I enquire about Dhun Daraius Bugli, a name that I have heard of when foodie friends talk about who makes the most authentic Parsi food in Delhi. She laughs, says, “I am Dhun Bugli.” Well, before I know it, I book myself for a meal next day from her kitchen at the dharamshala.

At 9 p.m. next evening, I find myself eagerly waiting for the fare to arrive at a table in the dinning hall of the dharamshala. It has a pretty, lacy cloth over it. A sideboard with bone china serve-ware comes to my notice. There is a fireplace too with black and white photographs of people I don’t know. On the walls are photos of tigers, clicked by Dhun Bugli’s son Cawas Bugli. A display box has books on Zoroastrianism, their gathas, etc. for sale. Their pale covers certainly say that they have been waiting for long to go off the shelf.

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