Dear Aunt Whose Name I Am Not Bothered To Know,
Hello! How are you? By the way, without even listening to your reply, I know that your health is better since you’ve started having a daily dose of the most controversial gossip about whose lives you’re not supposed to interfere in. I could say that I hope this letter finds you in the pink of your health, but for your sake, I hope you aren’t in the best of your health, so that there is some authenticity to your complaints about your “aching knee” at the next wedding. Nevertheless, I must agree that both, your storytelling skills and your exaggeration skills are simply out of this world.
I know, I know. I know that Mr. Tiwari’s daughter was kidnapped by Mr. Sharma’s son and thrown into the world of forced prostitution. I can almost see you raising your eyebrows at me, wondering how I managed to break your world record of being able to get maximum information from the maximum number of people, about the maximum number of people (whose right to privacy you’re violating) in the minimum amount of time. Believe me, I’m not trying to compete with you. I just know this because the girl in question is my best friend. But I guess friendship does not guarantee as authentic information as nagging does, because I’m sure she told me that she is running away, out of her own will, with a guy she loves, because the society disapproves of her bond with him. Anyways, let’s not beat around the bush (as is your usual style) and move on to the crux of the matter.
I’m writing this letter to present before you a humble request. Please stop caring so much for me. Stop worrying about whether I’m good at studies or not. Stop worrying about whether I got grades that are better than those of your neighbour’s daughter, please. Don’t let your blood pressure wreck havoc over my culinary skills please. And rest assured, my future husband will not go hungry for even a single day. (I will make sure his mom teaches him everything before I marry him.) I beg you, do not lose your sleep over whom I go out with and what time I return home. Aunt, I humbly beg you to stop caring so much. My mom and dad, with your permission, want their job back.
Yours sincerely (or not),
The niece whom you remember only when the board results are out.