Aunties of the Underworld
What Nonsense #1 : Shotgun Distancing for Corona
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names,characters,businesses,places,events,and incidents are either the products of the author’s observation & imagination or used in a fictitious manner.Any resemblance to actual persons,living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Given the current situation, like many others in Colombo, my husband and I are now officially spending most of our time in our messy nest trying to adapt to the concept of Working from Home. This is a change that we welcome wholeheartedly as we barely get to stay home due to our respective professions as a Tea Taster and an Architect. But among other things, my discoveries in my own house range from the family of squirrels who have moved in to our kitchen premises and who are now throwing nasty glances in our direction, like we moved in after them, to the water mold from an internal leak which resembles an abstract piece of art. However, what peaked our interests was to observe with curiosity the two Aunties who are living on the ground floor of our rented abode. We briefly had the pleasure of their company when we were discussing the arrangement of our tenure and during the move-in phase but due to our busy schedules we have not been giving them much attention except for the daily small talk such as “Hello Aunty”, “Good Evening Aunty”. My husband Shan, the witty one has endearingly named the two old ladies living downstairs as the Aunties of the Underworld after learning that both of them own a Shotgun each and are well versed in shooting from a very young age thanks to their modern thinking Papa. Shan further clarifies that they truly do act and speak like they are the Colombo posh version of the Poolan Devis.
While we were house hunting after our move from London, we were told about this spacious yet homely abode to rent in Nawala by one of our friends who personally knew these Aunties because in Sri Lanka everyone knows everyone. And while Shan was not really enthusiastic about the idea of living with two senior citizens that too two aunties, one meeting and a cuppa over some lemon puffs and some loud cackling laughs was all it took to change his opinions from Apo Nosey Auntyla to Sha Jolly Doublak (doublak , duo in Sinhala Slang). What really sealed the deal was the fact the one of the Aunties ,the elder one named Ingrid (Ingra for short) gave us her best poker face and blatantly told us that the walls are soundproofed and therefore we should not hesitate to carry out our conjugal activities to our fullest capacity and furthermore that both Aunty Ingra and her sister Aunty Sheila is quite deaf and that whatever hanky panky (their words not mine) we get up to will only be heard by any other nosy neighbors not them. We truly found this to be quite considerate of them and amusing that they should advertise their disabilities to secure tenants.
Two Widowers, two sisters whose children and grandchildren were scattered around Colombo and the globe were not much of a hassle as we discovered over the first few months. However they would occasionally scream out for Shan (during a zoom meeting might I add ) like the Anaconda himself visited them from the forest of Amazon for some plain tea only to find out that they wanted his help in switching the camera from selfie mode to back camera mode during a video call with their son. Their necessities were dropped by their grandchildren and they were well taken care off by a nurse and a servant who visits them on a bi-weekly basis. Our busy lives barely allowed us to spend time with each other therefore to carve out time to get to know the Aunties of the underworld was a far-fetched dream until the COVID-19 decided to visit Sri Lanka and forced us to remain within our four walls.
This whole Work from Home concept not only allowed us to NOT WORK because both our professions involved actual visits to the sites and factories over documentation duties but it did allow us to regain some quality time between us and our surroundings. Shan who was brought up in Sri Lanka and having been attended to a prominent leading Buddhist school was comparing life to a When- I -was- a -Kolla (boy in Sinhala) times to the current situation while I who was raised in the Middle East and had less exposure to the ways of this country found a lot of things that was mundane to a dweller of Colombo highly fascinating. But our lives mostly twirled and spiraled around the Aunties below. It is out of sheer guilt of not knowing them for months despite only having a slab between us that I arranged to call them up for some afternoon tea. My fascination with them only doubled after hearing Aunty Ingra quoting a line from one of my favorite books by P.G Wodehouse. After turning the invitation phone call into a full fledged 2 hour conversation about when, why (yes even why we were inviting them over for tea after all this time), & who else will be attending this afternoon tea party ,Aunty Ingra went on to inquire about whether they can turn up in their Caftans or must they get all fancy (her words not mine) with pants and what not. To which I said we only live upstairs so please be as comfortable as you are in your own house which was the truth in terms of the house structures. I am aware that most senior citizens were avid readers but to blurt out a line from P.G.Wodehouse only made me love these aunties more.
“There are moments Jeeves, when one asks oneself “Do Trousers Matter?” a line that was unforgettable by Wodehouse was being recited by Aunty Ingra and I couldn’t stop my excitement over our shared literary choices. After ending that conversation with an extended 10 minutes about both our book collections I ran towards Shan screaming “Aunty Ingra knows Wodehouse and she reads a lot and they are coming over for tea tomorrow afternoon so cancel all your zoom meetings”. Needless to go into the specifics but we had an entertaining evening with them that oscillated from Aunty Sheila feeling like Scheherazade from the Arabian Nights with these corona masks and how she insisted me to show her some belly dancing moves while wearing a corona face mask to more Wodehouse quotes about how the fascination of shooting depends on which end of the gun that you are on. Despite their age they were quite keen on the political situation of the country being a good strict change after that brassier obsessed Sirisoma as per Aunty Ingrid while Aunty Sheila still rooting for the Junior Piyadasa by yelling Ajith 2020 every 20 minutes or so. “Aneh Sheila here, Ajith can’t use simple English to deliver a message, a single word of his sends all the citizens to spend 20 minutes with the dictionary. You just like him because he is the son of Piyadasa and you think he looks like Paul Newman when to me he looks and behaves like Don Sirisena on movies “snapped Aunty Ingra when Aunty Sheila was being a tad bit generous on Ajith’s cause. Aunty Sheila being the feisty younger sibling didn’t exactly hold back her response when she snapped back with “ At least he doesn’t giggle or shrill out of issues like your SadhdhaTissa , and he doesn’t need his brothers to do the job , those SelfPakshe brothers think they can whip out their war victory till the day they die , quite like how you yap about that one time you washed my set of jungis (Slang for underwear/ panties) and kept bringing it up over and over “.
