(She softens, just a little.)
Now finish this chai. It’s getting cold. And next Sunday, bring that boy over. I’ll make gulab jamun . If he doesn’t like them, he’s useless – throw him out. Theek hai? indian aunt
(She leans in, eyes glittering.)
So you want to be a painter? A poet? You want to love that boy from the other caste? You want to quit your safe bank job and open a dabba service? Don’t ask your parents first. Ask me. Because I will tell you the truth: The world will crush you if you let it. But you know what crushes faster? Regret. (She softens, just a little
(She settles back, suddenly businesslike.) indian aunt