At any Western classical music performance that I attend in Mumbai, the audience is always a sea of elderly Parsis. (Parsis are a tiny community of Zoroastrians who migrated from Iran to India in the eighth century.) There were the regulars: the elderly gentleman with a scimitar nose, bobbing his head in time to the music; the sari-clad grandmother, impeccably attired and dignified. It is a running joke that if anyone wanted to finish our community off in one go, the easiest way would be at a Western classical performance.
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