If someone was to ask me what the most valuable word in India was, I would have to seriously consider the answer Aunty.Aunty is somewhat of a wild card term for most Asians. You are guaranteed it will work wonders if you employ it to refer to a friend’s mum (or your mum’s friends), elderly strangers on the street or potential future mother in laws. It’s perfect for when you cannot for the life of you remember the Aunty’s real name, but you know it will never cause offence, the opposite in fact. Aunty works wonders.
Aunty belongs to an emerging language often referred to as Hinglish - English spiced up with Hindi spoken in an Indian-English accent. The word has been taken form the English language, but is so deeply embedded in Indian culture, and plays such a universal role that it has been adopted as one of India’s own little linguistic gems. Aunty isn’t going anywhere, least of all out of the Indian etiquette.
If you are going to use Aunty in Indian society, there are a few fundamental rules to keep in mind. One of the most important in terms of accuracy is word structure. It’s Rosie Aunty, not Aunty Rosie. This is largely because in Indian languages, the words for Aunty (and there are several accordingly to age in relation to your parents and marital status), proceeds the first name of the Aunty. Confusing I know, but if you want to get the full impact, its wise to use Aunty correctly.
All this Aunty talk has stemmed out of the events of Monday evening when upon arriving at my music teacher’s house, his three year old grandson ran up the stars shouting “Bua’s here!” My name is certainly not Bua. Bua is in fact the Punjabi and Hindi word for Aunty (more specifically your father’s sister). I was certainly not this child's father’s sister.
Whilst my music teacher found his grandson’s reference to me absolutely hilarious, I was not sure whether to laugh or cry. Being called Bua has brought to my attention the fact that I am getting old - at least in the eyes of the under-10s. For the under-10s in Indian society, it’s official – I am now a part of the Bua generation.
When I was growing up, Bua often evoked images of an elderly woman in her pale cream sari, white hair and with a walking stick. Today, if you are a modern Aunty, you might ditch the sari for the Punjabi suit and a pair of Reebok trainers. The odd grey hair may be popping out of my head, but my Bua days are not in full force. I like to think I have quite some time to go before I graduate as a fully bloomed Bua.
Whilst I have the utmost respect for Aunty, it’s going to take some time before I ease into the Bua generation. It has all come as a bit of shock but I will soon be ready to face this challenge head on. Here I was thinking I was still mega cool and down with it, when in reality I have been promoted (or demoted) involuntarily to Bua status.
Well, there is an upside. Being called Aunty in your mid twenties may encapsulate the image of being utterly un-cool, but it also brings with it immense respect and motherly responsibility. Whilst this may seem a little daunting to us first time-aunties, it is this sense of responsibility and duty that renders it one of the most beautiful (albeit slightly uncreative) words that Hinglish has to offer. Therefore with this mind, I embrace my new Aunty status and feel honoured to have been made a member of the exclusive Bua club at such a young age.
