*Maryam in phattay puranay ghaleez ganday kapray hunched in front of the laptop*: Acha jee, mama.
1.45678 seconds later
Mom: MONA. Uth jao. *scary glare*
I run upstairs and put on whatever is clean and/or ironed. Nothing can be done about my zombie-like face with dark circles down to my nose. So.
*guests pile in, big smiles all around, smelly tight hugs that make me want to run the hell away*
“BETAAAAAA KAISI HO?”
“Jee, theek hun aunty, thank you. Aap kaisi hain?”
*ignores and goes off to greet my younger sister (Sid)*
“KAISI HO SID BETI?”
*polite smile* “Theek hun, aunty.”
“TUMHARI BEHN KAISI HAI BETA?”
Me: cbnji873ryu0932imnx,m ??!!!!
*Sid struggling to control her laughter* “Wo bhi theek hai.”
“WO KYA KAR RAHI HAI AJ KAL BETAAA?”
Me: I’m standing right here. Mujh se puch lein.
Sid: Jee wo… M.S. kar rahi hai.
“KYA BETA? MSC?”
Me: AUNTY M.PHIL KAR RAI HUN, M.PHIL.
“HAYE ALLAH LARKI, SHADI NAHI KARNI?! ITNA PARH KE SARI UMAR GUZAAR DI HAI, KITNE SAAL KI HO GAYEE HO? BUS KAR DO AB, APNE MAA BAAP KA KHAYAL KARO.”
Me: …
“DOOB MARNAY KA MUQAAM HAI.”
Me: Sahi keh rai hain. 18 saal parh ke zaya ki maa baap ki mehnat. Tch. Kya socha tha meine.
*aunty turns to mom and starts counseling about how munnday won’t marry a girl jiss ke chehray se noor utar jaye*
Me: Maar de mujhe goli. Waqai doob marnay ka muqaam hai.
I’m very socially awkward when it comes to our ‘baraadri’. Well, not socially awkward as such. More like… “badtameez, munh phatt, besharam, loud”.
My mom is the exact opposite. Haha. Its kind of funny when people expect me to be like her and I’m so… not. =P
I do not like aunties -.-
