There we stood, the three of us, our feet planted firmly at the entrance to the Towers of Silence at Doongerwadi in Mumbai, India. Our hope was to make our way to the viewing area where the Zoroastrians dispose of their dead. Vultures circled overhead.<\/p>\n
At the time, Andrew, our English teacher friend, was living on the top floor of a twenty-four-storey apartment building near the \u201cgarden on the hill\u201d. He would watch vultures circle the place, swoop down into a black hole, out of sight, and after an hour or more, he observed the scavengers fly out of the pit and perch precariously on the outlying trees. He thought the birds looked heavier.<\/p>\n
It was our second time to India, but our first time to Mumbai. Andrew advised us to take a taxi from the airport to his house for tea. Once we arrived we settled in to familiar conversation.<\/p>\n
\u201cI got my binoculars and searched the area for what would cause the birds to be so attracted to it. What a shock!\u201d Andrew said.<\/p>\n
Tell us what you know about the area,\u201d Frank said.<\/p>\n
\u201cA shop owner across from the site told me that it\u2019s called the Tower of Silence and is used by the Zoroastrians to dispose of their dead. Apparently, they still use an old-age method of getting rid of dead bodies and consider it the most hygienic method,\u201d Andrew said. \u201cHere have a look at this.\u201d He handed us a photocopy of the Tower showing the general layout and interior view.<\/p>\n
Frank and I gazed at the diagram of the circular platform inside the Tower while Andrew read some information he\u2019d gathered from the Internet. \u201cThe central well is about 300 feet in circumference and is entirely paved with large stone slabs divided into three rows of shallow open receptacles. The first row is for the corpses of the males, the second row for the women and the third row for corpses of children.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, they lay the corpses on the slabs and let the vultures at them?\u201d I said. Frank mumbled hmm<\/em> under his breath. Was he as disgusted as I was?<\/p>\n \u201cIt says the clothes wrapped round the corpses are removed and destroyed immediately after they are placed in the Tower. At the Doongerwadi on Malabar Hill, there are 5 Dokhmas and a Chotra.\u2019<\/p>\n \u201cSo, a Dokhmas is a Tower, but what is a Chotra?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n Our friend snapped close the cover of his laptop and grabbed his apartment keys. \u201cIt\u2019s used to dispose of amputated limbs. Hey, it\u2019s just around the corner from here. Let\u2019s go have a look!\u201d<\/p>\n We walked out into the stifling tropical climate of India, navigating through the beggars and throngs of people on the sidewalks and arrived contentedly at the open gates to the Towers of Silence. I had expected to inhale the scents of death including the taste of copper that fills the back of my throat when I\u2019m handling raw meat at home. Instead, the fragrance of exotic flowers filled my nostrils and sat gently on the tips of my lips. I smiled. Frank gripped my hand and moved forward toward the procession of people walking to the Tower; Andrew followed. The body of a deceased person was being carried on a flat board by corpse-bearers. The folks that followed were dressed in white flowing full dress robes. They strolled in pairs, each couple hand in hand holding a white handkerchief between them. We were stopped at the edge of the garden by two men, one older sporting a long grey beard; the other younger dressed immaculately in brilliant white.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is a private ceremony. You cannot go any further,\u201d the older man said. \u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n Andrew spoke first. \u201cI live just in that building over there and I\u2019m curious, well, we\u2019re all curious about this place. Can you help us understand it?\u201d<\/p>\n The gentle man and his companion nodded and each lifted his left arm toward a series of buildings behind us. \u201cWe can explain everything to you while we enjoy a cup of tea. Come.\u201d<\/p>\n After we were seated comfortably on benches, the young man disappeared for a short while and returned with steaming hot glasses of sweet tea. The atmosphere was calm and endearing. In front of us stood a large to-scale model of one of the Towers of Silence at this location. No matter the size, the architecture is the same. Our teacher was a High Priest whose duty included educating the non-Zoroastrian population on the practice of avoiding contaminating the earth with a dead body. His voice was low and monotone. His English pronunciation was perfect. I removed my small notepad and pen from my backpack and began recording.<\/p>\n \u201cAll creations of God are useful and pure; and they should not be unnecessarily spoiled or polluted. The earth, water, and fire, are good, useful and holy creations of God. We believe that Yazata, a Spiritual Being, presides over each good and holy creation of God. To spoil or pollute any of these creations is sinful. A dead body, if not properly and ceremoniously disposed of, is a possible source of pollution and disease; and it is therefore enjoined to dispose of the body ceremoniously and with proper care so that least possible harm is caused to other creations and creatures.\u201d<\/p>\n Andrew interrupted. \u201cI\u2019m Catholic and we bury our dead in coffins. How do Baha\u2019is dispose of their dead?\u201d He directed his question at Frank and me.<\/p>\n \u201cWe bury our dead in the ground too,\u201d Frank said and gestured to our teacher to continue.<\/p>\n I could tell that the High Priest was used to curious questions from strangers. I was intrigued by the unique system of disposal that is the most perfect solution of dead bodies in hot yet moist tropical climes. I was used to hearing about religious-driven rituals and the passion associated with them by believers. I listened intently as our teacher explained how after the corpse has been eaten away by vultures within a short period of time the bones remain exposed to the cleansing rays of the sun, to be removed ultimately to the central pit. He assured us that all physical components that make up an individual are dissolved with death in a natural way, to be reassembled at the time of Resurrection. I wrote: explore other religions interpretation of resurrection.