We all know this one person who is totally eccentrically infuriating – sometimes avoidable, but sometimes not – like I walked in home to see Aunty G sitting there. Aunty G or Aunty Gravity, for the unique ability to make the world revolve around her.
“Did you hear – in that storm - a coconut tree fell on my neighbour’s house and smashed their roof.”
“At least, it wasn’t your house, Auntyji.”
“It was MY neighbour. I asked God of all the houses in this place, you could only find one next to me? It will be my house next? What have I done to deserve this?”
I search desperately for some topic where she won’t be the unwilling focus.
Elections ! – aha ! Surely she can’t be the centre of a nationwide phenomenon.
“They are having elections NOW ! Just when I am going to be in my daughter’s house in America that time… What timing ! They always have elections when I can’t vote!”
Subtle hints like telling her that there are greater forces, besides her, fall flat.
“Look, elections are a 5-year-thingie, Aunty, – and you should plan your trip accordingly.”
“What rubbish! My daughter is having a baby,” she lashes out. “And they too are so selfish. They couldn’t have planned that baby better ?– at some time when I was free to go.”
OK, so family planning, national planning and weather planning are definitely not to be undertaken without Aunty G’s prior permission.
She finally heaved herself up to leave, after complaining that the sweets I served were too sweet, with no concern for diabetics like her, and that we live on the 3rd floor, with blinding blindness towards knee pains of arthritic people like her.
“You really shouldn’t take the trouble to come over,” I say. “The steps, the distance… for someone like you.”
“What rubbish!” Aunty G retorts. “I never think of myself.”