Chilligavva

Sometime during my MA years at Hyderabad, India my classmate Dhanalakshmi and I went to see a telugu movie called “Bava Bava Paneeru”. We landed very early for the movie, and actually got seat numbers 1 & 2, which for me is the rarest of rare events, ever. So we had time to kill and landed at a shop called Iyengar’s bakery opposite the theatre and ordered some baked goodies, wolfed it down and came back.

When we came back, they were letting people into the theatre and we made a mad dash to the balcony. And surprise, we saw two ladies, their kids [both under 2 years] sitting in our seats. I was very keen to experience seat numbers 1&2. So I opened my mouth and out came “I think you are sitting in our seats aunty”.

For the non-british, non-Indian crowd, “Aunty” is how we address any married lady older than you, in India. This is a workaround relationship to ensure that we are not calling her by name, which is VERY RUDE in India.

We got a very angry “LOOK FIRST OF ALL DONT CALL ME AUNTY OKAY! AND CANT YOU SEE WE HAVE SMALL CHILDREN WHO NEED TO GO TO THE TOILETS, AND WE ARE NEAR THE DOOR..”

I had to think quickly on my feet. Even if we insisted, we would be dealing with brats asking us to move, at the instigation of their mums. So we retreated gracefully, and sat next to an older couple who were well into their 70s+ years. I had noticed this couple while we were buying tickets. Anyone from Andhra Pradesh [Movie mad Southern state] know that a movie is enjoyed by all age groups. And a visit to a friday release is a must.

Come interval (Obviously a 3 hour movie had to be split into 2 halves), the theatre lights came on, and the old man next to me asks his wife what she wants, and actually comes back with popcorn, and a soft drink. I was so impressed by the concern and care. Dhana and me were very envious too, and decided then and there that if we could grow old like this with someone, we should consider ourselves very blessed.

Now a few days ago, I saw the picture from my artist scientist friend Pritesh, and my memory floodgates opened up.

Picture courtesy: Pritesh Dagur