A Day In The Life Of

Dolly Auntie had carefully climbed up the social ladder. Bit by bit, step by step. Carefully and cautiously. She had been careful enough to just get married once. To the Right Man. With the Right Connections, which were Very Carefully exploited every-now-and-then. Dolly Auntie wore expensive saris (in public) and smoked expensive cigars (in private). She had perfectly bleached hair. Blond with brown lowlights. Her sunglasses had found a permanent position on her head.
Dolly Auntie dripped jewelry. She always smelt of Gucci Envy. It had become a trademark scent of sorts, her personal smell. Her hair was always perfectly blow-dried, never a strand out of place and her nails flawlessly manicured. Dolly Auntie was somewhat of a perfectionist. A ‘finicky taskmaster’ is how she liked to view herself. She reveled in things Rightly Done. Dolly Auntie ate caviar and drank sparkling water.
But that’s not of any consequence whatsoever. What however is of consequence is, nothing. Absolutely nothing substantial, nothing at all. Nothing to ponder over and worry about, nothing to excite the grey matter up there. Dolly Auntie’s existence in the world itself was highly interesting. A day in the life of Dolly Auntie could never be dull.

12.00pm. Dolly Auntie yawned luxuriously. The lifestyles of the rich and the famous.
Rule number 1) Never be up before at least 11.00am. Otherwise people might just think you hadn’t been partying all night and aren’t exhausted and in desperate need of sleep.
Rule number 2) Upon waking up, immediately start beautifying yourself. Preferably get oneself manicured and pedicured, if not a blow-dry will suffice.
Rule number 3) Always arrive fashionably late (i.e. two hours later than the said time) for the committee lunch.

4.00pm. Dolly Auntie sipped her tea slowly. Iffat and Pinky had dropped in. They were sitting in Dolly Auntie’s lounge having tea. (Tea of course meant not just tea but a wide assortment of eatables as well. Éclairs, sandwiches, tiny pizzas and small pastries.) And ofcourse only tea would be sipped (“without sugar, please”) because the emaciated, wasted look was in high fashion. All desired to become the next stick insect.

6.00pm. Dolly Auntie was to be found working out in the gym. For afterall, regular visits to the gym had become the new thing. And Dolly Auntie never was one to be left behind.

9.45pm. Dolly Auntie with her husband in tow sat in their car (a Cadillac) and drove off towards Bedian. Bedian had now become passé but the trend continued as no new locale as yet had been discovered.

11.30pm. Dolly Auntie’s heels dug into the manicured grounds at the golf club. The discovery of the new locale! Very Promising indeed. Dolly Auntie, lips pressed into a slight smile milled around the crowd. Must not smile too broadly, she kept reminding herself. Appear haughty and extremely pressed for time.

Such was a typical day in the life of Dolly Auntie. Atleast such was the tale of events being divulged to the tea-time aunties. A little white lie socially pronounced can have lasting consequences. This fact was now firmly embedded in Dolly Auntie’s mind. Yet she continued to weave her web of deceit. Little white lies grew into enormous mutilations of the truth. A simple exaggeration somewhere would turn into a gross overstatement. Dolly Auntie was sitting on a mountain of deception. A reel of falsehood. Once unraveled the spool would unwind till the very end. Dolly Auntie was careful. She had ensured survival until now. So far, so good.