Don’t call me aunty!

It was a fine Sunday evening, I was with a couple of my friends at Rendezvous, a complete “burger” hangout for the people of our fine capital, having sheesha. I looked to my right and there I saw a couple of women who looked very, very familiar. YES! They were who I thought they were… a couple of aunties my mother knows. I walked over to say hi, but all I could think of was how I could call these women “aunties”. Here were four, incredibly skinny, women complete with their highlights and their skinny jeans and sleeveless tops. Let me describe this kitty party which took place in a joint where you don’t see anyone above the age of 25.

Much less with such furry adorableness… wait what are we talking about again?

The leader of the pack, is a woman around the age of I’d say 45, (I’m guessing here by the age of her children because I’ve been brought up right and know better than to ask a woman her age). Anyhoo, here she was. A middle aged woman with blonde highlights in her hair and wearing a “Break-out ka top”, skinnier than Kareena Kapoor and when she saw me, she greeted me with a  hi and pecked my cheek with those kisses that you don’t actually feel, it’s like they vanish into thin air.

Then there was the woman who must be in her 30s but remains unmarried. She gives off the aura of the complete career woman, who has no time for anything but. A struggling designer, and by struggling I mean she’s from a drop-dead rich family and designs stuff just for the heck of it – there are many in this city which is lovingly nick-named Isloo.

Her hair was made up in a bun with a pencil holding it together, and she wore a white kurta she designed herself, like all the other kurtas you find in shops nowadays. She’s the kind who doesn’t smile even when greeting people and continues smoking those extremely thin cigarettes in even longer filters as she looks you up and down.

The third one is nicknamed fatty, even though she’s not a pound over 40 kilograms. Roughly in her late 40s, her latest obsession is losing weight, and she does so by refusing to eat anything. Only fruits and vegetables, making her look akin those unfortunate starving African kids you see on TV. She’s into power yoga and aerobics and jogs every day and if you want a conversation with her, it’s either about your waist-line or whether you can manage to struggle into those teeny tiny dresses in the outlets of some of the leading designers these days.

And the shrinking chair sizes, let’s not even go there sista!

She should probably have a look at an article we did on dieting fads a while back, you can read that here.

And last, but not least, was a lady who just got divorced and was currently in a state of depression… or so she claimed. She has a little kid of around three who’s extremely spoilt. She downs anti-depressants like no one’s business and carries a professional camera with her all the time, because, as she puts it, she can finally focus on her true calling, “art”.

So here are four women, all dressed up for a night out on the town. Puffing away on sheesha. Tossing around words like awesome, cool, damn, bitch and the f-bomb. They high-five each other and talk about how Out-fitters didn’t come up with cool pre-fall tops. They look a lot younger than their actual ages and carry shiny, sparkling iphones or the latest Samsung Galaxy phones. They won’t speak a word of Urdu mind you, as it’s what they consider beneath them. I have no idea when the married women of Pakistan became like this.

Don’t get me wrong, I love women who take care of themselves even when they get a little older, who have careers and pursue their dreams but I don’t know if I’m the only one who gets a little freaked out that these women look like they’re competing with their teenage and twenty something daughters.

And next I’m going to steal your boyfriend and tweet how fat that skirt makes you look.

They don’t wear anything that isn’t branded. Where did all the homely, motherly ladies go? The ones who cooked you delicious dinner and struggled to understand the functioning of a TV remote? How, and when, did they get replaced by these divas? Women who would say, ‘Bitch, you need to shed a few pounds, that flab makes your ass look big.’

But going back to my original question, what then does one call these ladies…  aunties?

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This article was written by Zara Hassan.

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Categories: The World I Know

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3 Comments on “Don’t call me aunty!”

  1. Cookie
    October 4, 2011 at 3:46 pm #

    This is excellent! Job well done. Exactly what humor should be.

  2. Nousheen
    September 28, 2011 at 11:06 am #

    Thats very well written piece and truly dipicts our women nowadays. Its not about education its about attitude , our above 30 lot have. I simply love it, its short , simple and conveyed the message very well. keep it up.

  3. dr sadeph
    September 28, 2011 at 11:00 am #

    very interesting topic. n very well written.it depicts the real picture of women above thirties nowadays.

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