I was at an Indian cultural performance and bumped into someone who can at best be described as a pseudo-family friend we meet on an infrequent basis at any one or more of the following: similar cultural performances, Navrathri time, or at a BMD scenario. Definitely not the type you run into at the supermarket aisle, or catch-up over the phone with occasionally, or invite to Sunday lunch, or even send birthday wishes to via Facebook.
So this lady, as only pattu-sari draped, malli-poo adorned, US-son-despatching, info-scouting, privacy-ignoring Tam-bram aunties can in their inimitable manner, reeled off a relentless sequence of questions at an operatic decibel level.
The first part of it goes something like:
How are your parents? Your sister? Your grandmother? Your second cousin who got married last year? Your mama’s brother-in-law who will undergo knee replacement surgery in November? Has your chithi’s brother’s niece passed her board exams? How about your cousin suffering from that dreadful illness – paavam?
Ad continuum.....
I could scarcely get a word in, agape as I was at the apparent functional resilience of her hyperactive larynx. I was quite charmed actually, that she would remember all these people from my immediate and extended family with such a fine degree of intimacy. I could hardly pretend to reciprocate with an equal dose of intimacy, given my utter lack of knowledge of (and interest in) the abundant branches of her own family tree!
My selective-hearing auditory cells were activated by the fourth or fifth question – I forget which. So I nod along pretending to listen but mentally recording the unusual blouse pattern of a stunningly-clad woman standing nearby .....
.....(nod nod nod).....(smile vacantly)..... (nod)
......
Till she paused. Presumably for breath.
......
There was no doubt about it. She had definitely taken a break. The very air between us seemed to slowly regain its lost oxygen levels and restore its ruffled equilibrium.
Until I realised she was looking at me with raised eyebrows (a phenomenon I am not unfamiliar with) and an expectant expression in her eyes.
I quickly realised she was now awaiting answers to her (Questions)n
I started off by giving a general update on the recent goings-on of my parents and sister.
With a quizzical look, she said: ‘Illai ma – avvaluku paarthindirikaala?!’
Which literally means, ‘No dear – are they seeing for her?’.
Now, Tamil not being my first language, I often don’t ‘get’ colloquialisms, double entendres and the like in everyday usage. I am only really comfortable speaking my own version of it at home with my folks.
I ineptly translated her question as ‘Dear – why are you looking at her (while I was busy talking to you)?’.
(In Tamil - avvala paarthindirikiya?!)
I was mortified as I thought she had discovered that I was not really paying attention to her question barrage while in the meantime doing what every respectable fashionista does while in public – check out what the other women are wearing!
I hastily replied saying - ‘No aunty. Wasn’t staring at her. Was listening to you. Just really liked her blouse’.
Take 2:
What she Really meant was - ‘No dear – are they (my relatives) looking (for a prospective groom) for her (some chick in my family whose name I obviously missed due to my selective hearing disorder) ?’
My response, loosely translated based on aunty’s context, could also have meant – ‘No aunty. Based on your advice, they are not groom-hunting for her as she is too big-breasted’.
She looked at me with a strange mixture of horror, contempt and fascination.
By the time I figured out what was going on, my considerably large, high-heeled foot was well and truly ensconced in my mouth. To extricate myself from the increasingly hopeless situation, and to stop myself from choking further, I attempted to stoke her familial fixation by politely asking about her US-despatched son who used to be a childhood mate of mine. She then proceeded to propound his many virtues (this has the makings of another blogpost on trumpet-blowing parents), announced that she was hunting for a suitable bride for him and enquired if I or anyone in my family was ‘looking’. I fled.
In order to avoid such social debacles in future, I have an apt solution for any pseudo-family friends out there who intend embarking on these garrulous (Question)n sessions. Just use this formula:
"How is ‘x’ for all x ∈ {R} ?”
Where
x is the name one was baptised/naam-karanised/otherwise-endowed-with
R is the set of all your living relatives
My simple, no-fuss answer would be: “All my ‘x’es are doing well, thank you!” :p
This way, I can disengage quicker AND my foot can also remain where it should normally be, safely planted on the floor instead of posing an interesting challenge to the laws of aerodynamics.
PS - And, perchance, any ‘x’s are Not doing too well – as life is wont to be at times – I feel fairly certain they would not want their tales of woe miserably dissected for public consumption.
PS again - Geek Alert. On a side note, I am mighty pleased with my little attempt at html coding for greek symbols and subscripts on this blogpost :)
Glossary (so you are not as Lost in Translation as I was):
Navrathri: literally, festival of ‘Nine Nights’ celebrated annually in Sept-Oct
BMD: Birth, Marriage, Death
Pattu-sari: Kanchipuram Silk Sari
Malli-poo: Jasmine flowers plaited tightly together to make a perishable hair ornament
Tam-bram: Tamil Brahmin (the ethnic community I belong to)
Mama: Mother’s brother or mother’s male cousin
Peripa: Father’s elder brother
Chithi: Mother’s younger sister or Father’s younger brother’s wife.
Paavam: Poor Thing
Naam-karan: Hindu naming ceremony held shortly after birth
