I had always wondered why I hadn't met a bully in the twenty one years of my life. From what I
had observed in English movies bullying should have been an important part of my life too. I
hadn't experienced it until S or should I mention her with what she should be mentioned with;
MOTI demonstrated it to me. Everyone calls her moti in our house. Trust me in a family with a maximum weight of 58kg
among men (there is only one man!) she should be called Chota Haathi.
Moti not only suffers from severe obesity but the adipose tissue in her body has also squeezed itself right
into the bully nerve cells in her brain, expecially when it comes to our family. We 'turn her on.' Telling my
mom to how old she looks in her non-dyed hair, which of course pisses her off R-E-A-L-L-L
B-A-D, wondering why we don't make new clothes on Eids and stopping me and my sisters in the street to ask why we come home after dark because
universities don't stay open that late are a few of M's weekly tasks.
Moti normally shows up when none of us are home except my mother. The scowl that we receive for
no apparent reason along with constant grumbling about my dad being a miser (which he is SO NOT!) who can't
let his pocket loose are indicators of what has come and gone. I personally feel that the big
crater that Moti leaves behind in my grandfather's old sofa is a good confirmatory test for her
visit.
Well one day she showed up and to her buri kismat moti found me at the door. Inspecting me critically from head to toe
she placed her butt very neatly into the spot where I knew the almost perfect
crater will form. (It makes me cry really. how does she DO that?!) After eying me suspiciously
as I sat on the Divan texting and studying at the same time she rolled her tiny little button-ish
eyes and asked my mother why she didn't do the household chores instead of idling off 'wo bhi
din dihaaray.' It was enough for my mother so she literally scooted off to the store room grabbing
some shawl on the way that she could pretend to iron. She probably thought it will drive moti
away but to her misfortune moti, with great fervour and enthusiasm, peeled her butt off the sofa
and followed my mother.
Here i should mention that the room in which we iron our clothes is a small congested room and
also serves as a bathroom for our cat. The cat who is an excellent fart machine and a pro in excreting
the coolest-smelling shit ever! Hence no guests in that area. We, ourselves are used to it so whatever.
So that day moti managed to step foot in the prohibited zone. she tweaked her nose on sensing something
weird going on in that part of the house. She chatted with my mom until she couldn't hold it in
herself and asked in a hushed tone, 'Asma Baji she semel (smell) kesi aa rahi hai?' My mom took
pauses as she improvised a nice story; maybe a dead mouse or man or something . But i planned to take
moti on a joyride.
'Auntie billi ne potty kee wee hai na yahan bohooot ziada aur hum saaf bhi nahi keraatay! aadat jo ho gayee hai." I shouted
from the drawing room.
The earth trembled as hurried steps of an elephantine creature moved away from 'the zone'.
"Haye Allah, meri tau naak hi sarr gayee hai!!!" She wailed. My mother tried to stop moti for tea but moti didn't love us anymore.
It was the saddest day of my life but I got over it. :D I love you moti. I love you so much. <3>
The world is a funny funny place with lots of funny funny people like moti. I still haven't figured out who a real bully is.
