Knight on a Black Stallion

Were I tall, rich and handsome, I sure would have a lot of funny things to say to pretty women. Liek this:-

“I love you! Marry me!”
“Give me three reasons why.”
“I’ve a tragic history like your favourite fiction hero.”
“Like what?
“Well, I was bullied at school.”
“Give me a better reason!”
“I saved your honour.”
“When?”
That party, when I had just the shade of nail-gloss you wanted?”
“So?”
“I’m a knight. Ain’t I?”
“You don’t have an armour”
“I got insurance.”
“No gleaming sword.”
“I got a plasma-screen.”
“Where’s your black stallion?”
“I got a black limousine.”
“You’re crude.”
“I love you.”
“Go away!”
“Be honest! I am your knight.”
“Er…”
“Done. I’m going to ask your father, and we’re marrying next week. It’s not the same as a black horse, but we can still ride into the sunset in my car.”

Well, I'm not tall, rich or handsome. Dark (as in 'tall, dar and handsome') I am, but so is everyone in India. All I have are these words.

Mumbai, 1 February 2006