Chronicles of ‘The Aunty’ !

The Aunty.

Just the word brought shudders all the way from the nape of my neck to the end of my spine. (Below that I guess, no shudder would find it easy to pass thanks to my well endowed bottom! πŸ˜‰ ). But yes, it was very real. And the horror even more so.

My first remembrance of ‘the aunty’ is when I was in 4th standard. All of a sudden coming back tired from school, opening the door I expected my mom to be standing as usual, ready to take off my burden of a bag. But out of nowhere, someone swooped down on me , crushed the innards out of me with her massive chest square planted on my face and screaming “Oh Sheeja, Is this your son? He is sooooooo adorable and soooooo chubby.. Oh my poochie cutie poooo!” , and trailing her large protruding lips all over my face smacking the bejesus out of me. I was emotionally scarred for the rest of my life. I still remember with horror the nights following, when I screamed and woke up , drenched in sweat, dreaming ‘the aunty’ chasing me to clamp my face with her lips. SHUDDER!

Over the time ‘the aunty’ assumed and conquered her place in the family, especially on my upbringing. She was full of advices, gossips, study techniques and healthy foods. Blech! I remember once on a weekend, mom had to go to the market, and she came upto me and said

“Vinu mone, I’m going out. ‘The aunty’ will take care of you. I’ve told her and she will be coming soon.” Me , who was contently playing the very first sega version of playstation, jumped out of the couch and started begging her to take me out too. Alas, since I was very famous for my hyper active character , my mom said she cant . I started wailing out loud and fell on her feet trying to drag her down with me. Finally my mom said “If you sit here, I’ll get you ‘hobby’ chocolate.” I ought to slap myself, but the young blooming glutton in me , made me shut up, pick up myself and continue playing game. Mom left, ‘the aunty’ came. She came in with her swarthy eyes looking all over the room, picking up few magazines and plunked down on the couch next to me. I just smiled and did not dare to open my mouth. “Don’t you study in your weekends?” You shouldn’t play games like this , as they will ruin your future. Plus you should soon decide on your career and life and be serious!.” “For the love of christ , I’m in fricking 5th standard”, I wanted to scream at her snoopy , loathsome and i-don’t- know-fill-it-up face. But I just smiled and kept mum. I was thinking of the ‘hobby’ chocolate that I was gonna gulp down later and controlled my tongue and its energy. But she wasn’t letting up so easily. After reading through a couple of pages, she then got up, walked to my study table (courtesy my dad, who wanted the whole wide world to know how studious his son is and had placed it right near the main corridor), picked up a couple of note books and was glancing through. I was watching her through the corner of my eyes and was the least concerned. Suddenly a loud “WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT” , knocked the controller out of my hand, and I fell of the couch. She turned to face me with a note-book in hand and was staring as if she had caught me peeping in on her bath! “What is this,Vinu?!” I dropped my eyes down to the book in question, and realised in deathly despair that it was the unit test note-book, and the page was open to the last one in which I had got just 22/50. “What has happened to you!? Have you stopped studying. You’re so distracted these days” , and on top of it she eyed the play station and screamed ” On top of that, you are happily playing games!! ” as if I had just been caught killing a man and eating him! Such was the disgust on her face. I can’t , for the sake of christ, even now get it why on earth was she so damn concerned about a 5th std child’s unit test mark and create such a ruckus. As my luck would have it , mom came just in time to witness this situation. She was lectured and put to drastic shame, by ‘the aunty’ and she left. My mom came over and threw my beloved controller to bits and lead me by my ear to the isolation ward. Oh sorry, I meant my study table. And she shouted, “Unless you get better marks next time, no more games, no more tinkle, and no more chips!!” I mean I could handle the games and tinkle part, but how on earth could she take away my beloved pofok chips , that I devotedly ate every single day in the morning and evening , and all the time in between! 😦 That was the moment when I passionately started hating to the core , ‘the aunty’ and swore to never again meet her.

But , since when god was manufacturing me, he for fun thought, ” Lets put him in such weird and drastic embarrassing situations throughout his life in front of ‘the aunty’, and lets all have a laugh at his expense”. Likewise over the years , I’ve been so humiliated throughout in front of her , in the most weirdest of all situations that mentioning them all here would put a serious dent to whatever’s left of my manly pride. Till now , at times in public functions, ‘the aunty’ still mentions “fondly”, the day when she came to wake me up in the morning and found me to be a bedwetter. Or of the time, when she crashed into my room to find me in a compromising position. Or that one time, when she caught me walking hand in hand with my crush of those times in my neighbourhood. All in all, she has stacked up quite a collection of memories that is ready to be served garama garam with chai or coffee.

