Zoroastrianism: Embroidery and Heritage of Humanity
Eighth class in a series on the TISS-PARZOR Academic Programme in Culture & Civilisations: A Zoroastrian Perspective
Prof. Shernaz Cama stuffed so much information in, I almost feel like I absorbed nothing. Yet when I studied my silver necklace someone had gifted to me as a toddler, I at last perceived its Parsi motifs. I saw all the little details that I’d missed before.
My mother doesn’t remember who gave me the necklace, maybe she and my father when we were visiting my grandparents in Delhi. I was two years old. It was the last class that got me pulling it out to study it, and this class on embroidery that made me see the Parsi embroidery in its silverwork.
Prof. Cama used embroidery to introduce the concept of Heritage of Humanity. This concept refers to how Parsis adapted various cultures in Parsi embroidery while retaining unique Parsi features in their garas.
Parsi Gara and Temperate Silk
Once upon a time, Parsi women, rich and poor, learnt needlework. The story goes that textile traders from China would visit the same families, getting to know them so well that they’d drop off their heavy textiles on their verandahs and then return in the hot afternoon to smoke their opium pipes and embroider the silks. The Parsi women of the house would observe. Through observation, they learnt the embroidery art and adapted it.
Parsis began decorating their saris with embroidered borders. Then they expanded the embroidery to encompass the entire six yards of sari silk. They call this type of fully embroidered sari “gara.” Silk, crepe, and georgette are the main fabrics because they’re light enough to take the weight of the embroidery without becoming too heavy and hot, unlike satin, which used to be used. Up until the 1970s, Parsis manufactured a type of silk that was transparent and flowing enough to drape elegantly yet strong enough to hold the weight of embroidery. Called temperate silk, it was a Jacquard ghat with sugar coating for gloss and the gajji silk which allowed the cloth to be light and cool. Parzor Foundation calls for study of this unique Parsi sari silk.
In more recent times they omitted embroidery from the ends and other parts of the sari that are hidden when worn. In that way, the sari appears more elegant and is not as weighed down.
Parsi Motifs
Motifs taken from architecture and the Bundahishn appear in the embroidery. Animals and humans do as well. You can distinguish Parsi embroidery from Islamic in Iran because Parsis don’t have restrictions around showing animals and humans. And unlike in Chinese embroidery, dragons aren’t extremely rare. Prof. Cama said that in all their searching, Parzor found only one piece of clothing that showed a dragon representation in embroidery, and that was on a child’s Jhabla (tunic). Parsis see snakes as evil (how very interesting — my mind went straight to the Genesis Creation story — so many parallels), so that’s why dragons wouldn’t appear. Still, she asked if anyone spots one or knows of one to tell Parzor Foundation.
Animals are helpers.
Another distinguishing feature of Parsi embroidery from Chinese is that Chinese women’s clothing is cut, stitched, and fitted, which requires a repetitive, symbolic design, whereas the flowing nature of a Parsi sari means that one can embroider stories or a narrative. She showed us a section of one gara that had fish swimming in waters, filled with creatures and plants of all kinds, nothing repeated as they cavorted along the entire length of the fabric.
Heritage of Humanity
Over the centuries, Parsi women added to their inherited Parthian and Sasanian motifs, influences from China, Islam, India, Europe, and Great Britain.
The trellis came from Persian (Zoroastrian) architecture.
Peacocks from India.
Endless knot from China.
Scallops from Europe.
Dogs from Persia — the first companion of Zoroastrians in their Central Asian Steppes origins and thus revered. She told a cute adage. If you see a sleeping dog, you must not set your foot down violently on the ground for fear of waking the dog up. One must let the dog sleep, eh!
Spiders from Persian lore — a saviour during Zoroastrian flight from their invaders. The story goes that as the Zoroastrians were fleeing from the Arabic Muslim invaders, feeling hungry, thirsty, and tired, they found refuge in a dry well. A small spider, seeing their suffering and vulnerability, wove a web over the top of the well. When the invader soldiers looked into the well, all they saw was a spider’s web and assumed no human was in there and went on fruitlessly searching. As a result, no Parsi kills a spider. Oops. I had no idea! Now I understand one of the motifs on my grandmother’s wedding sari that was sewn on in gold.
