I’m in India for a weeklong singles study in Agra city, but my money and passport get stolen in a Mumbai airport after my beer is drugged.

If you are not inclined to feel sorry for me because you probably know how it happened, I understand fully. Yes, for the umpteenth time, I fell for the wiles of a member of the opposite sex. And no, I don’t think I’ll ever learn my lesson. Not if I still cursed with a libido. Nothing turns an educated man into a primitive baboon quite like sex.

My knight in shining armour is an airport worker called Anika, who offers to house me for the night as I await my flight the following day. And once again, you’re right. She’s also a very beautiful woman, and what makes her even more alluring is that she has vowed not to be involved with me sexually.

It turns out that Anika stays at home with her mother, who insists I call her Kashvi, not Mrs Krishna.

“Kashvi is a beautiful name,” I tell her.

“Thank you.” She blushes so hard her cheeks go red. “Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“And such good English, too. I’m from Kenya.”

Anika shakes her head. “Tom, are you hitting on my mother?”

“Oh, no,” I say. “Only complimenting her.”

“Thank you, Tom,” Kashvi says, brushing her daughter aside. “Anika gets jealous whenever I get any attention.”

“It’s only because sometimes she forgets she’s married,” Anika hits back.

Kashvi plants her arms akimbo. “Is that why you won’t get married? You think you won’t, or should I say you shouldn’t, get any more attention?”

“Being married doesn’t automatically make you ugly,” I add.

“Tell her, Tom.”

Anika cocks eyes at me. “So, if I was your wife, you’d be okay with guys flirting with me?”

“I’d be mad if they don’t. It would mean they don’t find you as attractive as I do. Then I’d start second-guessing myself.”

“You two are impossible,” Anika says, walking away and leaving us in the opulent living room. Like the rest of the huge mansion, everything looks as if made of gold.

“I’m a doctor,” Kashvi says, “and so is my husband. What do you do?”

“I’m also a doctor.”

Her eyes bulge with surprise. Then she lowers her voice. “You have no idea what this means to me. To all of us.”

I shake my head. “What?”

“You and Anika. First of all, she never brings any men home, but I guess that’s because none lasts more than a week. Also, those we’ve been lucky enough to meet have been artists and small-time businessmen and such. Men with no futures, you know?”

I smile. “I’m sorry, Kashvi. I think you have the wrong idea. Anika and I are not—”

“I don’t mean to brag,” she cuts me off, “but Anika’s father and I are very well off. We’ve also stashed aside a very healthy dowry for our only daughter. When you two get married—”

“Like I said—”

“—you get a house larger than this one and more money than you can spend in a lifetime. If you are prudent, that is.”

Aghast, I say, “It sounds like you’re bribing me to marry your daughter.”

She shakes her head. “Nothing of the sort, Tom. That’s the tradition here in India. The bride’s family finds her a good husband and pays the dowry.”

“But you don’t know me at all.”

“You’re a doctor. That’s enough for me. Hell! Right now, I’ll marry her to anyone she’s willing to take.”