I, Tehmuras Tehmpton Tarkariwalla (alias T3), being of sound mind [one and only time] and solid body [Dara singh no baap], do not wish to be kept alive indefinitely by artificial means. Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of pinhead politicians who couldn’t pass ninth grade biology if their lives depended on it, or doctors, who can barely treat my pet Bruno, but are interested in simply running up the bills.

If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to ask for at  least one of the following: Char Double fried eeda with crisp [jalela] brown  toast, Kolah no murabbo, Bhida par eedu, Dar-ni-poori, Marghi  na farcha, Ek dajan taajah bomla, Akoori on toast, Fresh  Tadee, Dhanshak anne Kachumbar [tarela kabab sathe], Kolmi no  Patio, Chai with leely Chai & Fudino, Sali-ma-gosh with fresh  chokah ni rotli, Duke ni raspberry, Lagan nu custard, kulfi  from Parsee Dairy Farm, Hafoos Mango, Belgian  Chocolate, Scotch with soda, Patra ni machchi, Kayani ni pastry, Victory  na wafers & Paris Bakery ni butter khari biscuit….

Then it should be presumed that I won’t ever get better. When such a determination is reached, I hereby instruct my appointed person [“BOY” – the kalia who has been my faithful Man-Friday from Billimora] and Soli, my solicitor, to ensure that the attending physicians pull the plug, reel in the tubes, and call it a day.

I have lived a good life, and am looking forward to meet my Maker… Boy should go to the Cama’s at Mumbai Samachar and ask them to print my departure. And don’t forget to inform all the Ghelchodiyas  & Gadheras that I used to drink with at the Parsi Gymkhana otherwise they will curse me all the way back to Behram Baug.

A dinner must be organised at Dotiwalla Baug for my carrom gang with Godiwalla’s catering and whisky from Parson & Co. [the 1st licensed liquor shop in Bombay, license No.1] and call apro Gary Lawyer [who is not a lawyer but a besooro singer] and ask him to sing “Besame Mucho” for me at the dinner. Most of the carrom gang are deaf and don’t have an ear for music.

Boy should continue to look after my Bruno from the money I leave behind in Central Bank nu khatu.

My  Morris Tiger [1949] should be given to Soli, my solicitor and my horse  “Knightsbridge” should be sold to a ghorawalla from Matheran and  not to a ghoragariwalla in Mumbai or a ghorawalla in Mahabaleshwar as I don’t  want the poor animal to gallop on daamar [asphalt] na rasta.

The furniture and fixtures should be given to Pundole’s to auction and the sale proceeds to be donated to the Bai Sakarbai PetitAnimal Hospital.

The Rani no photo should be sent to apro prince Charles, who is now the husband of Kamaal ni Camilia.