Madhur aunty. No that's not her real name. Actually, I don't even know her real name. That's what we called her. Wife of Madhur uncle, Madhur aunty. Wonder why my mom never corrected us on the right addressing to her. Maybe coz their last name was too long. I don't even remember what my mom addressed her.

Guess all this was immaterial. Coz we all met her just once. She was wife of one of my dad's best friends, who we met or saw pretty much everyday. And yet, we met her just once. All of us.

He was a recluse. Madhur Uncle. He never attended any social function. He confided to me one day that he doesn't do so coz he was very unlucky. He brought bad luck to any wedding venue/event that he went to, so he stopped going. He was also a miser, although he resented when anyone called him that. He never owned a car. Always traveled by auto rickshaw or on foot. I don't think he owned more than 40 pieces of clothing in the 20-30 years that I saw him. Thinking back, now that we all are better aware of this, he was an undiagnosed and untreated bipolar patient.

But he was a natural athlete. Even at age of 60, he would make it hard for me to beat him in Table Tennis (ping pong). He was a genius too, possessed a sharper brain and memory than anyone we knew. But he never worked. His dad was super rich. So Madhur Uncle never had to work. Lots of properties to take care of that generated him a decent income. He himself had genius ideas regarding real estate, but nothing that he could execute properly or completely. He had excellent read of the stock market, but he rarely invested. Most of his evenings passed in The Village, playing bridge, and that's how dad and he met and later became friends and bridge partners.

His sons possessed much more entrepreneurship. As soon as they came off age, they forced him to give them their rightful properties and businesses (or inherited directly from their grandfather), and both of them independently thrived, making even more than their grandfather. We also heard his wife lived with the sons too later in life, while Madhur uncle lived alone. In other words, they all had written off Madhur uncle. Guess everyone had written off Madhur uncle.

Everyone but my dad. Dad is the kind who never gives up on people, specially when he recognizes their talent. He would be sad whenever Madhur uncle receded into depression and stopped coming to The Village. But whenever he was on, he would be dad's partner without fail. Dad would also do his best to get him out of his deeper/darker phases. It was hard, but dad never gave up, still hasn't.

One such occasion came one summer when I was about 9 or 10 years old. Dad and Madhur uncle had qualified for national bridge championships in Kodaikanal that summer. Many times they traveled by themselves for bridge. But since this was summer and to a hill station, they decided to make it a family vacation. We were all very excited.

But one problem. Madhur uncle decided to back out. He was hit by one of the biggest depressions of his life. For months now. Dad was worried about him. He hoped that change of scene would help, that too while playing bridge, something that he loved. So he pushed him to come along.

Wasn't that easy. Dad would go visit him for days, trying to convince him, before he agreed reluctantly. His mood was not the only issue. Who would take care of him? He would hardly leave the bed those days. Madhur aunty was sought. Remember now, they were estranged, even though they lived in the same house. She hesitated. But she was given assurance that she could visit Tirupati and Rameshwaram if she came along. Religious as ever, she agreed.

And thus began our two-day train journey to [somewhere in AP]. Madhur aunty was STOCKED. Among all the travelers in our group, if anyone came prepared, it was Madhur aunty. Any salty snack, any pickle, you name it, she had it. Oh, and loads of sweets too.

I had never seen someone like her before. Guess she was little younger than my mom. I have a very vague memory of how she looked, as she didn't let us take any picture of her the entire trip. But I remember she was pretty slim, and well maintained. No hair out of place, no flab anywhere. She must have been in her mid 40s then, and she looked pretty pleasant, even though she wasn't exactly pretty. One of my memories and observations is of seeing her draping saris every morning in her hotel room and getting ready. She never put on any makeup, except lipstick (which my mom didn't). She was fully color coordinated. If she wore a red sari, her blouse and petticoats were exactly same shade of red. Sometimes in case of dark colors, her bra would be dyed in same colors too. Her footwear and purses matched. Even her hair clips. And tasteful jewelry, which she varied based on her outfits of course. Even though my mom also dressed pretty professionally in pretty saris, I don't think even she gave so much attention to details, and didn't change her purse/shoes/jewelry for daily purposes.

Madhur aunty was full of life, and talkative. She and my mom didn't have any old friendship, and there was no common ground between the two. Yet she took active interest and participation in everything, and the two struck a comfortable and good humored companionship, which was needed for the travel. She was similarly friendly with us kids. Would let me enter her room and bug her as much as I wanted. Like I said before, I would love to watch her getting ready. She would let me look around at her stuff, and also would answer my endless questions enthusiastically.

