Middle Ages

As a Xillennial, I am so well into my 40s that it doesn’t bother me when people call me “uncle.​” To be fair, it didn’t bother me even in my early 30s, but now it is much more common. Recently, a well-built lady (likely a Snabbitt gig worker) stopped me during an evening walk to ask where a particular villa was and if I knew how to look at Google Maps (her temp employer had sent a Google Maps link over WhatsApp). I wondered if I had become an uncle even to people who are themselves aunties, but then realized she was likely only in her early to mid-20s. She was just well-built, so it wasn’t right to assume she was an aunty. I made a note to write about the need for digital literacy for subaltern India if people need to find gig work in the cities. But this is not that writing — we will continue with the uncle stories here.

Sometime in my mid-30s, I realized I was actually old enough to be an uncle (as in, chittappa / chikkappa / chacha ji) to many heroines entering the movie industry. When colleagues gleefully ogle at pictures in the newspapers or share knowing nods when a fresh employee is found in an elevator, I ​would remind them of this fact and puncture their hopes (of whatever). From there on, things have only gotten better (or worse), with many heroines being just a few years older than my daughter (e.g., the lead female actor in the recent blockbuster movie Dhurandhar). Looking at this from the other lens, I am closer in age to the parents of many employees who join my extended team at the workplace than to them.

There are now “retro” trends about Y2K fashion going around as if Y2K was so long ago. But then, I realize how I may have felt about 1974 in Y2K (when I finished undergrad), and it all makes sense. Y2K is indeed “retro.” To me, what Morarji Desai being India’s Prime Minister meant is what Vajpayee being India’s Prime Minister means to a lot of people graduating now. (In case it isn’t clear — it means nothing because it happened so long ago!). As an online meme among millennials goes, even for someone born in 1985, WWII is closer in time to the time they were born than 2026.

Good job by Gemini, no?

I have never indulged in any flirtatious business even when society would have expected me to. For a long time, I was more a Calvin from this strip or Madhavan/Suriya from the early parts of the movies Minnale/Mounam Pesiyadhey. Or from an another angle: been bold enough to indulge in such activities. Romance, Flirting, and in general, the other gender have been too alien to me until I found someone captive. So, that isn’t any concern. But I have always been a quirky, irreverent, humorous, and silly colleague at work (to most people), irrespective of their gender or age. These days, though, I am concerned if acting silly — even in a non-flirty way — will cause me to be seen as a creepy uncle at work, at work (the words appear twice for a reason). Same with the people at other social interactions — like wellbeing counselors at my daughter’s school, early-stage employees at a bank I visit, tenants who live at a place I have left on rent, etc.

This fear has come up even at home with the latest domestic help being in her early 20s and referring to me as “uncle” to my wife. The fear is not about any silly jokes or something. As regular readers of this blog know, I maintain a healthy distance from domestic helps, which caused severe distress to everyone’s productivity during the WFH days of COVID-19. The fear now is just about the fact that she might think I am a creepy uncle with just me walking in when she is working.

For example, earlier today, the aforementioned captive person (aka my wife) was playing a Tamil song from the 1990s on our kitchen Alexa. It is one of those A.R. Rahman songs that has abstract Sangam-era Tamil words. So, naturally, as a self-proclaimed expert of the language, I try to sing-along. In today’s instance, I happily whistled and sang along and walked into the kitchen. Only to be taken aback by the presence of this domestic help lady at the utility. Thankfully, she doesn’t know any Tamil. Or I was afraid that she would think I was being creepy there with that song — it has lyrics that might suggest that. (The lines I was singing, for those who know — Mangai maan vizhi ambugal en maar thulaiththadhenna). IIRC, it was also written by someone who has been accused of being a creep by many singers. Phew!

Hopefully, in a few years from now, I will be a full-blown uncle, and everyone concerned will know I am beyond being creepy, irrespective of any silly antics I indulge in.

Until then, swalpa adjust maadi. Thank you.