Nowadays I am looking over my head all the time, expecting ‘the aunty’ to fly out of somewhere and pull my knickers in a knot again. For now, all is calm. Guess she is busy taking care of her daughters’ kids. I truly, with every part of my heart feel sad and empathetic to those children who were just spawned to be scared the crap out of, by her! I hope they grow up in an environment away from ‘the aunty’, or else, they are just as emotionally raped as myself. And I say this , because I still dreamt of her yesterday, and jumped a mile through my room, landing all sweating and scared. SHUDDER!


Spirit of the Underdog!


There is only an abstract explanation why I have always gone for the underdogs, be it in any channel or medium, be it of any race or colour, be it of any ethnicity or nation. From the time I was a bottle sucking kiddo to even now when I’m facing the daunting quarter life crisis and graduating slowly, but surely to midlife crisis, I wholly and truly, holler for the underdog. What makes me so passionate to see that one person, however improbable and heavily against odds , is something I have been thinking for a long time. Along with this , I am going to mention something that isn’t gonna favour my manliness image. I get tear jerked! There. I said it. Yes, I get teary eyed and my heart palpitates Β on witnessing acts of the underdog overcoming obstacles and emerging triumphant. Let me share with you the nitty gritty’s of it.

I guess I first noticed this peculiar nature of mine, when I was in 4th or 5th standard and was watching my first english movie, ‘Independence Day’ starring my best sci-fi hero ever, Will Smith. I was fascinated by the alien mothership invading the planet, as I knew of then. That was my start of movie addiction that’s lasted all these years till this moment. Also that’s when, I guess, I learnt for the first time , that the hotspot for UFO’s and aliens is America ! I swear to christ that I used to think, how soon could the americans skedaddle to India , if ever , an alien UFO tried attacking India. But now am wiser. No american could bring in the power or arsenal that our Pappu beta and all those parliament hooligans carry in the nook of their political armpits. πŸ˜› So yes, watching ‘Independence Day‘ I held my breath as earth (read America) took a last man standing situation and went in all guns blazing to whoop the aliens motherlode ass! (Excuse my parliamentary language :P) . I remember still, the Pepsi can I was gulping down, froze near my lips and it was drizzling down onto my t-shirt. However , my whole mind and soul was inside the movie ,out there with Will Smith, as he brought down the alien ship and later swaggered in style smoking a cigar! Ahh… I remember that as the precise time, when I knew I was tear jerked. It lasted for about 1 minute, and then I was all normal and back to chomping down the chips and drink, wailing to mom for another pack. πŸ˜‰

Over the period of time, many such instances have occurred . And it’s not even movies that tear jerks the crap out of me majorly. It’s the darn ‘America’s/Britain’s got talent’and its variants, ‘X factor’, dance reality shows and a hell lot of other shows. I am truly amazed and light-hearted seeing the underdogs in all these shows, coming and owning them people. My best moment was the viral Susan Boyle audition. Hell! That was the anti climax to my underdog dreams ever. And to think , it got the best of the ever condescending Simon Cowell. The moment she walked onto the stage, I was praying “God , Let this female just get her act straight and whoop Simon’s ass!”. And by god, the moment she opened her mouth, I clutched my heart literally . Even now I remember that moment seeing Simon’s face, opening in effin’ shock. Ah, the classic moment for a true underdog loyalist! Ever since then, my quest for watching these kind of moments have only increased. I surf for hours, sites like YouTube, Vimeo and DailyMotion , in the quest for underdog videos. Finding them, I relish watching them over and over, and they are forever added into my playlist.

I had once asked by a friend of mine, if probably my so-called passionate belief and support for the underdogs, stems from my own under achieving life. I had nothing to reply, except but a mighty laughter at this so-called, ‘psychoanalysis’. Anyone who has been with me over the period of school and college will know that I’ve been, thanks to god, quite prominent on cultural and other extracurricular activities, winning several regional and national accolades in my time. So that clearly would not be the case. After hours of introspection and peer discussion, I believe that am a passionate believer in the human spirit. This is it and nothing but this. I love the human spirit for compassion, forgiveness, anger, strength, love, indomitable courage in the faces of adversity and above all, the tenacious attitude to keep going, come shit or rain. Sometimes I think, its maybe its my way of dealing with some things in life, that I’ve no hold on and which seems to be slipping away from my grips, however hard may I try. But that’s something now, and not since that fateful day of ‘Independence Day’ πŸ™‚

I truly love and die for the spirit of the underdog and will ever be a passionate believer in man and woman rising against insurmountable odds stacked against them. If not anything, then at least the message they pass on to those people around them, is sufficient for me to embrace them with my heart. That come what may ever be, there is hope as long as are willing to go for it. The true underdog’s hope.