HOW TO REMAIN A BACHELOR FOR LIFE

The Art of Remaining Single
 

A Mulla Nasrudin Story   

By

 

VIKRAM KARVE  

 

 

There is a beautiful and bright young girl who lives in my neighbourhood.

She wants to get married but it seems that she just can’t seem to find anyone suitable matching her "stringent" requirements.

She is surrounded by so many “eligible” boys, colleagues at work, in her friends circle, if she prefers a "love" marriage; and also she has “seen” and “rejected” a large number of boys her parents and well-wishers keep lining up for her, in case she wants to go in for an "arranged" marriage.

None of the boys seems to come up to her perfect standards and high expectations. But one thing is sure - she does want to get married.

 

I wonder whether I should tell her this apocryphal Mulla Nasrudin Teaching story – THE PERFECT WIFE :

 

Mulla Nasrudin was sitting in a tea shop when a friend came excitedly to speak with him.

 

“I am about to get married,” his friend said, “and I am so very excited.”

 

“Congratulations,” Mulla Nasrudin said, nonchalant,  pokerfaced.

 

“Tell me, Nasrudin, have you ever thought of marriage yourself?” the about to get married friend asked Mulla Nasrudin who had remained a chronic bachelor.

 

Nasrudin replied, “Of course I did think of getting married. In my youth, in fact, I very much wanted to get married.”

 

“So, what happened...?” the friend asked curious.

 

“I wanted to find for myself the perfect wife,” Nasrudin said, “so I travelled looking for the perfect wife. I first went to Damascus. There I met a beautiful woman who was gracious, kind, and deeply spiritual, but she had no worldly knowledge."

"Oh, how sad...!" said the friend, " then what did you do...?

"Then I travelled further and went to Isphahan. There I met a woman who was both spiritual and worldly, beautiful in many ways, but her social graces were not of the highest standards.”

 

“What a tragedy...then what did you do...you gave up...?” the friend asked.

 

“No...No...I don't give up so easily...and I very much wanted  to get married...so I kept on searching for the perfect wife and travelled all over the world meeting so many women..." Nasrudin said.

 

“And did you find her...? Tell me, did you finally find the perfect wife...?” the friend asked eagerly.

 

“Yes,” Nasrudin said, “after travelling all over finally I went to Cairo and there after much searching I found her. She was spiritually deep, graceful, and beautiful in every respect, at home in the world and at home in the realms beyond it. I knew I had found the perfect wife.”

 

“Then why did you not marry her...?” the friend asked excitedly.

 

“Alas,” said Nasrudin as he shook his head in dismay, “Unfortunately, she was searching for the perfect husband.”

 

 

Dear Reader, please be so good as to advise me:

Should I tell the beautiful and bright young girl this Mulla Nasrudin story right now...?

Or should I wait till she perfects the art of remaining single...?

 

 

VIKRAM KARVE

 

http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com

 

http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve

vikramkarve@sify.com

MARRIAGE A LA MODE

MARRIAGE A LA MODE

Fiction Short Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE



Dear Reader, I am sure you have heard the saying: Absence makes the heart grow fonder

Now, please read this fiction short story:



At exactly 8 PM her cell-phone rings in her hand. She’s expecting the call – that’s why she’s holding the cell-phone in her hand. She looks at the caller-id, accepts the call, moves the mobile phone near her ear and says, “I love you, darling!”



“I love you, Sugar!” says her husband’s voice from half way around the globe. On his bed beside him, sprawled with arms and legs outstretched like a fallen statue, the woman is still asleep, her breathing untroubled.



It’s a long distance marriage, and the ‘married bachelors’ have been following the same drill for quite some time now – two calls every day at exactly the same time (Eight in the morning she calls him up just before leaving for work and eight in the evening she receives his call from half way across the globe just before he leaves for work. And both of them start their conversation automatically with the words: “I love you, darling! Or, I love you, Sugar!” He’s her ‘darling’ and she’s his ‘Sugar’!)



“How was your day?” the husband asks.



“Hectic. Lot’s of work. Deadlines to meet!” the wife answers. She steals a glance at the handsome young man sitting beside her in the darkened lounge bar.



“It’s terrible here too,” the husband says, “It’s killing – the work. Too much traveling. Sales meets, seminars, conferences. One hotel to another. Living out of a suitcase. I’m feeling exhausted.”



It’s true. The husband is indeed feeling exhausted; a relaxing, satiating kind of exhaustion. He gets up and opens the window and allows the early morning air to cool his body, then turns around and looks at the marvelous body of the woman on his bed. She looks lovelier than ever before, and as he remembers the ferocity of her lovemaking, he feels waves of desire rise within him. Not for a long time has the mere sight of a woman aroused the lion in him to such an extent. He smiles to himself. He feels proud and elated; it was a grand performance. Spontaneous lovemaking at its best; not like the planned and contrived “quality” lovemaking with his wife, full of performance anxiety, each performing for the other’s gratification, putting on an act and both faking pleasure thinking the other would not know.



“Yes, darling. Poor you. I can understand,” the wife says, and sips her potent cocktail. It’s her third. She wonders what it is – the mysterious but deadly intoxicating cocktails her companion is plying her with, and she is feeling gloriously high.



“I’m just waiting for this hectic spell of work to be over so we can meet,” the husband says. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks at the sleeping woman. Mesmerized, marveling. It is difficult to believe that in a few hours from now they would be addressing each other formally again.



“Oh, yes. It’s been three months and I’m dying to meet you. When are we meeting?” the wife asks.



“I’m planning a fantastic vacation. I’ll let you know soon. We’ll go to some exotic place. Just the two of us. Quality Time!” the husband says to his faraway wife and at the same time looks yearningly at the gorgeously sexy woman lying so close to him.



“That’s great! We must spend some Quality Time together,” the wife says to her distant husband while she snuggles close against her strikingly handsome colleague. He presses his knee against hers. She presses hers against his. He moves his hand around her over her soft skin and pulls her gently. She feels an inchoate desire. He gently strokes her hair, and she turns towards him, her mouth partly open as he leans over her. Fuelled by the alcohol in her veins, she can sense the want churning inside her like fire. And as she looks into his eyes, and feels the intensity of his caresses, she can sense her resistance melting.



“I love you, Sugar!” the husband says.



“I love you, darling!” the wife says.



Their lovey-dovey conversation completed, both the long distance spouses disconnect their cell-phones, focus on their present objects of affection, and, with renewed zeal, carry on the passionate amorous activity presently in hand. After all, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.



At the beginning of this story I had quoted a famous saying: Absence makes the heart grow fonder.





Now I am temped to say: Absence makes the heart grow fonder – for someone else.





MARRIAGE A LA MODE

Fiction Short Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE


Copyright © Vikram Karve 2009
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.


http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com


vikramkarve@sify.com