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Reprinted with permission from Dr Vispi Jokhi’s blog, "Musings, Own Thoughts.” While growing up I don’t quite remember if my parents ever made me aware of my religion as a Parsi Zoroastrian child. Unlike in the homes of my cousins and Parsi friends, the picture of Prophet Zoroaster was not an enlarged, prominent one, omnipresent in every room and ritually garlanded, along with the customary offering of diva batti (oil lamps). My childhood memories are of a family of hard-working, middle class parents focused on earning money to ensure a good education and future for both my elder sister and myself.  For......