A couple of months back, I was asked, or rather coaxed, much to my consternation, to say something nice and remarkable about one of my distant aunt, who was flying back to U.S. The occasion was a testimonial dinner. Or so it seemed to me, as my mother, knowing my impulsive streak, had issued an ultimatum to me, well in advance, that I was expected to say something good, that I should remember that it is not necessary to be honest all the time, that I should at least try giving the sweeter version of truth. As far as I was concerned, my poor mother was hoping for a miracle. My mother knew that I had given this U.S. flying aunt a nickname “Pompous Pony”. She was pompous, to say the least, and she walked like a pony, the one that you ride at Matheran – swift, jumpy steps. 😉 know you guys might be assuming what I am trying to lead you to. Well this testimonial dinner proved to be my first social disaster; for I just couldn’t play the part, just couldn’t be phony and melodramatic, just couldn’t manage to lie with a straight face, much to my mother’s indignation. Though secretly I felt I did a great service to my mom, as no one expected her to organize a testimonial dinner any more after that debacle.
This is what exactly happened on that occasion:
My pompous aunt made it a point to see to it that she was the last person to make it to any function. Somehow she was under the delusion that the last guest happens to be a show stopper. To add to my misery, no sooner did she arrive, the guest jumped to being a testimonial dinner in her honour, and smelling the same, she was at her pompous best. No sooner the dinner started, the elders took their turn to say something heart rending about her. One of my uncles, for the reasons best known to him, and the one that I could never understand, went to the extent of calling Ms. Pompous Pony, the purest soul who would attain enlightenment soon. I was wondering how enlightened this uncle really was. I asked my mother whether this uncle knew that Ms. Pompous Pony was flying back to U.S., and not to the Himalayas!!! So what was this enlightenment nonsense all about? Another aunt, sweet though she is, out of the tendency of always saying something good even about the most corrupt soul around, complimented Ms. Pompous Pony about her strong headed character. Again, my mind went racing. I tried recalling the last time Ms. Pompous Pony acted strong headed. Another distant cousin revelled about the cookery skills of Ms. Pompous Pony. Another one complimented her about her dressing skills. My head was spinning, literally. I discovered that I had smooth liars in my family. 😉 I knew that my turn would come soon. I knew my mother was saying a silent prayer. My mother was praying that in case I do not have anything decent to spurt; I should not be a spoil sport and maintain dignified silence. But when it comes to me, god, as usual, turned deaf to my mother’s prayers. As soon as my turn came, all eyes got stuck at me. I felt as if I was under a scanner when twenty pair of eye cast expectant look at me. I realized why I hated such testimonial dinners.
I completely forgot the lines my mother had taught me. It was as good as forgetting the answers that you mug up in the last minute without ever understanding what it ever really meant. The little demon within me, was forcing me to speak the truth, only truth, and nothing but the truth. I cleared my throat, fully realizing that my aunt will need anti-depressant, or some other strong anti-psychotic pills that those psychiatrists dole out to control traumas in case she ever happens to read my mind!!! I said that my dear aunt gives me a lot to hope for. Hope that how easy it is to iron out the creases on your life and at the same time making the life of people around you messy and miserable. Oops!!! What was that? Why did I say that? I stammered and stuttered and tried correcting myself. I said that what I meant was that aunt is a female version of Ranjikant!!! She has the art of making the most fictitious things look and sound real!!! Nopes!!! Sorry again!!! I requested my aunt not to misread my unwarranted utterances. I again tried correcting myself, trying to sound as apologetic as I can. I said that what I meant that it’s an art to walk like a jumping pony, dress up in Page 3 fashion, and carry a Baba Ramdev look on your face and at the same time take credit for the success of your husband’s business and your cooks cookery skills, your designers wardrobe choices; when even the new born in your family knows that you are as smart as him or as good a cook as him or as refined as him and that you are so lazy that you possibly need help to change diapers like him!!! It is really an art! Oh Gosh! Why? I mean why on earth I am saying what I am saying??? I saw a glint of tears in my aunt’s eye. For a fraction of second I was dumb enough to assume that she was over whelmed by my testimonial. 🙂 🙂 But my mother was quick enough to make me realize the otherwise. She asked me to leave the room immediately. I shrugged my shoulders and was about to open my mouth in my defense that I realize that it would be in the interest of all that I leave them alone.
Okay folks! I know I am not Mr. Know It All to philosophies on the pros and cons of testimonials! All that I can say is that a person who really deserves a testimonial would never crave for one. The true testimonials are often left unsaid, for they often get reflected in your actions for the person who deserves your testimonial and not in some fancy sounding words. If you really love and appreciate someone, show it in your action. Let it not be a one off event!!!
My poor aunt has stopped attending testimonial dinners. 🙂 Nevertheless, I plan to attend or rather gate crash, (please know that I am not invited for such dinners any more. :P) another one soon. 🙂 Will let you folks know! Till then, let me know such weird incidents or rather eye openers of your life!!!
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