First off, are you even an auntie? You sound too young and peppy from your columns to give sage advice. But anyway, I just wanted to ask why people say marriage is so great.
I want to be single and have fun!
Sincerely,
Single and Happy
First off, I am most certainly an auntie. I send my chai back if it’s lukewarm and demand it to be boiled to the point of burning my throat.
And that’s just like marriage—you can keep adjusting it so that it suits your taste. Make it sweet, spicy, or strong, but always piping hot.
Being single? That’s like getting a tepid, room-temperature, oat milk latte that gives you the caffeine kick but no long-term satisfaction.
Why would you want to accept something that does the job but is not memorable?
Once you find your partner, you will always have someone to share a cup of tea with.
And the best part is, you will sit in total silence because both of your mouths will be on fire, and you won’t be able to speak to each other.
That, my dear, is the Indian dream.
If that doesn’t make you want to get married, I don’t know what will.
With boiling hot regards,
Auntie Nama-Slay
Why does everyone always offer me food even when I say I’m not hungry? Then, tell me I’ve gotten fat when I eat it. I don’t get it.
Best,
Overfed and Confused
You sound very hungry from your letter. Please eat something, then everything will make sense again.
But if you need my help, I will explain, line by line.
You ask why everyone offers you food? It’s because food is easier to give out than diamonds, gold bars, or their firstborn child.
You say you aren’t hungry? That implies that you think people are listening when you speak. They aren’t.
They tell you that you’re fat? This is where you learn to do the same thing as them: don’t listen.
It will all become very clear when your tummy is happy and full.
So, eat the food that people offer you and don’t think too much.
When they stop giving you food and tell you that you look great, then you should really worry.
With deep-fried love,
Auntie Nama-Slay
I really want to be an artist, but my parents are telling me that’s not a real job. What do I do?
Thanks,
Not a Doctor
I feel your pain very deeply. My parents also told me that being any type of artist was not a real job.
But look at me now, writing a prestigious column and answering real questions for real people!
If that’s not success, I don’t know what is.
I think you should ignore what your parents say and do whatever makes you happy, as long as they will support you financially for the rest of your life.
That includes, but is not limited to, paying for your phone bill, rent, groceries, art supplies, and the therapy you will need for the emotional damage you are causing them.
Why, once my parents told me that I was so good at clowning around that I should join the circus.
Perhaps that will be my next move.
From one artist to another,
Auntie Nama-Slay