Anahita Desai

As we step into a New Year, we often speak of renewal, fresh beginnings and resolutions for ourselves. Yet, alongside personal growth lies an equally important question: what does it mean to be a responsible member of our community? Community responsibility is not confined to trusts, committees or institutions. It lives in everyday conduct, in participation rather than complaint, and in choosing involvement over indifference. As we welcome 2026, this is perhaps a meaningful moment to reflect on how each of us can be more aware and responsible community members. Anahita Desai offers a thoughtful and timely perspective, informed by years of hands-on service and a quiet consistency in living the values that most only speak of.

It’s rather common, within our community, to hear concerns about housing, ageing populations, disengaged youth or declining participation. For the most part, the responsibility for solving these issues is placed squarely on community trusts and institutions. While their role is vital, the question we must ask ourselves is: does community responsibility lie only with trusts, or with each of us?

Parsi trusts manage invaluable assets – baugs, agiaries, schools, senior care facilities – built through the foresight and generosity of earlier generations. Anyone living in a Parsi baug knows that a trust can maintain buildings, but it cannot create a sense of community belonging. That only happens when residents feel a bond, look out for elderly neighbours, keep common spaces clean and resolve differences with respect, not acrimony.

Take the everyday example of a baug meeting. Attendance is often sparse, yet dissatisfaction is widespread. Only a handful of residents show up to engage constructively and decisions fall into the hands of a few, and mistrust grows. In contrast, baugs tend to function more smoothly when residents volunteer for committees, monitor maintenance honestly and communicate regularly, thus not requiring any intervention from trusts.

While trusts may administer housing and oversee welfare initiatives, fairness cannot exist without the willing cooperation of the community. Integrity is upheld as much by trustees who insist on transparency as by applicants who honour rules rather than seek favours. True accountability is not manufactured through policies or procedures, it is sustained by individuals who choose ethical conduct over convenience.

The care of elderly Parsis illustrates this truth clearly. While trust-run homes and welfare schemes exist, loneliness remains a growing concern. Regular neighbourly check-ins, help with daily tasks or shared baug celebrations often offer greater reassurance and warmth than any formal system.

Even the very survival of our faith rests largely outside institutional walls. Agiaries may be maintained by trusts, but they remain meaningful only when individuals attend, observe decorum and pass traditions on to the next generation. A parent teaching a child prayers at home does more for continuity than any circular or directive ever could.

This is not to diminish the responsibility of trusts – they must be transparent, efficient and accountable. But the Parsi ethos has always placed responsibility on the individual, guided by Humata, Hukhta, Huvarshta. Good institutions matter, but good individuals matter more. Ultimately, the health of the Parsi community will be determined not simply by what our trusts provide, but by how each of us chooses to participate. Community responsibility does not begin in boardrooms, it begins in baugs, homes, agiaries… and in the everyday choices made by each one of us.

May this New Year witness a renewed sense of shared responsibility, quieter acts of care, and a collective resolve to actively build the community we wish to inherit and pass on. Happy New Year!