That was quite opposite of Madhur uncle that trip (he was pretty friendly other times). Entire train ride, he just slept on his bister-bandh. Even if we waited at stations for connecting trains, dad or aunty would spread out his 'bed' and Madhur uncle just laid there. If the trains came, it would be a task to make him get up and walk speedily enough to get on the train. We almost missed a couple of trains but we all managed it somehow. Madhur aunty, on the other hand, seemed pretty unfazed by all this, even though she helped. She had quickly become a part of the group, and didn't act as just his wife and a stranger to us. Her attitude then didn't seem at all odd to the kid-me then. But now that I think back, I find it strange and commendable at the same time. This was a woman in a decidedly bad marriage. Her husband was not a regular bread winner. She didn't even live with him later in life, opting to live with her sons. But all this didn't strike me as odd then, as I had seen only happy Indian couples/people until then. She looked pretty content with life. Yes, she did talk about Madhur uncle with my mom, but all of it was done very matter-of-factly. No self pity or brooding. As if she was yet another spectator in his life.

We first covered a few spots like Tirumalai and Tirupati. Saw some very scenic spots along our way to kodaikanal. By this time, Madhur uncle recuperated enough to be able to go out and play. The rest of us would do local sightseeing, or just hang out at the club where they played. In the middle of it, just us women and kids went to Rameshwaram. Was a tough journey for us, with all the last minute reservations everywhere, but both the women managed it pretty well all by themselves. The trip was beautiful.

We also got to see another side of Madhur aunty. The overly religious one. I forget if it was at Rameshwaram or some other temple, but there was a little water body there where people would go to take a dip. While the rest of us just went down the stairs and dipped parts of finger nails in that water, it was a revelation to see Madhur aunty go in that water, which wasn't that clean and was fairly crowded with all sorts of people, and take god knows how many dips in it. She held her nose, and kept at it. I still remember that scene well. I was partly awed and partly scared seeing her wet face, eyes closed, emerge from water and go back in, probably more than a dozen times.

I don't think I had seen so much life, devotion, and dedication in any person before Madhur aunty. Everything she did followed a certain rule and a custom. Right from her preparedness for the journey, her respect for my mom and friendship with her, deep sense of duty and devotion, even small things like handling a tray of tea and mixing it for us. Everything was done with full rigor, completion, and success. Even if she played with me in the playground, it was with full excitement. In other words, she was perfect. If she had marriage issues, I sensed nothing of it as a kid. Maybe that's how marriages were that time in India. Expect the least, do your duties.

We came into Kodaikanal carrying one sick person in bed, and we left with another sick person carried over. That was me. I had an accident and fractured my legs. The trip was also cut short 2 days later, as dad and Madhur uncle got out of the championships in the final rounds, and we came back somehow taking all sorts of routes and means of travels, skipping the last planned shopping stop in Madras.

Madhur aunty gave us a glimpse of weird side of Madhur uncle. She said uncle was very upset about my accident, and even asked her accusingly if she pushed me off the hill. We all laughed it off. She looked so innocent when telling us this laughingly. I am pretty sure Madhur uncle blamed my accident on his bad-luck-factor too. He never traveled with another family again.

I was too much in pain to remember the rest of the journey. I think we parted with them in Madras, when we came back on the next train, while they stayed back a little for some sari shopping. We never met Madhur aunty again. But we collectively remembered her often. Those 10 days we spent together were enough to cast a lasting impression on us. Later, when my brother made new friends in college, he heard that she had had a long term affair with another uncle from their community. Came as a shock. That was quite a scandal for a seemingly religious and conservative woman of those times, who played perfectly by the rules book. But mom took the news understandingly. Told us how would a woman, having an eccentric husband who was never really around, live alone without a sympathetic company. She summarized it with, 'everyone has a right to find their own happiness, and Madhur aunty found hers'. While at that time, I brushed it off as yet another scandal, and our town had quite a few, I thought about Madhur aunty often. For the most part of my life, that's all I remembered about her, a cheating scandalous wife.

I think I understand her better now. As I meet more people and progress through life, all of it makes sense to me. All the missing pieces of the puzzle fall in place now. Her love for living well, her desire for making herself look pretty when she had no relationship with her husband, her lack of remorse for herself, having no bitterness towards her husband, who was a good man, but who had not given her any happiness. In spite of her conservative upbringing, and in spite of so many wrongs in her life, she had found a way to make it right for her and everyone around her, and ultimately be content, secure, and happy. I am convinced now, Madhur aunty was perfect indeed.

Natalia Romanova wrote:


Madhur aunty gave us a glimpse of weird side of Madhur uncle. She said uncle was very upset about my accident, and even asked her accusingly if she pushed me off the hill. We all laughed it off. She looked so innocent when telling us this laughingly. I am pretty sure Madhur uncle blamed my accident on his bad-luck-factor too. He never traveled with another family again.

I was too much in pain to remember the rest of the journey. I think we parted with them in Madras, when we came back on the next train, while they stayed back a little for some sari shopping. We never met Madhur aunty again. But we collectively remembered her often. Those 10 days we spent together were enough to cast a lasting impression on us. Later, when my brother made new friends in college, he heard that she had had a long term affair with another uncle from their community. Came as a shock. That was quite a scandal for a seemingly religious and conservative woman of those times, who played perfectly by the rules book. But mom took the news understandingly. ......

>>>Well, did she? There is evidently more to madur aunty than meets the eye, what with her matching bras and scandalous affairs. Poor madhur uncle!

