A foodie she is. A foodie she is not.

I don’t consider myself a foodie.

It’s a statement that I iterate in the same breath as when I say, “I am not intelligent”.

Somehow ‘not being intelligent’ does not get interpreted as ‘I am stupid’ (thankfully).

Because what it does convey is that while my intelligence quotient (IQ) isn’t quote-worthy, I am nevertheless an able-functioning-being who can hold a conversation, participate in discussions and also watch out for herself (and others) thereby still contributing to society in whatever manner deemed required.

And now back to me not being a foodie - it further also has this subtext: I for all seemingly fathomable reasons (i.e., not being so ample) do not even look like a foodie!

Therefore, this has been (and still continues to get) interpreted as ‘I don’t enjoy food’.

The above logic of ‘intelligent versus stupid’ out rightly defied (even though applied to the same specimen i.e., me) because well, I’m skinny!

That I can be (and am) excitable about certain foods during all stages –

(i)                  the build-up (i.e. planning/waiting for the food),

(ii)                the devour (self-explanatory) and,

(iii)               the story-tell (i.e. reliving the foodgasmic experience)

– seems to astound many.

“Look at you”, they say, “…I’ve never heard you sound this descriptive and ecstatic about food. Not even when you’re describing your travels”

“See her grinning so wide; so happy…”

Hmm... whaaaa?

Yeah I am capable of being excitable about all things food.

Even though I may still never know all the cuisines or the best places to eat them at or manage the wide range of cutlery for that matter (when I’m ravenous, I pig with my hands). Because in spite of what my physicality seems to suggest, if it’s food that’s well-prepared (and I’m biased towards larger portions) it doesn’t matter; even if it’s street food (another one of my biases incidentally).

Nor does it matter whether its food that is super-healthy. Does it have protein, carb, fat etcetera in proportion to my requirement? Let’s just say I don’t judge every morsel I eat (which shouldn’t be confused with ‘living to eat’ either).

And that I’ve been ‘complimented’ on some recent weight gain might just happen to be a consequence of a slower metabolism rate and a very very sedentary lifestyle!

Munch Ado About Something

Circa 25th Jan 2014, Saturday 'yours truly' was aboard a 20:05  Thane local from CST when at Byculla (and I refrain from the pretense of being politically correct here.. I mean, I'm a self certified self proclaimed skinny and there aren't two ways about it) haan so back to the story -- at Byculla a rather obese woman hopped in and plonked right beside me.

Needless to say she had two dozen pair of eyes on her.

And she was...well, munching on some biscuits. I looked back at the 'audience'.
Something felt vaguely familiar.

For all those times I'm the one rounding up an 'audience', I realized I'd done so because at such points in time I'd turned down the offer to well, munch!

And the 'audience' has that same distinct unwelcoming look about their eyes.

They judge her for eating since she's obese
They judge me for not eating since I'm skinny

Why though..?
You're obese so you're not supposed to get hungry?
You're skinny so you're supposed to induce hunger at all times?

The satirical twist to this is that even someone like me,  who takes a dig at her own skinny-ness and at people misconstrued-ness (all in good jest), does a happy dance of her own if someone says either of the following:
"You've gained weight"
"You eat so much"
"You're lucky you can wolf down your favorites without being bothered"
And that^^ to me reeks of something sinister -- to be uncategorized as skinny/lean/thin.. to disown an identity.. my own identity

And I see glimpses of this all around me.. same ole eternal grass is greener on the other side -- obese want to get skinny, skinny want to be anything but skin and bones; the White bask in the sun to get tanned, the un-Whites are going in for whitening creams...

May be I should go grab that midnight snack than be up mulling over these first world problems of mine!

Karmic Retribution

The film, ‘Gangs of Wasseypur’ is my personal favourite because of its in-your-face, gritty, raw appeal that I found very endearing. I’ve watched this three hour movie twice only because I had to miss the final 45 minutes of the film the first time around. But no one who has loved the movie will ever forget the scene in Part I that led to the infamously famous dialogue, “तुमसे ना हो पाएगा…” - the panache with which those lines were delivered was simply terrific!

