Aunt Paddu Deciphers Febraury

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Love, Overdose & The Great Deconstruction

“Ah, mid-February,” Aunt Paddu mused, sipping her chai (The latest Gujrat Masala from Teabox) with the air of someone watching a grand spectacle unfold. “A time when love isn’t just an emotion—it’s a full-fledged festival, complete with a day-by-day itinerary.”

She adjusted her reading glasses and scrolled through her WhatsApp messages. “Rose Day, Propose Day, Chocolate Day, Teddy Day, Promise Day, Hug Day, Kiss Day… Is love an emotion or an obstacle course?”

Her great-niece, busy tapping away on her phone, barely looked up.

“What now?” Aunt Paddu asked.

“Finalizing my Singles’ Day plans,” came the reply.

Aunt Paddu raised an eyebrow. “Ah, celebrating not being in this circus?”

Because if the first half of February is dedicated to micro-analyzing love as a verb—gifting, hugging, promising, and whatnot—the second half is the great deconstruction. The grand unraveling begins the moment Valentine’s Day roses start wilting:

• Slap Day – A reality check for those who mistook infatuation for a lifelong commitment. (Metaphorical slaps, we hope.)
• Break-up Day – A scheduled farewell for those who realize ‘forever’ had an expiration date.
• Missing Day – Honoring the ones who vanished post-dinner, conveniently forgetting they once believed in ‘soulmates.’
• Singles’ Day – The grand finale, a glorious reminder that love is not a mandatory social project.

Aunt Paddu shook her head. “So we build it up, tear it down, and then reward ourselves for surviving the emotional rollercoaster? How very… efficient.”

And somewhere, buried under all this drama, is the whisper of something truly subversive—self-love. Not the ‘bubble bath and scented candles’ variety (though no objections there), but the kind that involves setting boundaries, enjoying one’s own company, and—most scandalously—not needing an assigned day to feel whole.

But who wants to hear that in February? It doesn’t come with a discount code.

So tell me, dear readers, what’s been your funniest, most absurd February moment? The grand Valentine’s plan gone wrong? A ‘situationship’ that didn’t survive the week? Or are you sitting back with popcorn, watching the spectacle unfold?

Aunt Paddu is listening. And judging—just a little.