Bawi beauties

Like the Femina Miss India contest our anjuman announced a beauty contest for the community. The lady needn’t have "missed” the matrimony-train because this contest was open to all Parsi ladies — whether they were married... or happy.

And so it came to pass that ever since this announcement was made, there was no peace in the Boomla house since Banubai Boomla resolved to enter. Banu read and re-read the contest page and made up her mind to teach a thing or two to those young, run-of-the-mill, thin, skinny, half-starved anorexic clones called contestants who walk as though they have a fractured hip. Their well-rehearsed parrot-like answers also irked her since they all admired Mother Teresa only. Come to think of it, even their answers were clones — they all cared for the welfare and upliftment of underprivileged children, the sick, old people and the poor.

"What hypocrites,” Banu always used to say. "Before winning, they all want to put Mother Teresa out of business but once they win, they grab lakhs of rupees to do silly advertisements or sillier Hindi films and laugh all the way to apri (our) Central Bank.” At least our Banubai really wanted to do something good for our community with her prize money.

She filled in the contest form meticulously... Age 61 years only. Vital statistics "Oh God! I can’t write 40-50-60 on a frame of five-feet-nothing,” said Banu, with a firm determination to go on a strict diet and transform her half-pint butter-ball figure into Barbie Doll. After all, before marriage she was known as the Marilyn Monroe of Balaram Street!

"Bomanji, how do I look?” she asked her bitter half.

"As usual,” replied Bomanji "as though you’re on the war­path.”

"No! I mean how would you rate me on a scale of one to 10? Am I 10 like Bo Derek?”

"Are minus marks allowed?” asked Bomanji.

"I’m serious. I’m entering the Beauty Contest.

"If it’s a Miss Pumpkin contest, you’ll win all the three prizes, first, second and third.”

"Well, I’ve news for you. Things will change in this house from today. We shall live on boiled pumpkin till D-Day, go to the gym and attend yoga, Tai Chi and aerobic classes.”

"We? Why we? I’m not in the contest!”

"Yes! It’s my dream to win if only to put down our neighbors Gooli Gol Gol and Dinu Derki, so answer me quick... how do I look?”

"You want the truth?”

"Yes.”

"You won’t start a fight?”

"No. I can handle it.”

"O.K. You look like the emblem of the Parsi Dairy Farm.”

"You’re calling me a buffalo? A jaari bhés (fat buffalo) or what? Because that’s what your mother and sisters call me.”

"Holy cow! I didn’t say it but yes! Now that you mention it, Maijee seems right in calling you a jaari bhés.”

"A woman is never appreciated by her own husband. Our next-door neighbor Meherwanji Matchstick calls me Cleopatra and I’ll enter this contest if it’s the last thing I do.”

"Don’t be silly!”

"You don’t be silly and insecure. You feel threatened that Meherwanji will carry me off and away into the sunset when I win. Kétlo adékho (how jealous)!”

"Any man who tries to carry you would get hernia.”

"See! Sagan no gathyo bolyo (unable to say anything auspicious)! You never ever encourage me like other husbands. Behind every successful woman there should be a supportive husband. And you? Rariparu (crybaby) always... When I wrote that soft-porn, sizzling sex-novel called Baug Nights, you tore the manuscript. When I took up singing, you bought ear-plugs. When I started Bharat Natyam you sided with the neighbor below just because his ceiling caved in and when I did yoga, you didn’t help me when my legs got entangled and stuck behind my neck.”

That night, Bomanji had to sleep on the sofa as he was locked out of the bedroom. Next morning, he woke up screaming "Eureka” as he thought of a plan to checkmate Banubai.

"Banu, I too am entering the anjuman contest for men.”

"No way,” said the possessive Banu. "I won’t have any lusty woman laying her eyes on you. You’re mine because I saw you first. You know how jealous I am. Bhuli jaa (just forget it).”

"Fine,” said Bomi. "We shall compromise and strike a deal. I won’t if you won’t. No silly contest should come in the way of our beautiful 40-year-old marriage. Tu su kéch (what do you say)?”

"Varoo (okay),” said Banu and brought out the chocolates, biscuits, cakes, jalébis, ice-cream and all the goodies she could eat now since there was no beauty contest and no diet.

Ruby Phiroze Lilaowala is a freelance writer/columnist. A former special correspondent for The Gulf Times and a censorship officer for the government of Qatar, she studied law after graduation and lectures in India and abroad on religion, theosophy and other subjects.