To Aunt, with love.

So, I am in the kitchen - my sleeves rolled up - kneading the dough – which by the way is my least favourite activity of the day. 

It’s 4 degrees outside – I am super cold and my unruly hair strands are coming in the way but I am afraid not to tuck them back lest I get some flour stuck in my hair. So I am continuing the kneading just like that – even though I am really uncomfortable and pretty irritated – and this is when my mom decides to give me a call. Since both my hands are super occupied I let it ring and decide to call her back as and when I am done with the atta. 

But Mom is not able to comprehend my helpless situation and decides to call me yet again- for the second time.

 Now I know such is the sorry state of things in our dear country that if I let two of her calls go unanswered in a row – SHE WOULD FREAK.

“Hi amma,” I reply in a state of complete surrender, helplessly fumbling with my phone in order to set the speaker mode on.

“What hi,” snaps mom, “say Namaste."

“Oho! Mumma,” I reply irritated, “I really don’t have time for this yaar.”

“What is this yaar? Look at the way you speak...."

“acha, I am sorry, what is it?”, I try cutting our heart to heart short – so that we get to business.

“When do you think you will get married?” surprisingly enough she cuts it really really short
(my mother, ladies and gentlemen.)

“What?”

“Roma aunty was here today.”

Oh-no! Not again – I let out a cry – This can mean only one thing – mom must have had a fresh dose of “societal attyachar” and now it is her turn to pass on the burden on to me – the rightful owner.

Now a thing or two about Roma aunty before I proceed any further – she is the self proclaimed bharat matrimony.com  of our clan and even at the risk of knowing that this post is not going to go down too well with a certain people/cousins whatever I am not going to refrain from saying that she derives some kind of sadistic pleasure watching my parents get uneasy. 

And she does it in a very innocent way too.

“flane di kudi got married,” she’d start sharing her saucy anecdotes even before she steps foot in the house. Knowing fully well, how it is going to affect my parents, especially my mom!

And, my poor mom, falls prey to this every time she visits – which in turn means the oh-so-famous “there-is-a-proper-time-and-age –to-get-married” lecture for me three times a day and 21 times a week.

Dear Roma Aunty,

Please let me be – oh no, let me rephrase- please let my poor parents be! I can take you with both hands tied but they are harmless people who don’t deserve this torture from you. Now, I know you are thinking that you only want my well being and wish eternal bliss for me.
But let’s take care of just my career first and shall I get married I will hold on to your card. But until then go spread joy some place else – not my home.

Your loving niece,

Mwah xoxoxoxo