Gross!

(Day 13 of 112)

I’m still recovering from the shock of it and a little venting here might help speed the whole process.

So this gentleman arrived sometime back with a box of mithai in his hands. I thought I recognised him, but wasn’t sure of it since, if he was who I thought he was, he was a person we met once in a year under extreme duress and even then had only ever seen with a plate in his hand and food in his mouth. 15 secs and 2 sentences later I was sure it was him.

Now my parents weren’t home, and since I’d barely ever spoken 5 sentences to him (the above 2 included), I welcomed him into the living room and ran for my grandmother. Once they were both settled on the couch and there was a general air of discomfort and awkward silence, I sneaked off to my room, hoping the snack I’d just started on was still hot.

30 secs later I hear my grandmother whispering (quite loudly actually), “he’s going”. So I jumped out of my room to watch the aforementioned gentleman struggle to put his shoes on (one of these days I shall write about the Great Indian Pot-Belly and Wearing Shoes). Finally he emerged from somewhere near his knees and on opening the door says, ‘Ok baby, I’m leaving then.”

Whaaa??

Baby?

If it was someone other than my grandmother standing there I could have given this person the benefit of doubt. Unfortunately it wasn’t so. He was addressing me. As Baby. Shudder.

Now, being the understanding person I am, I figured this gentleman must have forgotten my name (it’s also highly possible he never knew my name…). So what? I forget people’s names all the time when I meet them and then I get a vacant look or an urgent phone call. What I don’t get is the urge to address someone as ‘baby’.

I’m a married woman for crying out loud. And even if I wasn’t, I would still be anything but ‘baby’. Annoying woman, loser, nuts, ladaki, fatty, brat, and even psychobabble I can live with.

But ‘Baby’? Gross.