Things that go make you aarrgh

#chatswithpeople #chatswithparents #56

9.30 pm
Dad yawns: I must go to bed.
Me: …seriously? It’s 9.30. Are you 80 or Tamilian?
Dad: when I was younger I was able to stay up all day and all night.
Me: this is obviously way way way before I was born, because you’ve fallen asleep before me even when I was 4. I know because I’d wake you up to complain that you didn’t finish my bedtime story.

Dad: you need to let that go.
Me: never. When have you stayed awake all night?
Dad: when I was an NCC cadet. They put me on 24-hour security detail while at camp.

Me:…..but why? Where was this?
Dad: in a village.
Me: was it a dangerous village? I’m confused.
Dad: no no, it’s part of your training. And the campsite was next to a burial ground.

Me (Miss Super Coward since 1982): gosh. Weren’t you scared?
Dad: it wasn’t a Hindu burial ground.
Me: er. What difference does that make?
Dad: there were no fires.
Me: fire is reassuring. A burial ground has potential zombies. (I’m also Miss Super Zombie Fearer since 1982.)

Dad: no, no. But when I got home and told my grandmother, she made me take a bath.
Me: the world’s water shortage can be traced to Brahmins taking baths for every bloody thing. But I’m super impressed that you weren’t scared. I’d have run away.

Dad:…well.
Me: you didn’t know about zombies then, did you?
Dad: no. also, we used to read these comics.
Me:…oh?
Dad: about Mohini.
Me: the avatar of Shiva?

Dad:…no.
Me (sensing blood) (encouragingly): go on.
Dad: you know? like Mohini.
Me: yes?
Dad: the pichasini? The seduce-y types?

Me: This explains so much about men. Even in a burial ground, you’re not content to let people in peace. Even from a BURIAL GROUND, a hot chick needs to come seduce you.
Dad:……I’ll go to bed now.
Me: I think that would be best.

Namma marriage

#chatswithpeople #overheardinnammametro #55 #chatswithaunties #chatsaboutmarriage

First Telugu Aunty: and does she know any other languages?
Second Telugu Aunty: yes yes she knows (H)indi, Marathi, English and all languages.
Third Aunty nods sagely.

First: so it will be easy for her to adjust in Poona.
Second: oh yes, yes she will adjust very easily.
Third Aunty nods sagely.

First: and does she know how to cook?
Second: all dishes she knows.
Third Aunty doesn’t nod. We now know the girl cannot cook; this is a bald-faced lie.

First: very lucky she is. The boy it seems will go to Hamerica it seems.
Second: yes yes next year.
Third Aunty nods gingerly. Next year is too far.

First: this Trump-u is worst-u. He has made so many rules and regulations. Now it is difficult for our people to go there.
Second: yes yes but this boy has the H1B visa already.
Third Aunty and I look puzzled. He already has a H1B visa? When he’s going only next year?

First returns to important matters: what about masalas? Will she be able to make masalas?
Second: yes she knows but we will write and give it also.
Third Aunty looks straight ahead. She and I know that a joyous life of Taco Bell beckons the young couple.

First asks Third: you must be very happy your daughter is getting married. How much gold will you be giving?
Second: we are going now only to see the size of the suitcases.
Third Aunty starts coughing.

First: is she planning to work there?
Second: she has done. B. Ed. But her father fought with the university head so they are not giving her certificates. I think she can work without that only in Hamerica.
Third Aunty drinks water.

My stop arrives. I try to stop myself from asking Second for hype/presentation lessons and leave, tail between my legs.

Ides of Mother

#chatswithparents #chatswithmother #chatsaboutboys #chatsaboutmovies #throwbackfriday

Mum and I discuss going to see the movie, The Ides of March. I wanted to see it because tense thriller, yada yada and CLOONEY and GOSLING.
Mum was going because opportunity to order daughter around, eat popcorn and because I’d been whining about going alone and maybe get murdered by mysterious assailant.

An hour before we leave home, I suddenly think to check the movie’s certification. Given my family’s propensity to embarrassedly change channels when Disney characters are kissing, I thought it wise to just make sure politics was all we’d be seeing on-screen.

Blast and bugger it all.
Ides is A rated for language. And what I hoped were scenes involving Gosling or Clooney with their clothes off. But obviously Mother could not be taken to it now.
I bounced out to the living room where she was frowning censoriously at soap opera where a husband was patting his wife’s shoulder.

Me: okay, I think we should re-think. This movie is rated A.
Mom: oh. Not A-plus?
Me: mum, an A rating doesn’t refer to how good it is. It’s rated for Adults.
The Mother’s brow wrinkled.
Me: so there might some “scenes” and some bad language. And you’ll just get irritated.
Mom: no, I won’t get irritated. It will just ruin the mood.
Me: (baby Clooney and Gosling? I’m in the mo-wait yuck, this is my MOM.) yeah, so you’ll get irritated.
Mom: no, I won’t get irritated. Just my mood will be ruined.
Me: yeah, meaning you’ll not like it and be irritated.
Mom: you mean like you’re irritating me now?
Me: don’t you mean like I’m ruining your mood?
Mom: sulk.
Me: (no Gosling. no Clooney) is there any chocolate?