Ah, the eternal mystery that has stumped scholars, scientists, philosophers, and even Google search engines: What do Parsi mothers want? You can decode the Gathas, you can memorise every lagan-nu-bhonu recipe, but figuring out Mumma’s ever-increasing wish-list is like trying to find parking in a Parsi Baug at 7:00 pm – impossible!

For the Parsi mother, her child – whether 4, 14, 34 or 54 – will always be her “Nallo” or “Nalli.” And like all good bawas and bawis know, the title comes with lifelong membership in the ‘Mumma Control Club’. Nothing you do is ever enough, because ‘pelaano dikro/dikri’ (somebody else’s child) is somehow always better! “I’m so happy you scored 96.8%, but that Percy from B Block got 97.6%!” If you’re home too much: “Arrey! You’ve become like the extension of the sofa!” but if you’re out: “Stop using our home like a dharamshala!”

In our quest to find the answer to the eternal question: ‘What do Parsi Mummas want???’ let’s try to decode some ‘Mumma traits’ that might just bring us closer to understanding this enigma wrapped in a floral gown, armed with a rolling pin of guilt and fuelled by unconditional love!

The Eternal Comparison Game

First up, the Olympics of Parsi parenting: Comparison! You could win a Nobel Prize, build a rocket to Mars or marry a royal, but Mumma will always know someone who did better. “Wah dikra, you got promoted to Vice President! But Dolly’s son Behram is getting calls from NASA!” In Mumma’s world, you are never the champion (unless she’s bragging to the neighbours), you are the eternal underdog!

The Privacy Problem

Parsi Mummas do not believe in privacy. Your life is their open novel. They are equipped with a PhD in ‘Interference’ and an Honorary Doctorate in ‘Guilt-Tripping’. “Where you went?”… “With whom?”… “What you ate?”… “Why you didn’t tell me?” etc, etc. If you don’t tell her, she will guilt-trip you with Olympic-level drama: “My own son is hiding from me! Whole colony knows his whereabouts except for me! This is the price you pay for being a caring mother!” And that ultimate open-ended guilt line, “After all the sacrifices I made for you…”

Marriage: The Everest of Expectations

This is the biggest battlefield of all. According to Parsi Mummas, you must marry a nice, fair, Parsi boy or girl – preferably from a respectable baug family with money, manners and a discerning taste for Parsi food. If you’re single, you will be compared to all your married cousins and friends! And should you share with her your choice of mate, brace yourself for the Spanish Inquisition: “What’s the surname? How educated is he/she? Are they earning more than you? What’s their complexion?” And keep the smelling salts ready before letting on if your partner is vegetarian!

The Food Fiasco

Food is the love language in every Parsi household. But with Mumma, it’s also a confusing war. While Monday’s dinner will have her complaining, “Aaj-kal kai khatoch nathi!” (you’re just not eating much these days!), it will be, “Ketlu khaich! Pet baar aavech! Pachi koi panse nai!” (How much are you eating! Your stomach’s protruding! Who will marry you!?) after Wednesday’s dinner! It’s the tightrope walk of every Parsi child: eat enough to prove you’re not starving, but not so much that you become Exhibit A in Mumma’s obesity rant.

The Curfew Conundrum

Age is irrelevant. You could be 16 or 46, living in New Zealand or Napean Sea Road. For Mumma, you are always her “nallo” or “nalli.” If you come home late, she’ll say, “Why are you becoming like that Rakharto Rustom! This is your home, not a Dharamshala!” But if you’re home early, it’s: “So early? Your friends have stopped talking to you or what?”

Mumma Logic: Impossible Demands

Ah! The sacred scrolls of Mumma Logic – an ancient, ever-evolving set of expectations passed down through generations of Parsi Mummas with the precision of a Swiss clock and the intensity of a Bollywood mother-in-law. She wants her kiddo to be traditional enough to go to the Agiary every week, yet modern enough to give TED Talks on Netflix series and post Instagram reels like an influencer. They must earn enough to own a swanky car, but sensible enough use the local train to work. They should be slim and “presentable,” yet eat like a wrestler preparing for the Food Olympics at mealtime. Mumma wants you married young, but preferably living in the same house forever, so she can supervise whether your wife/husband is buttering toast correctly! It’s an impossible algebra of expectations that would make Einstein throw up his chalk and declare, “Even relativity can’t solve this!”

The Love Beneath It All

Yet, for all the nagging, the comparisons, the contradictions, the control-freak tendencies, and the interference that makes CID look like amateur detectives… lies a fierce, unconditional love. A Parsi Mumma may shout at you for not eating, for eating too much, for coming home early, for coming home late, for breathing too loudly… but let anyone else point a finger at you, and she instantly transforms into a full-blown tigress. She will fight her husband, the baug, the BPP and the universe to defend her ‘nallo’ / ‘nalli’.

The Answer…

So, what do Parsi mothers want? The answer is simple – they want everything, all at once, and preferably yesterday. They want you to eat, not eat, come home, go out, earn more, work less, talk more, shut up, get married, stay single, live with them forever, and also become the next Ratan Tata.

The truth is, Parsi Mummas want the impossible because nothing in this world could ever be enough for the love they feel for their children. They only want for their children to be happy… in the very specific way they define happiness!! And let’s face it – we wouldn’t have it any other way. Because no matter how much they nag, guilt-trip or compare, Parsi Mummas remain the funniest, fiercest, most fabulous forces of nature. And admit it, dear ‘Nallas’ and ‘Nallis’, without Parsi Mummas, we’d all be as lost as bawas at a vegan buffet!