Gold and Silver
Parsi women use silver thread and hollow gold tubes threaded through and sewn on in their embroidery. I’d never seen that kind of embroidery until after my grandmother died and my Uncle showed me her wedding sari for the first time. Years later, I learnt that her Parsi gara’s border told the story of their family’s annual travels to their vacation homes north of Rangoon, Burma. I had my father tell the story while showing the border as my mother videotaped him. I hope they still have it!
Although there is a similar protection story about chameleons, the Parzor Foundation has not found chameleons on embroidery. In that story, a chameleon, seeing the refugees approaching a well to slake their thirst in the desert and realizing they didn’t know the invader soldiers were waiting to ambush them, jumped onto a soldier to create a flash of colour against their camouflage. The chameleon jumped from soldier to soldier, alerting the refugees by flashing colour against the desert-hiding soldiers. The refugees avoided the ambush.
Symbols
Embroidery often depicts protective symbols or motifs. One adapted in a humorous way is from China: the Dogs of Foo. Another from daoist tradition is the eight symbols of protection. Common Zoroastrian ones are the rooster and the simurgh.
The pearl circle motif is from Sasanian royalty. It travelled to Tang China before the invasion. Today, it appears in Zoroastrian textiles in different forms. After this lecture, I spotted it and the trellis motif in my silver necklace from childhood. The circle is a Zoroastrian symbol of perfection.
Every flower in the Book of Creation, the Bundahishn, represents an angel. That’s why flowers feature prominently in Parsi embroidery. Plus flowers are pretty. Prof. Cama went through a few meanings.
Orange chrysanthemum: Sarosh.
White chrysanthemum: Mino Ram, spirit of abiding peace.
Water Lily: Ava, Lily of Khordad.
The Hundred Petalled Rose of Din: angel of religion.
Stitching the Past into the Present
A unique Parsi stitch, the khakho, is now lost. Prof. Cama dared to cut one to investigate how it was done. It seemed to be a variation of the “Pekin knot and French knot with a twist in the end for depth.” Parsi embroidery uses eight types of the satin stitch. I learnt embroidery from a non-Parsi friend’s mother back in my pre-teens, including the satin stitch. I had no idea there were eight types and uniquely Parsi types.
My kind of ignorance is so common that Parzor holds workshops where grandmothers sit alongside their granddaughters to learn Parsi embroidery and understand the symbols and stitches. As a result, Parzor won the UNESCO Award of Excellence for the revival of handicrafts in 2008 and 2012.
Resurrecting and Adapting Parsi Design
In the 21st century, designers are adapting Parsi embroidery tradition to new formats, including adding to the Lehanga for Parsi weddings in the diaspora. Adaptation is how you keep this tangible culture alive.
Embroidery took up the first hour. An art that’s an oral transmission in the brain laid down in tangible form.
Parsi Contributions to Literature and Living Art Forms took up the second hour. An obviously tangible form.
Literature, Living Art Forms, and a Challenging Question
The written art form gained importance in the Sasanian period.
Parsis were pioneers in journalism and journals. They founded educational journals, pioneered journals aimed at women, a Parsi was the first woman journalist in India. Prof. Cama said that Zoroastrians speak truth to power. That made me think. It’s my British mother, not my Zoroastrian father, who has no trouble with me challenging the complacent, the ones in power.
People of the Book
Many Parsis write novels and non-fiction. Islam calls Parsis “People of the Book.”
Almost all my novels feature a Zoroastrian character in a way that reflects my diaspora experience. I don’t know if I fall under the category of “Parsi writer,” though. I’m a Canadian writer whose books sell outside of Canada, who’s an “ethnic” who doesn’t obviously write ethnic genre, which CanLit much prefers (such lovely racists, eh?). In other words, my Zoroastrian characters exist within the general Canadian milieu, not within their own Parsi community.
I am using this course to refine my ideas and concepts for my third novel of The Q’Zam’Ta Trilogy. The first novel The Soul’s Awakening won Canada’s The Word Award for General Fiction — Speculative in 2025.
