The Telugu Kid and The Marwari Aunties

The bell rang at 8 in the morning. A time when you are so deep in sleep, you could feel the mermaids of Mariana Trench making out with you. Adele sometimes shows up rolling. Intentionally or unintentionally, somebody had decided to wake my sleepy ass. My rooster hadn't crowed yet but the cock was up and about (If you know what I mean!). With a grumpy voice, I tried to call out to my mom but there was no response. Needless to say, I had to get up and check the door. With great difficulty I controlled specific parts of my body that are usually very enthusiastic in the morning. I opened the door to a couple of elderly ladies grinning at my groggy face.

"Hi, beta!” one of them exclaimed.
"Hi, Randi!” I replied.

The word 'Randi' is a funny word. While it signifies a respectable invitation in Telugu, it means 'prostitute' in Hindi. Both the ladies being Marwaris, had no idea of the Telugu meaning of the word. And given the state I was in, I didn't have the slightest idea that I just called them a prostitute. Their facial expressions instantly changed. The grin disappeared from their faces. Somehow, I broke the silence and ushered them in. While we waited for my mom to return, we struck up a conversation.

So, here were two elderly ladies small talking the hell out of me and then there was me just managing to keep my eyes open while spurting out a few monosyllabic answers.

Everything was fine until one of them asked me, "When is your next doctor's appointment?” Brought up in a Telugu family, my Telugu instincts kicked in. You never know when your mother tongue starts to feel left out, right?
"Rape Aunty.” I replied.

Now that’s an insensitive thing to say to an elderly woman. I know! But you aren’t much at fault when 'Rape' in Telugu means 'Tomorrow'. Although, it is pronounced with a slight 'u' sound at the end (Repu), which is almost neglected when used in a sentence. It ends up sounding like 'Rape'.

Their half terrified half confused look gave me a slight idea of the awkwardness of the conversation. ‘This kid is talking some real nasty shit to us’ they thought. Well, I’m no mind reader but that’s exactly what they thought. You could tell. But soon one of them felt it right to change the topic and we did.

The conversation continued and somewhere in between I figured out that they were sisters-in-law. While we waited for mom to arrive, I told them about my recent cooking exploits. About how I cracked Kadhai Chicken on the first attempt. One of them got so excited about my Kadhai Chicken story, she noted down the recipe. The topics kept changing but the conversation continued.

This time one of them noticed redness in my eyes. “What happened to your eyes?” she inquired. Wrong time wrong place - my Telugu instincts kicked in again. “Kant lo pusi” I replied.

It was only hours later that I realized Telugu was a much older language than English. Because clearly, had English been there at that time, they definitely would have found a better alternative for ‘kant’ and ‘pusi’. In case you are wondering, ‘Kant lo pusi’ in Telugu means ‘Rheum of the Eyes’. That’s right! Clean your Kant lo Pusi you sleepy ass!

I had no idea the early morning tit-bits of the language I grew up speaking would cause so much harm than good. Anyway, the damage was already done. In the eyes of the Marwari ladies, I was the horniest fucker on the planet trying to dirty talk them. ‘Fuck everything else. We’re leaving right now!’ they must have thought. A rapid good bye and they disappeared.

A few hours later, when the daily dose of caffeine kicked in, I realized what a horrendous blunder I had made. I probably was the most misunderstood person on planet earth, after Anushka Sharma. Embarrassment crept in. I felt like the guy who had just got a ‘Thank you’ in response to ‘I love you’. But anyway, the incident was over and I was a little relieved that I wouldn’t have to see them ever again.

But I was wrong. A couple of days later I received a Whatsapp text from an unknown number claiming to be ‘xyz aunty’ asking for the Kadhai Chicken recipe. Trust me, if you’ve seen a Marwari lady all excited about a chicken recipe, you’ve seen everything in life. Remembering that her sister-in-law (‘Vadina’ in Telugu) had already taken down the recipe, I replied “Ask your vadina”, which means ‘Ask your sister-in-law’. The Swiftkey app, such a useful app that it is, failed to read the last word and I ended up sending “Ask your vagina”.

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