Coomi Kaajwali was one of the last match-makers in the Parsi community. She was excellent in fixing up the perfect matches – so much so that not one couple of hers had divorced over the years. In fact, like fairy-tale endings, ‘they all lived happily ever after’.

On a sultry Sunday, after a lunch of chicken dhansak and mutton-cutlets, washed down with chilled beer at Meherbai’s house, everyone sat with Tiramisus, coffees, cup-cakes and chocolate eclairs to discuss Coomi aunty’s secret of perfect match-making.

Coomi Kaajwali: No secret at all. I maintain two alphabetical registers. One for eligible ‘boys’ (ages 30-80) and one for eligible ‘girls’ (ages 40-70), who approach me. Then I study their bio-data and requirements of these ‘doottas’ and ‘doottis’ very carefully and later, introduce like-minded ‘pottas’ and ‘pottis’ at my house, over choi and batasas. I fixed up kanjoos Khurshedji with penny-pinching Pilamai and they are very happily married, saving money and living stingily!

Adeshar Adhar-Card: But Pilamai has inherited a fortune of ten crores from her father.

Khurshedji: So what? Money is to be saved, not spent! My Pila is so thrifty that when her father’s wicket fell, she phoned the newspaper office for his obituary. They said it is 50 rupees per word, so Pila told them to print two words: ‘Father Dead’. They said it should be minimum five words. So, Pila gave them five words: ‘Father dead, wheelchair for sale!’

Coomi Kaajwali: What a lovely couple! Made in Heaven, introduced by me!

Silloo Sten-gun: Coomimai, I’m only sweet 70 and very lonely. I regret making nakhras and rejecting boy after boy. Bahu nakey jeebh lagari. Now, I want to settle down for companionship. Find me a perfect ‘boy’ who wakes up early morning, makes his bed, prepares tea and breakfast for us, clears the room, works sincerely, doesn’t touch daru, eats on time, prays daily and goes to bed early.

Coomi Kaajwali: Such men are found only in Central Jail. But I can also try Yerawada Jail for you. On a more serious note, consider the fact that you are 70, you can settle down with any ghelo-gando, pavli-kum boy since all you crave is companionship.

Alamai Eienstein: Coomamai also fixed up my lagan with Jamshedji Genius. We are both highly intelligent and intellectual. We both never miss a single episode of ‘Kaun Banega Carorepati’ and my Jamsu and I know most answers.

Meherwanji: Coomi is consistently good. She has a sixth sense of pairing the right couple.

Coomi Kaajwali: Mai-kanglo Dorabji-Dolo turned up at my house wearing a sweater in the month of May (from fear of catching a cold). Since he was a pill-popping-hypochondriac, I introduced him to my name-sake, Coomi Combiflam. They have named their children Kaizin, Farzin and Soframycin. Such a lovely family! They enjoy their syrups, balms and pills on a daily basis.

Dorabji Dolo: Coomimai, I always wanted to marry a nurse but my Coomi is the best in taking care of my health problems. She is my Florence Nightingale.

Behli Bookworm: Not fair Coomi aunty, I always wanted to marry an intellectual woman like Aimai Einstein but you gave her away to Jamshedji Genius!

Jamshedji Genius: I saw her first. So she is mine!

Rutty Racing Car: I bless Coomimai everyday for pairing me with the right husband. I rejected Lovji-limousine, Minoo-Mercedes, Fali-Fiat and Adi-Audi on various grounds and found my true love in Jhangoo-Jaguar who takes me for outings every single day, unlike some of my friends who use their cars only once a month.

Coomi Kaajwali: Only last year, three brothers, nick-named, Sando, Pendo and Gendo from Surat approached me for ekdum matching wives. I promptly turned to my ‘rejects’ page and found them three lovely gals, ekdum matching – who were also jokingly called Sendi, Pendi and Gendi. They were so happy with me that they called their three cousins from Navsari with the nick-names – Jaara, Kaara and Paara. They too wanted ekdum-matching wives. Again, I went back to my ‘leftovers’ page in the marriage register and found three assorted but ekdum same to same matching. The girls were also jokingly called Jaari, Kaari and Paari!

Tehmi-Trim-Tarak: Coomi aunty, you never show nice boys to me. My needs are so simple. He should be a pure Parsi, extremely rich, very good looking, most refined and polished. Ekdum Ideal Husband.

Coomi K: Tehmina, you are almost forty. Not a spring-chicken, any more but a Mafco-hen. And by the way, there’s NO such thing as an ideal husband, ideal wife or an ideal marriage. Like any other relationship, you have to work hard to keep your marriage full of love, romance and laughter. Look at Vikaji Vasco-De-Gama. He is so called because he loves to travel. His wife, stay-at-home Shirinbai hated travelling, but gradually adapted to his ways and now they always travel and their Alibaug bungalow is always locked as they have no time for week-ends.

Vikaji-Vasco-De-Gama: Arrey, don’t remind me of my Alibaug bungalow!!  Ghani dukhi story chey. During Covid, we left the bungalow to go and live in our flat at Cusrow Baug but as I was putting the lock, it broke, so I couldn’t lock it. Fearing theft, I put up a huge notice, saying: ‘Covid patient inside bungalow – BEWARE – Its contagious – Do Not enter’. My latest furniture, TV, wife’s jewellery, lots of cash were inside. And guess what? When we went next to open our Alibaug bungalow, some rascal thief had put up a huge Notice alongside saying: ‘Patient shifted to hospital, bungalow cleaned out and sanitized. Take care and always wear mask!’ Only four walls were left. The rascal took away even my moghi-daad-laal-makhmal-ni sapaat.

Coomi K: So sorry to hear this.

Meherwanji: Have you ever declined to match anyone because you felt they were not right for each other?

Coomi K: Of course! Dinshawji diabetes wanted to arrange a meeting with Naju-Mali-nu-Khaju but diabetes and mithai don’t go together, so I did akhara and showed him Alamai Insulin. Both did chee-foo to each other and it never worked out.

Bomi Bevdo: Coomi aunty, fixed my marriage with Roda-Red-Label and we are so happy. We drink ourselves silly at various clubs and pubs until the cab-drivers have to bring us home.

Coomi K: Everyone, hasta-ramta-happily married raho!!

The Mandli: Aamin!!

 

Tata-bye-bye, kissi-kotis and Jamshedi Mubarak!!