hmmm, last I remember, Inter-province and Inter-city transport started before last Eid);
This last one is classic – “schedule our duty for a continuous 2-3 weeks and then let us go back to our village”! So, not only do we pay them their salary but, it now seems, they will even schedule their own work hours while on our payroll. I’d like a job like that 😊!
My point is, why do we give our trust to others, our hearts to others, our energy and resources for others, only for these “others” to stab us in the back?
It’s sad actually …
it does shake the trust we put in humanity and in our team members
On a recent online course, I was made to read one of the most POWERFUL essays (by Amy Gutmann) “The Lure & Dangers of Extremist Rhetoric”, a topic so so prevalent worldwide.
The speech is so profound that it actually made me sit up and take notice of my very own actions and reactions in arguments; and while these principals apply in politics, they are prevalent in family, work and society in general!
“Going as far back as Aristotle, he maintained that –
The proper task of rhetoric is to drive home the logic, the truth and the evidence of an argument.
Reason should frame a good politician’s goal to persuade.
The opposite of a sound democratic argument is demagogy: manipulation and deception in order to divide, demean, deceive and conquer [citizens].
Extremist rhetoric blatantly disregards and devalues truth-seeking understandings upon which citizens […] may make informed judgments.
It also undermines a basic value of representative politics- When politicians use extreme rhetoric to mobilize their base […] they strip the moderate middle of a voice in governance (excludes all those who might join a more moderate […] political coalition)
By its very nature, extremist rhetoric excludes from consideration important public values-
Consideration of equally competing values
Constructive conversations that improve decision making
Denigrates & degrades those who differ
Blocks constructive examination of rhetor’s own values and beliefs
When we argue about controversial issues, we should defend our views vigorously while expressing mutual respect for our adversaries […] and competing viewpoints.
We can do this by not preemptively rejecting everything for which our political adversaries stand.
It makes room for moral compromise over reasonable differences.”
Schools, colleges and universities are the natural ARMIES at the forefront to teach our citizens the art of rhetoric, in the words of Amy Guttman –
“In searching for antidotes to extremism, there is therefore no substitute for a better democratic education in robust, reasoned, and respectful political controversy and debate. We need to teach students how to engage with one another over controversial issues. Students must first learn how to recognize demagogic rhetoric and then how to counter it, both individually and institutionally.
Well-designed democratic institutions can dramatically reduce the toxic effects of extremist rhetoric. We need to support institutional structures whose incentives encourage respectful controversy. Well-structured debates and factcheck blogs can expose extremist and extreme rhetoric that is deceptive and subversive of the democratic pursuit of the public interest.“
This is the start of ‘War Against Extremist Rhetoric’!
REPLY ADDRESS BY MR. DINSHAW B AVARI ON THE OCCASION TO COMMEMORATE HIS 85th BIRTHDAY on NOV 5, 1987-
“Sir Sidney Ridley confirmed to me that he would protect me and would ensure that the Hotel, if purchased by me, would not be requisitioned during the Second World War for the Army, Navy and Air Force, as was the custom.
So, putting up my entire life’s savings and borrowing the rest, I went to Mr. Wyseman and purchased the Bristol Hotel for Rs.100,000/-. Mr Wyseman agreed on one condition- that Khorshed and I learn the hotel business with him for a few months. So, every morning at 4 a.m. I went to the Empress Market to purchase all the groceries, and the mutton, beef, chicken, fish, vegetables and fruits.
As soon as six months training were over and Mr. Wyseman handed over the Hotel to me and left Karachi – and the Bristol Hotel got requisitioned!
When I went to Sir Sidney Ridley and informed him about this, he phoned the British Provost Marshal of the Army to enquire why this was done. The Provost Marshal said “How can a bloody Indian run an English Hotel?”
Sir Sidney Ridley insisted the Hotel be de-requisitioned and the Provost Marshal accepted only on my written agreement to reduce the charges to Rs. 5/- per room and Rs.7/- for room with all meals. Sir Sidney Ridley said I would go bankrupt, but I agreed. Inspite of all my social status, I was still a “bloody Indian” but I was willing to take the challenge.
Now, the charge for a Chota (small) Peg for a Whiskey was Rs. l/. I immediately doubled it and got the Sargeant at Mauripur Airport to send me as many soldiers as he liked and I would pay him Rs.1/- per soldier, as his commission.
Then, I put 6 soldiers in a room and within one year, with both husband and wife working till 2 a.m. in the morning, we made a net profit of Rs. One Lac in the very first year- I paid up the money I had paid to buy the hotel.”
