In the last month or so, I have shared my bench with 6 or 7 grandmotherly auntyjis. Now you cannot share a bench with a grandmotherly auntyji without getting pulled into a conversation. Not even when you are absorbed into your phone while your grandmotherly bench-mate stares at you. You eventually have to chicken out and croak a feeble “Namaste auntyji”.

And then it begins. The Conversation.

Let me rewind here and give you some background first. One day TS asked me what I did during the one hour in the sun. I thought for a while and recalled the first day in the park, when I met Grandmotherly Auntyji #1.

After the “Namaste” and the “Jeete raho puttar” was over, the conversation went something like this:
Grandmotherly Auntyji #1: Beta yahaan rehte ho?
Me: Ji, auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #1: Kaunse floor pe?
Me: 6th pe auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #1: Apna makaan hai?
Me: Oh nahi, auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #1: Toh rent pe ho?
Me: Ji, auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #1: Ham yahaan 2nd floor pe hain. Apna makaan hai, abhi 2 saal pehle khareeda. Pehle Janakpuri mein rehte the. Bete ka ek bangla Pitampura mein bhi hai, par aaj kal toh sabhi log Gurgaon mein rehte hain. Toh humne bhi khareed liya ek.
Me: Ji, Auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #1: Waise bete ka ek makaan sector 25 mein bhi hai. Par yahaan security achi hai, toh yahin rehte hain.
Me: Ji, auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #1: Naukri karte ho ya housewife ho?
Me: Naukri, auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #1: Mera bada beta CA hai. Samsung mein kaam karta hai. Mahine mein 2-3 chakkar foreign ke lag hi jaate hain. Chota US mein settled hai. P&G mein hai.
Me: Acha, Auntiji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #1: Meri badi bahu Mahindra mein kaam karti thi, par phir chod diya. Choti waali Infosys mein hai. Ghar se hi kaam karti hai. Unka bhi yahaan Dilli mein makaan hai. Par abhi US mein khareedne ka soch rahein hain.
Me: Ji Auntyji. Chaliye, main chalti hoon. Ek ghanta ho gaya mujhe yahaan baithe! Bye.

Then I remembered the day I met Grandmotherly Auntyji #2. The conversation went something like this:
Grandmotherly Auntyji #2: Beta yahaan rehte ho?
Me: Ji, auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #2: Kaunse floor pe?
Me: 6th pe auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #2: Apna makaan hai?
…

I further recalled the conversation with Grandmotherly Auntyji #3. It went like this:
Grandmotherly Auntyji #3: Beta yahaan rehte ho?
Me: Ji, auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #3: Kaunse floor pe?
Me: 6th pe auntyji.
Grandmotherly Auntyji #3: Apna makaan hai?
…

Yes, you guessed it, all 6-7 conversations were so similar, it was uncanny. So you see, every time I go downstairs to the park, I have The Conversation with grandmotherly auntyjis. So far, I have gathered property and career information about 6-7 families in the apartment block. Now I am trying to figure out how much this information is worth. Do you think I will be able to quit my job and make millions sitting at home in the park?

No? I thought so too.

Have well meaning people ever shared information with you, information that you don’t see much use for?

Seems like I will have to write on her behalf for some time. Ofcourse, I could write about her too, but based on the following data collected over the last few days, it is going to be rather mundane for you readers.
She’s sleeping
Oh, she’s awake. Come on everybody, lets play with her.
By the time everyone reaches her, she’s asleep.
Oh she’s awake. Come on….
Played in loop, with a lot of poop and peep and feed thrown in.

So I guess regular programming will resume here from now. The new writer will join us as soon as possible. For now, here’s a picture of how she looks like.

Go on, say hello. She’ll smile.