The blurb ob by blob...

My photo
Mother, writer and daydreamer. Also chocoholic and chick-flick lover. But mainly mommy. To two boys, at that! When not escorting my Elder One (EO) to karate class, I'm trying to get in as many cuddles as possible from my Younger One (YO). And when not doing either, I'm hard-at-work trying to maintain a steady relationship with my laptop. And as for the Man I Married (MIM), well, let’s just put it this way – even though we share a bedroom, our most meaningful conversations are held over the cell-phone!

Monday, February 16, 2009

Such is Life,

full of up moments and down. One minute you're floating above the clouds, starry-eyed and all strawberry shortcake. The next, you're free-falling like an ugly bird, shot through the heart and headed straight for the sewers.

The day before. Sweet, oldish lady I was meeting for the first time. "So my dear, which college are you studying in?"
My mental response, "I love you! Can I adopt you as my grandmom?"

Yesterday. Man-friend I was meeting after two months. "Ho-ho! So are we expecting baby number three?"
My mental response, "Miserable vermin, you should talk. You look like you're the living Arnold Schwarzenneger Junior experiment!"
This morning I experienced two more blow-me-up-like-a-balloon-only-to-let-out-the-fart-sounds moments again. I seem to be on a roll...

After dropping my EO off to school, I took my Daddy Dearest to the market for fish hunting and vegetable picking. Yes, I use those words on purpose for that is what the retired Bengali male does...he hunts for the perfect specimen of fish to lovingly hand over to his wedded wife who will, in return, lovingly turn the offering into the famous maacher jhol that the whole of India seems to associate with the Bengali palate. He also spends whole minutes ruminating over the colour, size, firmness and smell of each and every piece of vegetable that he picks up. Wars will start and end, but a retired Bengali man's vegetable choosing will go on for lifetimes.

Besides the point. So, I walked like a good daughter along with him to help him pick and choose and carry, and also to shorten the entire process, if possible. I had a baby waiting for me back home, not to mention a husband who needed to be cajoled out of bed so that he could go out and earn a living. From one side, I heard someone calling out to me to come and inspect his wares..."Oh didi!" Elder sister.
Good, good. Really good. Normally reserved for college going girls and unmarried PYTs. Yes, I felt two inches taller and 20 ks lighter!
A few steps later, another sobji-wallah calls out. "Oh boudi!!" Bhaabi.
Bad, bad. All bad. Usually reserved for fat aunty types with rolls of fat, trying to negotiate their way through the slippery, fish-scale strewn floor, theila in one hand and sari pleats in the other. I felt 2 feet shorter and 20 kgs heavier!

There's no escaping it. Jeans or not; sari or not, I am a fat auntyji. A boudi type!


Mystic Margarita said...

M4 - You are definitely one of most attactive women I've met - you have a very Indian face with beautiful eyes and hair any woman would kill for. You're pretty, smart and exude warmth. And don't mind the sabjiwallahs - they call everyone boudi! The real test comes in the form of the hawkers in Gariahat (per the wise Sue) - I'm sure not one of them will call you boudi! :)

Goofy Mumma said...

Hey, nice post. I am still laughing. Don't bother about these guys, I think you look really pretty and smart. No way a boudi types!! btw, these people called me boudi when I was in school..... imagine that!!

Mama - Mia said...

oh i have been called aunty forever! and then bhabhi post shaadi!

now i really dont care! though losing that fat would be nice. but conisdering i am doing nothing for it, why bother! hehe!

LOVED this post!



Piper .. said...

ha ha! a wonderful, feel-good post! :)Agree with Mystic. The real test is from the hawkers at Gariahat! The miserable vermins, as you put it! :)
And then there are these 40-something wannabes here at US, who make it a point to embarrass people at every weekend gathering. They`re invariably like(cooing to their 3 year olds) "AUNTY ke hello bolo!!" I mean WTF!!! :)

roop said...


maybe u should ignore the 'boudi' comment and focus on the 'didi' one!! :)

havent seen u but i am leaning towards mm's observations. :)

Anonymous said...

Hey lady - after 'seeing' you recently (in pics) I tend to concur with with Goofy Mum.

You are, to repeat myself, quite the bong-bomb!

And there are some people who can't handle all that beauty and grace in others no, so they deliberately resort to mean tactics such as *aunty-ing* and *boudi-ing* Take it in your stride and tell yourself just how attractive you are to be receiving so many such nasty one :)

Monika,Ansh said... cud those insensitive people say that to u. You look every bit the college girl types.
I love your post . :)

Mamma mia! Me a mamma? said...

LOL! You all are sooooooo good for my ego! Now I know what I need to do whenever I feel like some fishing! Thank you 'very muchly!'

But seriously, I am in no illusions about my weight. The doctors and dieticians and my scale have all told/shown me that I am 15 kgs overweight. If not for cosmetic reasons, but for health reasons alone, I need to do some serious shedding!

DeeplyDip said...

lol...this was fun reading...and as you said - beauty lies in the eyes of the are still the same but different people view you differently :)

Iya said...

Hey, reading ur blog for a few weeks but never commented so far... talk about being lazy...
this post is cute and I am sure its not that bad to be called a bhabhi... soon after I got married I had some 10-15 kids screaming bhabhi, now that husband is the eldest didn’t have a choice...

Nikita said...

No matter how confident one is about how one looks, the likes of people calling one aunty/uncle always make one cringe.
I am not even married yet and so many kids selling useless stuff at red-lights call me aunty :-(
I don't even dress or look like an aunty, but I cringe. Yes, I do!