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cAllow me to describe the structure of the Tower of Silence using this model. The circular platform inside the Tower, about 300 feet in circumference, is entirely paved with large stone slabs well cemented and divided into three rows of shallow open receptacles, corresponding with the three moral precepts of the Zoroastrian Religion \u2013 \u201cgood thoughts\u201d, \u201cgood words\u201d, and \u201cgood deeds\u201d. The first row marked A, is for the corpses of males. The second row marked B, for corpses of females. The third row marked C, for corpses of children. These are the foot paths for corpse-bearers to move about.\u201d The High Priest stepped back and paused. \u201cDo you have any questions, so far?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n We shook our heads in unison. I prepared to record again in my practiced short hand.<\/p>\n The grand man stepped closer to the model and pointed to the well.<\/p>\n \u201cThere are holes in the inner side of the well through which the rain-water is carried into four underground drains at the base of the Tower. These drains are connected with four underground wells, the bottoms of which are covered with a thick layer of sand. Pieces of charcoal and sandstone are also placed at the end of each drain. These double sets of filters are provided for purifying the rain-water passing over the bones, before it enters the ground \u2013 thus observing one of the tenets of the Zoroastrian Religion that Mother earth shall not be defiled.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cImpressive,\u201d Frank murmured.<\/p>\n \u201cVultures are nature\u2019s scavengers and do their work much more expeditiously than millions of insects would do if dead bodies were buried in the ground. By this rapid process, putrefaction, with all its concomitant evils, is most effectually prevented,\u201d the professor said.<\/p>\n Our private audience with this most knowledgeable High Priest impressed me. His manner exuded patience, endurance and gentleness. I felt a strong compulsion to follow up on Andrew\u2019s earlier comment.<\/p>\n \u201cIt sounds like nature is very much a part of your religious convictions. Can you tell us about that aspect of your beliefs?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cAccording to the centuries old Zoroastrian religion, Earth, Fire and Water are sacred and very useful to mankind, and in order to avoid their pollution by contact with putrefying flesh, the Zoroastrian religion strictly enjoins that the dead bodies should not be buried in the ground, or burnt, or thrown into seas, rivers, etcetera,\u201d the master said.<\/p>\n I consigned that all religions have their own beliefs. For example, Baha\u2019i Faith believers adhere to the law that the dead body is to be washed and afterward wrapped in natural cloth. The corpse is to be set in a coffin and buried in the ground.<\/p>\n The High Priest continued. \u201cIn accordance with the religious injunctions, the Parsees build their Towers of Silence on the top of hills, if available. No expense is spared in constructing them of the hardest and best materials, with a view that they may last for centuries without the possibility of polluting the Earth, or contaminating any living beings dwelling thereon.\u201d At this point, he gestured toward Andrew who lives in a building at the critical edge of the \u201cgarden on the hill\u201d.<\/p>\n A soft tap on the door interrupted our instructor\u2019s seminar. He put his hands in a prayer position and bowed. \u201cPlease, excuse me,\u201d he said and left the room. My seat near the door held the coveted position through which I could see activity on the other side of the glass. An entourage of guards was positioned in a semi-circle around a large man dressed in a military uniform. The High Priest was listening to him speak in a language foreign to me. I shrugged my shoulders at Frank and Andrew who wondered what was going on out there.<\/p>\n After a few minutes, the High Priest returned and asked if we had any questions before we end our time together. We decided unanimously that we\u2019d gained enough information about the Towers of Silence that we could carry on with our walk around this Mumbai neighbourhood. We gestured our appreciation with hands in the prayer position and a slight bow. On our way out, we dropped coins into the donations jar. We didn\u2019t speak until we left the property and stood on the busy sidewalk.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay. Let\u2019s head to the U.S. Embassy. I\u2019ve got some papers that need signing,\u201d Andrew said. \u201cWe\u2019re likely to have another adventure there.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Garden on the Hill<\/b>
\nOur leader continued. \u201cA deep central well in the Tower about 150 feet in circumference is used for depositing the dry bones. The corpse is completely stripped of its flesh by vultures within an hour or two, and the bones of the denuded skeleton when perfectly dried up by the atmosphere and the powerful heat of the tropical sun, are thrown into this well, where they gradually crumble into dust chiefly consisting of lime and phosphorus; – thus the rich and the poor meet together on one level of equality after death.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nThere we stood, the three of us, our feet planted firmly at the entrance to the Towers of Silence at Doongerwadi in Mumbai, India. Our hope was to make our way to the viewing area where the Zoroastrians dispose of their dead. Vultures circled overhead. At the time, Andrew, our English teacher friend, was living on\u2026<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":809,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-106","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-creative-non-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/106","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=106"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/106\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":709,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/106\/revisions\/709"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/809"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=106"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=106"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=106"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}