NIGHTIE AUNTIE

Sweat pouring all over him as he undid the rusty lock on the door of the so-called store in a highly humid Monday morning he thought of how wonderful it was to start his week on this note. As usual, he had to cover for his brother who had some other ‘important’ work that day. It wasn't that he hated the job, it was just he hated the people who came there. He silently prayed that his temper wouldn't get in the way of the work.

As he sat down in the 10*10 feet shop, he started his entertainment - observing people. As of late, he started noticing patterns - men mostly came for cigarettes, kids for chocolates and chips, teens pretended to buy chocolates as a cover to buy cigarettes, some pretty girls came for sanitary napkins (they were always hesitant about asking a guy). There was one category which infuriated him so much he never observed what they actually bought - aunties in their nighties with a towel over their chest.

There wasn't just one particular thing, everything about it boiled his blood. According to him, they looked ugly to even be wearing at home, but at home comfort over all else, so why would you wear a nightie at a store. Does that towel conceal the dignity of having worn a nightie outside the home he thought too? You could just pull on a pair of joggers and a t-shirt and walk out of your home he wished. And how the combination of a greasy-haired bun, oily face and a dirty nightie with a dirty towel and a pair of bathroom slippers just didn't add as a clothing anyone sane would dare to wear outside home.

Judgemental was not something he ever described himself as but at that moment he couldn't help the annoyance that came with the realisation. By the time the day was over, he had counted 12 of the greasy bunned nightie clad aunties. It took every ounce of restraint and every last brain cell of his to not throw the products on their face wishing it was a stone (or a boulder) instead.

The last straw came in a different form. You could tell from her face she was different, the pink lipstick faded slightly and her hair was bound in a ponytail. Her face screamed modern. From the neck, the hideosity started. The gross green nightie had a frill around the neck that almost looked like it had faded, shapeless as the weird swirly patterns extended all the way to her leg. As she gracefully moved in her gross green nightie to the counter, his temper was still under check. She asked for a pack of napkins, he handed it to her and then she asked for a cigarette.

"Talk about fucking equality and wear a disgusting nightie everywhere" he mumbled under his breath as he took a cigarette.

Our aunty (or rather a pretty young woman) heard it loud and clear but kept her face passive. As she paid him and walked behind the store lighting her cigarette on the way she couldn't help but think of the weird day she had had. As she dragged the cigarette smoke through those pink lips, her thoughts swirled like the smoke.

If you believe you can be the most miserable one day of your life, for her it was that day. Perfect morning as she picked out her royal blue suit and her skirt to go with a pink silk shirt and a pair of nude heels. She had been a secretary for months but today was one of the only opportunities she would get to fill in for her boss at a huge meeting. She got ready pretty early as she waited for the office car to pull up. Fingers crossed she hoped not to mess up today, because today could mean a salary raise that she had waited for so long.

As the car rushed in the traffic, the driver failed to notice the lights, her car rammed into a bike. No damage to both parties but she had to help the biker up, give him some money to compensate and when she found a taxi to the meeting, she was ten minutes late. Her boss had left her 15 messages and she could do nothing but apologise. The meeting didn’t go well and her boss blamed her tardiness. She sat in the lobby pondering over what could be done to fix the crappy day. Thankfully, she wasn’t kicked out of the job.

The moment that thought crossed her mind, she regretted it. Her landlady sent her a photo, her clothes and her belongings from her room now lay on the floor, like they were thrown away. The message read “I am waiting for you to come take the mess and leave. I shall burn your clothes at midnight if you don’t show up.” She knew the reason for this reaction, her landlady wanted to house her family. She gave her notice but she never found time to find a new house. This drama was also a reaction for forgetting to pay the electricity bill on time. And, maybe just maybe her late work timings too.

The long breath she took barely pacified her heavy heart. As she stared at her reflection at the mirror in the bathroom stall, she looked back at the person who looked tired and done. She needed a shower but she can’t face her landlady right now. She decided to take a shower at the office bathroom. Stripping down to her underwear hanging them on the bathroom door she turned on the shower. As the water flowed her thoughts cleared.

When she turned the shower off, she was mortified. Her clothes disappeared. Wrapping the towel around her body, she sat down on the closet trying to gather her thoughts again. Probably one of the cleaning ladies must have taken it, she thought. She could go out in the towel but it barely covered her derire. As much as she would have preferred that over going naked, the office is not the best place to go out with her ass in the air.

Opening the stall door, she realised there was a way to the cleaning ladies locker room but she had to cross the men’s room for that. She either had to woman up or wait till someone pities her and gives her a few bits of clothing. At least she still had her wallet on her, but she cannot go to a shopping centre clad in a bathing towel in just her underwear. She could call someone she thought a little hopefully. As if on cue, her phone slipped her moist hands on to the wet floor.

She screamed in annoyance. As she picked up her phone, it had cracks like someone just hammered it thoroughly. The screen refused to react to her touch. The ladies room was the only option. She decided to run for it, for really her life and her dignity depended on it. Successfully, she made it and there was no one around. Now the problem was she couldn't try and open the lockers as that would be robbery. Although she felt it would be fine to commit a small crime owing to what she went through that day, she decided against it because that small crime would ruin someone else’s day.

As she looked around trying to find a way out, a hideous thing hanging by the door caught her eye. A gross green nightie, with an equally disgusting pattern running all over it. If it was another instance(in which she had her clothes on), she would have lit it on fire. Why would anyone own such a hideous thing as a nightie and wear it to work of all places?

Stealing a nightie isn’t a sin! Creating a nightie was one.

So slowly slipping into the nightie and her nude heels still intact she walked out of the office into the street. She wasn’t much of a smoker but today she needed a cigarette, maybe some alcohol but first clothes because any more time spent on this hideous clothing she would just go insane. After the cigarette, she walked back to the store and asked if she could make a call ignoring the judgemental eyes of the guy.

A few minutes later a shiny black car stopped in front of the store. A guy dressed in a crisp shirt got out of it waving at her. Finally, seeing her brother calmed her some more. They both bought another cigarette and stood under a tree behind the store and talked. As she narrated what happened that day she couldn’t help but laugh. She had more music to face and had to figure out where to stay the night but she can handle it. She handled wearing a nightie for half a day, everything else seemed easy in comparison.

As she passed the shop to the car, their eyes met, having overheard the conversation his eyes no longer annoyed and hers no longer sad. His smile was sympathetic and hers hopeful.