The world is going through some of the toughest times it’s ever faced – and things are just not in our control … Nature is in control!
…and just like that, I came across this absolute riot of a book review by Ravina Rawal. It’s not new – it’s from 2014 – but I thought it was just the thing to lift spirits (pun-intended! 😊) and poke fun of our microcosm of a religious community in these trying times.
So, quoting verbatim from Ravina Rawal, here goes …
“The levity and longevity of mealy-mouthed Parsis
The Sunday Guardian · 23 Feb 2014
Sooni Taraporevala and Meher Marfatia’s new book is an exuberant, laugh-out-loud collection of “insults, endearments and other Parsi Gujarati phrases”, writes Ravina Rawal.
There’s almost nothing on earth I enjoy more than a disgruntled Parsi. Or, well, a Parsi in a good mood. Or a Parsi celebrating his/her 95th birthday. Or a Parsi after his/her fourth whisky, at a funeral. Because through all of life’s many celebrations and disappointments, through life’s many moods, theirs is just the same.
I don’t know if it’s the secret of some ancestral, evolution-affecting drug that’s still making future generations trip hard, or if it’s what happens to your genetic makeup when you only marry and procreate within the same 20,000-odd people. Either way, never have I met a people bursting with more enthusiasm, applause and outrageous sarcasm than this curious species of happy maniacs. (And I’m Punjabi.)
They will tell you proudly, “Mummo chuch cho vugur ‘seerpa’ nahin” (If you don’t swear, you are not a Parsi). And they’ll be right. While the rest of the world is busy getting offended at everything that comes out of everyone’s mouth, the Parsis are having an absolute riot, roaring with laughter at the wicked names they’re calling each other (and their mothers and fathers and aunts and grandparents and house pets).
They don’t care how insulting or politically in correct it is, their brains work relentlessly to conjure up the most imaginative insults the rest of us have ever heard.
“Chumna jheva pug” (feet like pomfret), they’ll remark of a person with large feet. “Who? Boman? Evun toh photo frame thai guya (he became a photo frame)!” they’ll tell you casually about some one who just died, a phrase also substituted with “Kolmee thai guya” (he’s be came a prawn). And some how it isn’t disturbing at all that you’ll of ten hear a mother squeal, “Tuhree kule jee khau!” (I’ll eat your liver!) to her child — because it comes with a generous side of love, laughter and kissy-koti.
“Oont nee gaan ma jeera no vughar” literally means “a sprinkling of jeera in the bum of a camel”, used when referring to a big eater who’s been given too little food.
“Tum boo ma sahib,” they’ll say without a second thought to a pregnant lady, referring to the “boss in the tent”.
Which reminds me of a famous Parsi actor, who once spoke to the baby in my cousin’s belly for well over two hours over the course of a single evening. Not a word to my cousin, just a very fascinating conversation with (at) her stomach.
One of my closest friends not so long ago was Parsi, and I’ve spent endless hours grinning from ear to ear at her house at the dinner table where every dish was topped (or bottomed) with eedu (egg), and every bite punctuated with a quick bitch and moan about relatives (or friends who are really relatives because, Parsis). I may also have been the most enthusiastic of all her friends about accompanying her to family gatherings she herself so reluctantly showed up at, because I am acutely aware that 150 Parsis all at once is the sort of party you’re never going to forget, or other wise get invited to.
These guys also all seem to live for…ever? A near 100-yearold Parsi man or woman isn’t the “mado murgho” (sick hen/ sickly person) you’d expect them to be.
And there’s a tiny seed of senility that seems to set into them at a fairly young age (if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say age 10?), so the full blown happy madness that stares back at you from the eyes of a 98 year old, for instance, isn’t new or unsettling in any way.
Despite their ridiculous life-span, there are so few of them around in the first place — and some of them are even getting crazy enough to start marrying out side the community — that somewhere they’re all worried that their wildly evocative, some times bizarre and always funny vernacular will get lost for ever.
So, photographer-filmmaker Sooni Taraporevala and writer Meher Marfatia took up the cause, rounding up everyone they knew in the community for their contributions to what has resulted in a delightful archive of Parsi Gujarati.
Parsi Bol is a little handbook of over 700 “insults, endearments and other Parsi Gujarati phrases”; its pages peppered with lovely little illustrations by cartoonists Hemant Morparia and Farzana Cooper, bringing to life some of their choice picks.
Split into chapters that include picture phrases, sarcasms, insults, endearments, food, twin words, character traits, anatomy and advice, it’s a great book for everyone who’s ever been curious about the Parsis. I guarantee it will make you laugh out loud and share the things you read with whoever else is in the room.