There was a certain definiteness to it which is in complete contrast to the inquisitorial  " क्या तुमसे हो पाएगा ? " that i'm afflicted by when my capabilities are under dubious scrutiny (courtesy my skinniness).

Allow me to elaborate with live examples:

Me: “Let me help you with those boxes.”

Them: " क्या तुमसे हो पाएगा ? "

Me: “Could I give you hand with your bags?”

Them: " क्या तुमसे हो पाएगा ? "

Me: *lugs her own bags on the shoulders*

Them: " क्या तुमसे हो पाएगा ? "

Me: “Okay, the starters aren’t enough. We should call the waiter for our order. I need more food.”

Them: " क्या तुमसे हो पाएगा ? "

Me: *when finally the main course is out of the way* “I want dessert.”

Them: " क्या तुमसे हो पाएगा ? "

Me: *when I decide to pick whiskey over beer*

Them: " क्या तुमसे हो पाएगा ? "

Me: *when I’m pumped and revved up about an outdoor activity. Think: running, cycling, trekking, rafting*

Them: " क्या तुमसे हो पाएगा ? "

It has begun to humour me that people go about casting those aspersions at me only because of my apparent not-so-ampleness for I’m the sort who goes by: ‘Seeing is believing’. And rather ironically on many an instance like those highlighted above for every single time they were flagged (whether under the guise of concern or for the purpose of ridicule), I’ve been able to k!ck a$$ real bad.

And for the purposes of my entertainment perhaps, I’ve been a witness to circumstances where someone either couldn’t manage their bags/luggage or had way too much leftover food or got too tipsy after their first pint of beer or gave up on their outdoor activity mid-way because they couldn’t keep at it… All while I’m silently smirking with a thought bubble over my head, “ तुमसे ना हो पाया।  रहेनेदे "

Chocoholics Anonymous

Just when I’d begun to think that I had a handle on this ‘Hey! You’ve lost weight!’ moment of conversation with people – both fiend and friend alike – I stop getting poked with jibes. And I say this rather wistfully.
Why? Well…
I haven’t been able to come up with a theme to write around my ‘not-so-ampleness’ since quite some time now; except of course for a snippet or two around phases where I’ve mentioned how I cannot stop gorging on food!

Hence, I conclude that I’m a lost-in-transition-skinny.

Except that there is one recurrent theme - now that I think about it *the grin of redemption*- : every time I decline chocolate!

Yeah, I hear the gasps; see the sympathetic looks and the likes.  The gods deemed it this way and I’ll come to the why in a lil bit (though most now have heard of it already)

What makes this tragedy the most farcical manoeuvre by the story writers of my life is that I (*sucks air in*) used to be (yeah, past tense) a chocoholic, a compulsive one at it. That just makes the present, imperfect (punning the grammar)!

Birthdays, festivities, celebrations, random celebrations or just plain ole’ randomness like someone returning from a holiday in the Swiss Alps (yeah, random no?) just mandates that there be chocolates on the table, in the fridge, as takeaways. Except in my tummy!

Why? Not because *ahemming and rolling eyes out* I’m on a diet!

Gah! Who goes on a diet and strikes chocolates off their list?

Who then strikes chocolates off their list, you ask? Well, someone with a medical condition so acute that self-restraint is much less painful than consumption itself. I’m going to spare you’ll the gory details of what happens if and when I do eat chocolate. Because you’re going to have to trust me when I say that I went through the excruciatingly painful procedure of monitoring my food in-take over a period of time (read: months) only to forcibly reckon myself with the ‘fact’ that all my woes and inconveniences were linked to - *heart skips a beat* - chocolates!

Yes, I gambled a little with my fate. So, though I knew I still didn’t exercise any self-restraint and the b!tc# came to bite me back (you know where).

