For every aunty who became a mother. For every child she never let fall.
(finally looks at him) You were never an orphan, Shakil. I just had two children. Not one.
(softly) You remembered.
You carried me when my own… (pauses) You never made me feel like an orphan. Even when I was one. My Aunty -2025- FeniApp Originals Short Fi...
She turns. One look. He caves.
SHAKIL (25, soft-spoken, modern but grounded) sits on an old plastic chair. The skyline is cluttered with half-finished buildings and a few glittering high-rises. He holds a cup of tea. Beside him, a worn-out nakshi kantha (embroidered quilt) is draped over the railing.
My Aunty – 2025 Format: Short Film Script / Monologue (approx. 3–5 mins) Platform Style: FeniApp Originals (emotional, raw, family-centric) [SCENE OPEN] BLACK SCREEN Text appears: “Dedicated to the women who raise us without asking for anything in return.” For every aunty who became a mother
Silence. The ceiling fan hums.
Tomorrow, I’ll pack extra. Give him one. But you eat first. Always.
(guilty) No… it’s in my bag.
She pauses. Takes the box. Opens it.
Aunty Shirin, now 58, grayer, slower. She’s scrolling on a cheap smartphone. A cracked screen. The FeniApp logo glows.
Shakil enters. He’s holding a small gift box. I just had two children
Her hands tremble. She doesn’t cry. She never cries in front of him.
