SHREE GANESHAYA NAMAH, I present Bejan Daruwalla, the great Parsi astrologer, Lord Ganesha devotee and gourmet of our times. At 69, he believes he is still ruddy and good-looking, despite the 210 pounds he lugs around on his 5 feet roly-poly frame. The secret of his good health and joie de vivre, he tells me, is the presence of Jupiter in his birthchart. �It is the planet of rambunctious good health and brings out the eater and writer in me,� says Daruwalla waving a fat, juicy jumbo prawn in my face.

Looking at him putting away food like there was no tomorrow, I am amazed to think he once specialised in the 100 metres sprint. And that he actually played hockey and cricket. He laughs boisterously at the memory, his great belly quivering. �Oooooh-ho,� he says beaming widely, �Today my girth matches my mirth! I might not be able to tie my shoe laces, but I am not ashamed to say that I live to eat!

We are having dinner at the Shamiana in Taj Mahal Hotel. He is partial to grilled jumbo prawns. And also roasted lamb and crunchy chicken. �They must all be on the menu,� he had warned me before we met. �Anything else will be a bonus!� Now he is behaving like he has never eaten seafood before. �What prawns! What prawns,� he shouts joyously to F&B Manager Ashrafi Matcheswala. �Bahut badiya hai!� Seeing my empty plate, he chides me sternly, �Start digging!�

Much before astrology, food was Bejan Daruwalla�s big passion. He comes from a weaver�s family in Ahmedabad. His father was the highest salaried weaver in the country and controlled seven mills in ahmedabad. "That's 7,000 people working under him, you realise? We used to receive food food from all of them. From every imaginable community.

What food! What food! Naturally, I had a wide choice. The fires in my belly were stoked even then! Aaah-ha, the Gujarati undhiyu! Better than any vegetarian goulash in the world. And what about Bhatiyar Gulley in Ahmedabad! The Muslim food there, the haleem! I tell you, next to a beautiful woman, give me haleem any day!

He is convinced that food and the zodiac signs go together. He slaps his forehead in astonishment when I ask him if this is true. �Arre baba,� Daruwalla snaps irritably, �they are a combination, they are a union, they are handcuffed, coupled together. To me, food is life. To astrology, food, like gems and pujas, is most important. Yes! Yes! Yes! We astrologers genuinely advise what to eat, what not to eat, when to fast...

What do you think Makar Sankranti in January is! What? What? What? It is the Sun entering the sign Capricorn. And Capricorn is the sign of Saturn. If Saturn is happy, it starts rewarding you for the good actions or karma that you have done. That is why Hindus eat til ka ladoos on Makar Sankranti. They eat food! Why? To make Saturn happy.

He, himself, eats everything under the Sun, Moon and Saturn. Pleased at my interest in his appetite, he rattles off his breakfast, lunch and dinner menus, ordering me to take them down carefully. �Breakfast is scrambled eggs on toast, and coffee. Then I have tea with a little Nescafe to remind me of my American days.

How many eggs? Damn it, why should I tell you! Now lunch! It is heavy. No rice, but pulao. And chapatis. I love Goan fish curry. Arre baap re! Hot, hot, hot, with rice. And Goan sorpatels and vindaloos. I close my eyes, then lagao! Then I resolve never to eat again! Sometimes I have the Parsi patra ni macchi.

Or dabba gosht from Delhi Darbar. My God! I would go far for a dish of dabba gosht! I would murder! Don�t give me a supari to kill someone, offer me terrific dabba gosht! I�m half kidding, half serious, beta. And dinner... it is another hearty meal. Same like lunch. I must belch half through the night! But the discomfort is worth it.

He is back to tackling the designer gourmet food that Executive Chef Hemant Oberoi has put out for us. �I am a Cancerian, and among the great eaters of the zodiac is the sign Cancer,� he says clattering the cutlery.

Taurus, Cancer, surprisingly Capricorn, and Scorpio are all big gourmets. The No. 1 spot would be a toss-up between them. But there is also Leo, a rank outsider in this race. Who are the great drinkers? I don�t know. But of all the signs, alcohol could prove fatal to Libra. All Librans should rule it out!

I ask him if he drinks, because during our dinner, he has been guzzling fresh mango juice in great quantities and turning down the Taj�s exclusive range of French house wines. �That is the best or worst part,� says Daruwalla with a wicked chuckle.

With a name like Daruwalla, I have an open license to drink. My forefathers must have been bootleggers! But I have never felt the urge. Smoking, yes! I smoked continuously for 35 years and lost 25 per cent of my lung�s capacities. What did I smoke? Rascal! You think I smoked cigars!

No, I smoked beedis! Now I have to take that asthalin pump to breathe! I wish I had drank instead of smoked. But I have tasted everything. This Daruwalla has tasted everything! You can write that! Whisky, rum, vodka, bloody marys, wines. Sometimes I take a little Bailey�s Irish Cream at night. It is like a soup, very rich, heavy and creamy! Parsis and Christians drink wine as a sacrament, you know? Sala, jaanta hai ki nahi jaanta hai!

By now, the entire restaurant has lost interest in the food and conversation at their own tables and is hanging onto what spills over from ours. Bejan Daruwalla loves an audience. He peers shortsightedly around and beckons restaurant manger Romil Ratra to his side.

You have done well,� he tells the embarrassed man, �and for that, you deserve a card!� With great ceremony he hands over his visiting card. It is time to leave. And I ask him as he places his pudgy hands on the table and heaves himself out of the chair, whether all his life he has been eating out of restaurants or does he sometime cook for himself too?

�Cook,� says Daruwalla as if stung by the idea. �Yes, I can. Eggs, yes. I can put something in the oven. I�m not hopeless. I can fry lamb chops. Heat readymade food packets in a pan, do this, something like that, add that sauce... what�s it�s name, something beginning with �W�... Worcestershire! Yes, that�s it! Little bit karta hai!

As he shuffles out, there are people who come over to shake his hand, touch him, and get his autograph. Some tell him they love his astrology show on television. Others, more daring than the rest, and perhaps awe-struck at seeing the great astrologer from close, dive for his feet. Bejan Daruwalla looks to see if I am noticing his great fan following.

But I am more interested in his footwear. Since he cannot do up laces, he wears soft, leather slip-ons. I tell him he looks like a smuggler, not a daruwalla. �Shree Ganeshaya Namah!� he says in a huff, pretending to be shocked.