Nephews and Nieces
I have two nieces.
And then there is the head niece.
Together with my nephew, they formed the bunch of terrorists in my
house. And I was their favourite target for their acts of terror.
The years were around the turn of the millennium, when we used to stay
at my hometown. I was a hosteller, and whenever I visited home during my term
break, I used to look forward to being ambushed by them. Typically, in the
evenings, or in the late, lazy afternoons when schools would be over and there
was nothing better to do, they would ambush me and start troubling me with all
types of questions. Most of the questions were one-liners – “why?” The purpose
was never to extract information but to keep asking till one gives up. Surprisingly,
I used to succeed almost a half of the times into forcing them to break the monologue.
My most common technique used to involve tickling them, after which they would
run after me to return the effort in kind, and the verbal terrorism used to
convert to a running frenzy, for they used to get carried away and start
tickling each other as well.
My friend from school sometimes used to come to stay with me during
my term breaks, and he frequently became a target of their pranks as well. Even
now, the antics with “Miku Uncle” form part of their fond memories of
childhood.
The head niece is married, and faces two terrorists at her own house daily. We
all feel that her daughters are true angels while she, like all mothers, feels
that they are terror incarnates, and all her engineering education has failed to provide a suitable solution for dealing with the angels of terror. My other nieces have graduated – one has
started earning by pushing the keyboards of her computer for some multi –
national company based in India (she says she is coding, but my daughter insists that she is actually playing computer games), while the other is studying to
use her skills of argumentatively wearing the other person down to become a
lawyer, and she is getting all her practice at home as well as her closest friends. The
youngest terrorist, my nephew, is struggling with campus placements in his
final years of engineering, and gets his daily dose of scolding from the other
terrorists. People say that the only person that he is scared of is his sister –
the one who was the gang leader of the bunch of terrorists.
“Miku Uncle” is a Government servant who additionally serves his very
beautiful wife (who is also a public servant) and two highly talented and
inquisitive children. The lady still remembers – I never allow her to forget –
how she was pranked into talking to a doted Punjabi who was convinced he was
speaking to his beloved sister – in law. Their children love talking, so “Miku Uncle” has absolutely no respite.
I am a quiet, docile person now. I have used the experience I gained
from handling these terrorists in bringing up my daughters. My daughters, as
also some of their friends, are still scared of my “tickling finger” and run
away laughing whenever I threaten them of the “magic” that my hands can create.
However, I try not to quieten their questions, which are indeed numerous. I used to think that I could satisfy all their queries, but all I have succeeded in doing is to
whet their desire for more questions, while my hairs have started greying an an increasing pace.
I have two more nephews, both born outside the country. I also have three nephews and three nieces on my wife’s side of the family. Together we form a great, if somewhat haphazardly oriented, team.
But then, that is the quintessential part of being a great team.
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