When Shan asked who their preferred president was in the past both of them were like “ Aneh all of them were such self-serving power hungry idiots putha (an endearing term which means son) , quite like one of my son in laws who married up to our family thinking we were just another step to his big city big business dreams noh “ replied Aunty Sheila while Aunty Ingra confirmed it with a distasteful grunt and a nod. Clearly, they had no filter or shame in laying out their dirty linens in front of strangers. I marveled at this quality to be blatantly brutal and wondered if this is a habit that is acquired with old age. Due to these anecdotes that was our only sanity in these boring days we both ended up referring to their opinions on trivial matters and later discussing their wisdom or giggling at their sassy responses. Shan would skip the small talk and dive into their opinions on the current affairs of the country just to get a snarky comments back on Dr Wayidyaratne and his son the BA BA BLACK SHEEP’s arrest (Aunty Ingra’s words not mine) to Minister AluthGomage stirring Parana (old in Sinhala) shit to gain some limelight only to find himself under a potential enquiry from the ICC which might send him to the nearest ICU. Among these daily doses of giggles to cackles was this one incident which stood out like a sore thumb. We four were officially known as a loud bunch as named by one of our more quite, inquisitive and prying neighbors also known as the silent fart Ranjini by Aunty Sheila , apparently the woman in question is as foul as a silent long lasting fart for all she does is collect and distribute other’s Kunukandal (heaps of garbage in Sinhala) . So, the noise pollution created by our constant conversations were not something that is unusual. What is unusual is if one or both the houses in the lot would actually be in pin drop silence, which is why this specific day was different. It was one of those days where me and Shan was busy with our chores and the Aunties of the Underworld were otherwise engaged in whatever it is that they do during the day, when at once we heard a young man screaming for help in the middle of the day near the gate. Naturally I rushed to our balcony to get a better view only to find out a Pick-Me delivery boy in the garden clutching his delivery bag to his chest screaming for help.
“Why the hell are you screaming child” screamed Shan who joined me at the balcony.
“This Achchi (grandmother in Sinhala) is trying to shoot me” was the odd response back.
“Who the bloody hell are you calling an Achchi you little gemba (frog in Sinhala) I am just old enough to be your mother or an Aunty, I will definitely shoot you now after you deliver our lemon puffs” shrilled Aunty Ingra from below our balcony.
Not understanding any of this confusion from our current eye level me and Shan ran down the stairs only to find the WEIRDEST THING WE COULD HAVE STUMBLED ONTO. Let me paint the picture as it was that day, at one end is the poor Pick Me delivery boy shaking in fear clinging to his delivery and on the other end is a sight which my mind could not conjure up even on my most wackiest days , AUNTY INGRA POINTING A SHOTGUN at the Pick Me delivery boy. As soon as the shock wore off, I ran towards the delivery boy while Shan slowly approached Aunty Ingra to retrieve the gun from her.
“What happened Aunty, why do you have your gun pointed at this kolla(boy in Sinhala?” asked Shan as he slowly took the gun away from Aunty Ingra
“Ane no men I wasn’t going to shoot this podi (small in Sinhala) idiot , I was maintaining social distance like they told us to do in the news ,while he dropped my lemon puffs , god knows where these delivery boys have been to and the last thing we want to do is to die from Corona after having survived all this noh” replied Aunty Ingra in the most casual manner that nearly had me choking back my own laughter.
“Yes, but why do you need to bring out a shot gun to do that, this poor man thought you were going to shoot him Aunty “ I tried reasoning with her amidst my giggles.
Just like everything else these Aunties said and did they added the weirdest spices to this situation as well, even though the ingredients were off the radar, it did give out a memorable & interesting taste to the situation when Aunty Sheila backed up her elder sister by explaining the reasoning behind bringing out their shotgun to receive their delivery items. “But Ingra was simply maintaining the 1 meter social distance and well this gun is nearly a meter long , why would she shoot this shaking leaf when we went hunting with our father and husbands back in our hay day , aiyoo this boy started screaming for help the minute he got inside ,and when we have this gun no one would dare come near me & Ingra and our 1 meter social distancing requirement will also be fulfilled noh. We don’t want corona from a delivery boy just because we wanted our Lemon Puffs neh, what a shame that would be, contracted Corona BECAUSE OF A DELIVERY BOY over LEMON PUFFS after surviving the Independence, JVP riots & the War & Sirisoma’s tenure.