Influencing Asia
Korean cinema, Bollywood, and Japanese anime have their roots in Parsi theatre. I think maybe that’s why when I discovered K-Dramas and Indian movies on Netflix, I was so drawn to them. As much as I want to watch something in English — subtitles make you miss stuff and I have to rewatch — and at least Indian English dubbing is decent because English is a common language in India contrary to what some educated professionals told me in my former life — I keep gravitating back to these shows.
But the biggest message, or rather challenge, Prof. Cama presented in this section was:
Why are we dying?!
The Marginal Man Syndrome
Coined by sociologist Robert Ezra Park in 1926, the Marginal Man concept describes how an individual like me suspended between two cultures struggles to establish their identity.
Applying it to an entire culture, Prof. Cama asked why Parsis act like they have Marginal Man Syndrome. When they move to another country, like my family to Canada, we sit between two cultures whether or not we’re of mixed blood. I can understand how that creates instability.
How do you adapt?
Do you give up some of your cultural celebrations?
Does your language languish into disuse?
But I don’t understand why this issue is happening in India when Parsis have been living there for centuries.
Why when two Parsis meet in, let’s say, Hyderabad, do they not speak Parsi Gujarati? Why do Parsis name their children with non-Parsi names when our names are so beautiful, Prof. Cama asked. Yeah! Shireen means sweet. Why wouldn’t a Zoroastrian parent, especially in India, not want to name their child that or Farida or Cyrus or Rustom or Darius or Aban? So many lovely names to choose from. Is it embarrassment? Not wanting to stand out from English names or Indian names?
I personally am rather unrelenting about my name. I pushed back hard against Canadians who tried to tell me my name wasn’t Shireen but Sharon or some other variation. I’m militant that people should not have to change their name to “fit in” or make the dominant culture feel comfortable, no matter where they’re from. Who are you if not your name? Why should I change my name because you don’t want to learn how to pronounce it? Does it matter if you don’t have the phonemes to pronounce a “foreign” name as a native speaker? No, not as long as you try. Trying is better than renaming. Also, we learn so much about other cultures when peoples keep their names.
Prof. Cama called English both the “master language” and “monster language.” Something is lost in translation for me there! But I get that a culture needs to pass on its language for the next generations to understand aspects such as humour, a way of looking and interacting with the world, feeling deeply the meanings of all the motifs, and so on.
Prof. Cama put up a slide and asked us to identify where we or our families land on this. I studied it.
Specific Stages listed by UNESCO in the UNESCO Atlas of World Languages in Danger, 2009.
These stages are linked with intergenerational transmission of language.
Safe — Language spoken by all- Intergenerational transmission is uninterrupted.
Unsafe — Most children’s speak languages but restricted to domain of home.
Definitely endangered — Children no longer learn language as mother tongue.
Severely endangered — Language spoken by grandparents. Parent generation understand, they do not speak it to children.
Critically endangered — Youngest speakers are grandparents and older and they speak it infrequently.
I shared how my family fell under severely endangered while my grandparents were still alive.
Prof. Cama shared that in India, it’s critically endangered. That shocked me. Why in India is the Marginal Many Syndrome acting out?
I know most of the next generation in my family falls under that category because my father wouldn’t speak Parsi Gujarati to me for whatever reason (I think he said he didn’t know it that well); my Uncle or father only taught me the Farsi in the funeral rites; my father’s mother tried to teach me Parsi Gujarati and was quite ticked with my father for not teaching me, and I really wanted to learn; but only she spoke it with me. My grandfather, coming from the Burmese Zoroastrian community and having no linguistic ability, spoke only English. And my mother being British and considering herself language-learning challenged speaks only English. None of the languages I learnt in India were Parsi in origin. But mine is the experience of the diaspora where one would expect the Marginal Man Syndrome to manifest.
Prof. Cama ended the class with suggested essays on human migration and the Marginal Man Syndrome and specifically asked me to read them. They’re on my reading list.
Phew.




Wow! Intense work. Thanks for investigating all this. I learned embroidery from my mother and taught it to my granddaughter, but it was simple stitching. Still enjoyable, and I was pleased to pass it along.