If you don’t mind your favourite phrases in this book, the authors ask that you e-mail them to email@example.com to add to a possible sequel.”
REPLY ADDRESS BY MR. DINSHAW B AVARI ON THE OCCASION TO COMMEMORATE HIS 85th BIRTHDAY on NOV 5, 1987 –
(5 of 12)
“Mahatma Gandhi who made the British leave the Country, by his policy of non-violence, non-cooperation, asked all the Indians to stop insuring any foreign Life Insurance Companies. The result was that my business dwindled to such an extent that I had to make heavy inroads in my capital. By 1945, I wanted to change the line of work.
Mr Wyseman was a friend of mine, and he was the Proprietor of the Bristol Hotel. My darling wife Khorshed used to like to eat English Food and so off and on, we went and had our meals there.
He told me that the British had decided to leave India and he would like to sell his hotel. He wanted Rs. 1 Lac for all the stock, name and fame, furniture, crockery, cutlery, glassware, linen, etc. but not the building which was a hired property from a Bori and a Hindu jointly.
In those days, the Home Secretary, which today is the equivalent to the Chief Secretary, was Sir Sidney Ridley, who was very friendly with me and who had appointed me on many Government Committees. He was also a Rotarian with me, which Club had only 12 members in those days of 1933. The other members were Sir Montago Webb, (The First President of this Club) who was also the Editor and owner of Daily Gazette, Mr. Voegli, Manager of Volkart Brothers, who was the Honorary Secretary and the only Indian Members were Mr. Jamshed Mehta, Mr. Hatim Tayyabji, Advocate-General and Mr. Hatim Alvi along with myself. I was also the Organizer of Tobacco Fund for soldiers fighting in the Front and hence I was very popular with the British Community. The reason for my explaining you this is to give you an idea of my status because this has an interesting reference later on.”
It’s almost two months for our lockdown in Pakistan and working from home.
The first month went well, working from home I mean.
Started waking up at 7am, instead of 6
You find the time to exercise more
Lounge in your shorts and socks
No shirt, just your vest (in my case, Sadrah)
Come 5pm, put on your shirt and shoes (stay in your socks) and sit in the garden
… It’s fine as long as you keep working, keep at it, stay busy!
But now, now, now …. YAWNNNNNN ….
(forgot what I was thinking!)
Oh yes, I’VE TURNED LAZY!
Today, as I write these words, I realize that working from home is NOT AN OPTION. There is no such successful concept as “an office at home”. The novelty wears away. So does one’s creativity. Office interaction. Office dynamics.
Actually, now to think of it, it felt good going to office – sometimes even being first to open the doors – sticking to a ROUTINE. You then actually enjoy your weekends at home more.
but that doesn’t mean we forget all other social ills ☹.
I don’t recall the source or location of this Twitter picture but KUDOS to the inventor for this simple ‘garbage collector’ system to capture debris, rubbish, flotsam, etc.
So much of Karachi’s industrial waste, rubbish & sewerage finds its way into the Sea through its identifiable & controllable outlets & nalas (nala = stream).
There are manifold advantages to this simple model-
It’s cheap & easy to make – really, all it is, is a modified fishing net!
Easy to set up & operate – the way I visualize it is that you place it over the city sewer and “stormwater drain” outlets where they discharge into the creeks & canals leading into the sea.
Not only will it contain all the debris, stopping its passage into the sea on the ebb tide; but debris coming into the City on the flood tide will be contained.
It will lead to employment – let the villagers on the cusp of these drainage outlets be responsible for the operation of this system. They capture, collect and bag all such debris & flotsam; the City pays them; and KWSB simply schedules its collection thrice a day from each of these spots.
Take for example the stormwater drain (built in the ‘80’s by the World Bank) which passes Mai Kolachi into Chinna Creek. Over the last four decades, it morphed into a sewer. If you place one of these collection nets at the discharge outlet point (where it drops into Chinna Creek), you will effectively capture almost ALL plastic bags, Styrofoam and other floating debris. This can then be bagged and collected by KWSB or KPT.
Other such outlets are at – Shireen Jinnah Colony, Lyari River & it’s various streams, Moosa Lane Nala (fish harbour), Korangi Creek & it’s various nalas, Budnai Nala (Sandspit), Gogni & Nalas (Hawksbay), Hub River, nalas near HUBCO, Kanupp & Port Qasim.
WHERE THERE IS A WILL … THERE IS A WAY to clean up this City!