Okay, Aunty


It drives me nuts – being called ‘Aunty’. I wear my 42 quite happily so don’t go there.

I live in a country where everyone is Aunty. Or Uncle. Or Bhaiyya. Or Didi. Apparently, it implies respect.

An acquaintance’s daughter insists on calling me, Aunty. Her mum knows it drives me crazy but she insists too. I’ve suggested she call me ‘Ms Varma’ if ‘Karina’ is too avant-garde. No dice. She wants her daughter to be ‘respectful’.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand what’s respectful about a refusal to respect my preference.

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One thought on “Okay, Aunty

  1. I remember an excessively polite North Indian boy ordering food at Subway outside Technopark. In loud, carefully enunciated English, he called each twentysomething member of staff ‘uncle’.

    I can see how you might find it a bit odd.

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