Punjabi Aunty

I work for a technology company. One day, at work, I met this fat Punjabi aunty, like the ones womanning counters in Indian grocery stores. She was decorated with giggly smiles, gaudy salwar kameez, gold jewellery and a pair of white Wal Mart tennis shoes. I wondered what a grocery store clerk was doing in a technology company. Perhaps a caterer? A female security guard? Inter-site shuttle driver? I couldn’t figure out.

I became curiouser and curiouser as I kept seeing her in the office. My curiosity peaked one day when I saw her at a technical review meeting!

Time went by. George Bush was elected President. There was Iraq war. I fell in love with Elizabeth Kuruvilla. My wife found out about my infidelity.

And then one day, I met the above mentioned aunty at Carnegie Mellon. She had come there to attend an MBA info session! She did not look like a college graduate, let alone someone aspiring to do an MBA. I played it cool for a little bit then I went over and casually struck up a conversation with her. Her name was Daljeet kaur , and I was surprised that her English was fluent and impeccable.

We introduced each other and I desperately wanted to impress her with my Carnegie Mellon credentials. I told her I was doing my masters at CMU, and asked where she did her BACHELORS.
“Delhi” – she said
“Delhi Universiy?” I asked
“No, IIT Delhi”
“uh” I almost let out a wild bestial howl. Embarrassed, I excused myself and quickly ran to the bathroom to check if I accidentally shat my pants.

Later at the info session, I came to know that she did her masters in Electrical Engineering from Stanford!

Time went by. George Bush was elected for another team. War continued to be waged in Iraq. Elizabeth Kuruvilla left me for my friend Rassul Pookkutty.

I met Daljeet at our company cafeteria. She smiled and came up to me. I stuttered and asked if she got into CMU.
“Yes, she said. But I chose Sloan instead.”
“MIT Sloan?”
“Yes” she confirmed.

This time I really had to excuse myself.