P.S. At first, upon reading the title I thought this was about Ms. Dixit.

P.P.S. I need to get out of this uncling business. I don't even know poor Madhur and he has become my uncle in the space of a few minutes

Kris wrote:

>>>Well, did she? There is evidently more to madur aunty than meets the eye

LOL. you bet. if it was Maria, she would call her colorful and interesting.

Speaking of other madhuri aunty i saw her on an india tv program judging some celebrity dance couples. Even nearing 40 she sparkled even among young glamorous tv actress.

Natalia Romanova wrote:Later, when my brother made new friends in college, he heard that she had had a long term affair with another uncle from their community. Came as a shock. That was quite a scandal for a seemingly religious and conservative woman of those times, who played perfectly by the rules book. But mom took the news understandingly. Told us how would a woman, having an eccentric husband who was never really around, live alone without a sympathetic company. She summarized it with, 'everyone has a right to find their own happiness, and Madhur aunty found hers'.

Nice story. Reading your descriptions of her calm toleration of her husband's illness and in particular, her hyper-religiosity, I told myself that she's surely carrying on with someone. And lo, there it was.

PS: Your mom comes across as one really sensible and pragmatic lady.

truthbetold wrote:Speaking of other madhuri aunty i saw her on an india tv program judging some celebrity dance couples. Even nearing 40 she sparkled even among young glamorous tv actress.

Eh? Am I hearing this right? From the same near-40yr old fella who used to bristle at being called an unkil??

Yep, Maria would call her that..and finds some Mrs. Madhurs' more intriguing than others! (Good story telling Tracy!)

I thought it was something about Madhuri Dixit too..when I clicked on this thread..I like her..vibrant and charming.

Speaking of vibrant, charming and Aunties..the cute and talented actress Revathi is playing the role do "Molly Aunty" in the Malayalam movie "Molly Aunty Rocks", which is getting a lot of buzz..(I guess the "Aunty" is to get some Indian nephews and nieces excited, disgusted make them feel younger..have mixed feelings- whatever!)..looks like she will be an older woman NRI who will be in an "interesting" relationship with an younger man..not sure if it's like Mrs. Robinson in "The Graduate"or knowing Indian movies..it will be a tease..the semi-platonic (!) kind:)

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/entertainment/regional/malayalam/news-and-interviews/Revathy-to-rock-as-Molly-Aunty/articleshow/13777577.cms

Thanks MD and Maria!

was madhur aunty brahmin?

Propagandhi711 wrote:was madhur aunty brahmin?

No. Why? Since when did brahmins become super rich anyway.

Natalia Romanova wrote:

Propagandhi711 wrote:was madhur aunty brahmin?

No. Why? Since when did brahmins become super rich anyway.

didnt read the part about rich. just super conservative, religious, color co-ordinated bras and horny. there are rich brahmins, arent they?

sorry, forgot ==>

Propagandhi711 wrote:

Natalia Romanova wrote:

Propagandhi711 wrote:was madhur aunty brahmin?

No. Why? Since when did brahmins become super rich anyway.

didnt read the part about rich. just super conservative, religious, color co-ordinated bras and horny. there are rich brahmins, arent they?

lol, that's quite some stereotyping. wasn't aware of it at all, hence it seems incorrect.

Natalia Romanova wrote:

Propagandhi711 wrote:

Natalia Romanova wrote:

Propagandhi711 wrote:was madhur aunty brahmin?

No. Why? Since when did brahmins become super rich anyway.

didnt read the part about rich. just super conservative, religious, color co-ordinated bras and horny. there are rich brahmins, arent they?

lol, that's quite some stereotyping. wasn't aware of it at all, hence it seems incorrect.

==> I wasn't stereotyping. I was merely regurgitating (phlegmy, correct this word and it's usage) what I read in your post.

==> I thought we just collected disjointed observations on certain group and put it together as essential attributes for that group, past, present and future?

==> I once knew a fellow that failed chemistry and social studies portion of IIT entrance but he was brilliant. He went to another good school in US and is now working in Kmart. I forget my original point but wanted to end with an anecdote.

lollu

wow, very nice. you write well, i was just drawn to it and i read the whole thing. i liked it.

i can't help wonder, what bone did you fracture?

thanks PN. Tibia Fibula in one leg. Crushed heel in another.

oh, thanks. the suspense was killing me.

Step 1. Go to www.amazon.com and read about self-publishing; tools, guidelines, the works.
Step 2. Find an editor that can fix without really 'fixing' (as in not removing your 'voice')
Step 3. Pour your heart out about every single anecdote you remember, lessons you think you learned, rumors, innuendos and plain old gossip into a fine digital pulp file(s)
Brand it with a Savita Bhabi-for-women-and-men image.
Step 4. Publish, and as cha-ching rings through your headphones, smile broadly on your way to the bank, dunking that lil unemployment claim check into the trashcan on a walk-by.

I read the whole thing too. Nice story, narrated well. I have more to say but don't wish to do so on a public forum.