The Aunty Antics – Part 3

Hi, all and welcome to the finale of the Aunty Antics. 2 more aunties to go and we’ll be through…

Aunty G, belives very strongly that one should never step out of the house in the nude. Not that anyone of us have done so since the tender age of 2, but she has a very different kind of nudity in mind. Fully clothed attire, in her eyes comprises of 3 layers of foundation, muliple shades of eye shadow, blood red lipstick, bright pink rouge and enough eye-liner to draw a straight line from here to Arugam Bay (and sometimes all the way back again too).

Aunty F decided to join the Christian revival simply to agitate her mother. So after Sunday Service she would rush home to her devout Catholic mother and preach to her. And what sermons they were! You must give me 3000 rupees from the money sent to you from Aussie. Its for the tithe you see. Now I would think that if you’re trying to convert someone, you wouldn’t start with the money you owe. Ah, and how she would holler about cleanliness being next to godliness as she flung her dirty clothes over the balcony to the hall floor, whilst heading to the bedroom…

note from author, still in fear for her life : I love these ladies to high-heaven & I wouldn’t trade them in for the plastic version ever. In fact I’m going to go as far as to say I’m glad I turned out the way I did because of them. Hi-de-ho!

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The Aunty Antics – Part 2

Welcome to another episode of that Aunty Show. Continuing on with the stories of my Aunties and their Antics…

Aunty D has been through a lot in her life. She’s as rich and as comfortable as hell now, but her husband was a “terror” as she put it. Once during a conversation about wife-beating, she sputtered, and spat and made a huge scene about how her husband used to constantly take a knife and cut her up into little pieces – literally – but she is still standing tall. And seems to not even have the marks to show it. Now I know, that she’s had a hard time, but her exaggeration made it sound like all the kings horses and all the kings men had put her together again.

Aunty E. What can I say about Aunty E. Her Sunday morning’s are evident of just about the rest of her days in other ways. She would wake up, stick a toothbrush in her mouth and start sweeping. Just like that, in her flimsy cotton Vaelona nightdress (which left very little to the imagination), with the brush still wedged between her teeth all along. This process went on for hours after which she would bathe for an equal amount of time and then head to the kitchen for her daily plate full of gossip. Now if you’ve never heard a donkey braying you’re truly blessed. You see, Aunty E seemed to find everything funny. And she would never hesitate to bray and bleat and then sound like and engine starting, followed by hysterical shriek. It was always like that. Still is. My goodness, that sound. How did the neighbours ever survive her?

Aunty F was the family dumbo. In the sense that she actually looks like the flying elephant. Her tragic flaw was her inability to tell the truth and not know where to hide her face when it was revealed. Her husband, who happens to be the chairman of his own company he works for only got a thousand rupee bonus. Her daughter was the best at everything from archeology to psychology. It was surprising then that she did none of the above. She doesn’t know of she can afford sugar with her tea anymore, but her 3-storey mansion told us differently. I think the lying was her way of having something miserably interesting to gab about, little did she know that we found it far more entertaining that she did.  

The 3-part mini series is almost over. Tune in for the final episode of Aunty Antics & its thrilling finish!

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