Cowasji Casanova’s Valentine’s Day Adventures

Cowasji was an extremely romantic bachelor-boy (only 60 years old) who was always searching for the love of his life. Unfortunately, he always searched in all the wrong places and got heart-broken repeatedly.. like the New Year’s Eve dance two months ago, when he wore stinky socks to the dance and as soon as Freny Fox-trot took the first dance-step, she asked Cowasji to remove his Vaas-marta moja if he wanted to continue dance. Cowsi obliged and came back in a jiffy but the stink was even more unbearable.

Cowasji: You told me to remove the socks so I did and put them in my shirt’s pocket.

And that marked the end of romance with Freny – sapno foos!

Cowasji then requested Coomi Kaajwali to show him some kachchi-kumari kavli prospective girls. Coomi showed him Aloo Oliyaji who was total Oliya-Gapaat i.e. upper-story empty – Rejected!

Then came Banoo Bhathena who told Cowasji within five minutes of the meeting:  Jovni bava, hamey toh Bhathena, etle saat mathena; I’ll be the boss in this marriage – Rejected!

Cunning Ketayun, the gold digger, was next. They met at Starbucks and he liked her and thought this was the woman for him, the love of his life! She talked of movies she had seen, books she had read and plays, art galleries and had a great sense of humour.

Cowasji: If I marry you, will you tell me one joke every day?

Ketayun: I’ll tell you ten if you tell me how much money you have. Oh! By the way, if I marry you, will you give me Rs. 50,000 every month as pocket money?

Covasji got an electric shock. You see, Rs.50,000 was almost his total income per month. Since he had retired, he was living on his small investment, so he tried to evade the question.

Cowasji: Forget the money! I’ll give you lots of love and keep you like a princess. I’ll take you all over Mumbai on ‘Hamara Bajaj’ scooter!

Ketayun: Scoot off, you silly man! I want a Mercedes-valo hubby.

Cowasji: I’ll even cook breakfast, lunch and dinner for you.

Ketayun: I already have my cook, Flory, who cooks for me!

Cowasji: I can do all sorts of work for you – I’ll open the house- door for Kachrawalo, Eedavalo, Fishwalo and Ganga. You will never have to open the door in your married life.

Ketayun: I think we should close the door on this subject! Get lost – You Karka-baroos!

And she left in a huff, leaving him to pay the bill which included several of her pack-ups which he could hardly afford.

Cowasji was heart-broken, so Coomi Kaajwali arranged the next meeting with an NRI girl from New Zealand, called Nancy the Fancy. Trouble was that her front teeth were protruding outwards and Cowsi was worried about the big orthodontia expense he may have to incur. Then again, she had zero fashion-sense and wore maxis that looked like gher-no-gown. Still, Cowsi gave her a chance.

Cowasji: Nancy Mai, India gamej ke?

Nancy: Speak in English. I don’t understand Gujarati.

Cowasji: Isn’t India better than New Zealand ?

Nancy : Is this a joke or a trick question? Look, Mr. Casanova, I can consider marrying you only on condition that the very next day after marriage, you will throw your parents out of the house, bag and baggage, along with the old furniture. Because, I’ll decorate the house my way!

Rejected on the spot!!

Cowasji then sought family-friend, Meherbai’s advice on how to impress a girl with sparkling conversation. Meherbai advised him to ask a lady if she was married and if so, how many children she had etc. This is called ‘small talk’ she said. Soon, Cowasji was invited to a large society wedding and seated himself between two very pretty ladies where he tried to have sparkling conversation.

Cowasji: Maila, do you have children?

First Mailu: Yes. Two sons and a daughter.

Cowasji: Are you married?

One super-duper tight slap landed on his face as the pretty-girl got-up and walked away. Cowasji could not understand this violent behaviour and was very perplexed. He then turned towards the second mailoo and asked her if she was married.

Second Mailu: Nai-ji. I am a 40 years old XYZ (Extremely Young Zoroastrian).

Cowasji: Do you have children?

Another Super-Duper tight slap landed like a tsunami on his face, throwing off his glasses and changing his verticality into horizontality. You see, he fell down with an impact and had to be helped by several people to become vertical again.

He left the function dejected (luckily, he hadn’t given the peramni yet) and went home. His mother fussed over her sunna jevo dikro and admonished him for trying to get married, saying, “If you get married, who will look after me? Forget this lagan-na-dhakhara. First, your wife will make me work like a servant, then as a cook and finally as a baby-sitter. I don’t want to be a children’s ayah in old age. We two are so happy, you and I, why spoil everything?”

Depressed Cowasji took his mother’s advice and gave up the idea of lagan. 

If any reader can introduce Cowasji to an eligible kachchi-kumari girl please do so but neither the editor nor this columnist take any responsibility for the consequences!