The PunchNama of Relatives - Day 1

A wise man once said that cousins are your first best friends. They know everything about you and you can share anything with them but this holds good only till you grow and get married because everyone is honest to the core during childhood but things change with time. I really don’t know where to start on this topic “Punch-nama of relatives and cousins in India” as it is endless. Punchnama in Hindi means report. Generally it’s a report made at the crime scene :P.  After some recent personal experiences and after hearing to many tales from friends I finally decided to pen down my thoughts. Whenever you attend any party or a wedding in India there is no escape from the nosy relatives, cousins or distant cousins whose names you forget with time. Unless until you are wearing some invisibility cloak or can disappear with a tiny flick of your index finger, they barge in to your comfort zone and make it extremely uncomfortable in a micro-second. I feel many can connect to the below anecdote. I am sure you would have faced the same many a times.

Meena is a pretty girl in the family. Her mom has a couple of brothers and a couple of sisters, her dad has a brother and a sister and too many cousin sisters and brothers. They are so many that she lost count. “Damn. Giving birth to as many as possible was a prestige factor I guess in those days.” Meena always thought to herself. It’s easier to be that kid in turban from kuch kuch hota hai and count stars rather than counting her relatives. All these people occasionally meet only in weddings or any family functions where a crowd bigger than the hum aapke hain kaun clan gather and chit chat. Meena unfortunately decided to attend one such nondescript wedding as it’s been long since she met her relatives. Also her mother insisted that many want to meet her. Meena finally decided she will go, if not for people at least for the magical food spread!

Ten minutes in to the function hall a fat aunty approached her.

Aunty: “Oh. Meenaaaaaaa! It’s been ages. Remember me? I am Visaalaakshi aunty! Oh my god. You are glowing.” Saying so she pulled her cheek.

Even if it was repulsive Meena resisted her urge to slap aunty and smiled.

Aunty: “So what’s cooking lady? You are radiant! Is there any good news in store?” questioned aunty with overloaded enthusiasm.

Meena looked confused and her mother stayed calm.

Meena: “I didn’t get you.”

Then someone called Visaalaakshi and she left. The bell rang and Meena realised that aunty was asking if she got pregnant. She had to face the same question five times by the time the wedding function ended. She was exhausted to reply or to even give a silly smile when ever people asked. Why is every relative after her pregnancy? How will they benefit if she added a branch to the family tree? For sure nobody will remember even if it’s a boy or a girl once the baby is born. Indian mentalities always amuse Meena.

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