So here I am with a condition that similar to my size has the capacity to evoke among people a similar reaction (read: eyebrows disappearing into their receding hairlines; shock, awe and pity) while I, the evolved dessertarian have moved on to explore flavours, finer tastes and eclectic delights outside of the cocoa world that leave me at an equally happy (if not happier) place.

Finally one shout-out  goes out to my bum-chums who have now taken it upon themselves to never order anything chocolate (even when it’s their own birthday or reason to call for a celebration) because of this lone ranger. There’s a heightened secret sense of camaraderie when there are 6 heads and 6 pairs of hands fighting it un-fair and square for the last crumb of dessert on the table…and happiness is a grin whipped across our faces!

Omnomnomnom

This representative of the skinny genus has been MIA busy updating experiences from a very refreshing and inspiring holiday! 

And while part of my head still continues to feel up in the clouds, my tummy in particular has been in a nomnomnom mode for a while. 

Just to make this even more visual – *open mouth, point finger in*

So what does that translate into? 

The need to snack in-between meals.
Spending more time on Zomato than Facebook
Purchasing a cookery book with the 9 others that are fiction

I have never, NEVER snacked (or been the kind who did) between meals. I ate my portions – three times a day. And I was sorted. Now suddenly I’m far from sorted. It may not seem as such a big deal but to me it is. 

How did it come down to satiate the need to munch at 10 when you’ve breakfasted at 7, pace around impatiently around 3 when you’ve lunched and leeched other people’s lunch too at 1, then repeat exercise from 5 to about 7, grab a bite around the corner with your street food vendor friend (if you stop by every other day he becomes your friend), get home to eat dinner only to scan the kitchen moments later for a pre-midnight snack, some how sleep only to wake up in the middle of the night because you can hear your tummy rumbling…wake up in the morning for a breakfast and repeat the cycle

Phew! When, why and how exactly did this happen? 

But more than my own disbelief, it’s the extreme reactions I still continue to attract that continue to keep me entertained:

 “I doubt you’re going to be able to eat all of that!” 

to

"You’re going to eat all that AND that?” 

to

“What’s wrong with you? Hungry and eating all the time? Go check you weight!” 

to

“Hey, here please help me finish my food”

Even better is when friends call you to catch up over a binge eating fest!

Weigh-ry funny...NOT!

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­“This joke is on you missy”, that seems to be the message the story writers of my life seem to be keen on directing towards me off late!

Know how I’ve been swooning over the moon about my recent achievement (read: gain in weight)? Know of how elated I’ve been because there’s been a significant needle movement on the scale (the last time I checked)?

Then you definitely know how much this meant to me – you’ve read the testimonies of grief I’ve been subjected to because of my not-so-ampleness!

And right there in the middle of this joy being celebrated over more cheesecakes is what I’d like to classify as a paranormal activity.

Sale season is here. Or at least was around until at least a week ago. And I’d been somehow lured into walking into a store to check some stuff out. Checking ‘em out led me to actually finding a pair of pants that caught my eyes and hence I decided to give it a try. In my new Zen state of awareness I pick up a size that’s larger than what I’d otherwise fit into.

Lo and behold! Pant won’t fit. I walk out with a grin decide not to bother any further. It’s established. I need to start looking away from familiar racks to those that stack a bigger size.

Now here’s where the cosmic joke kicks in -- two days ago, I was raiding my own wardrobe and found myself a pair of pants. Slipped in and realized I’d need a belt. Not to accessorize, but to hold ‘em in place. A quick check-in on the size and guess what? This pair of pant is a size smaller than the one I didn’t quite manage my way through only a couple of days ago.

W.T.F.!

 So this continues… some of things I own restrict my movement because I’m suddenly rendered too big to be in them anymore and some others, well, still need the alterings, the belts, the whatnots…

I’m convinced – the joke is on me!

And as if this wasn’t strange enough, over a seemingly generic conversation the topic veered towards weight issues. To which my parents unanimously chimed in, “Don’t worry about your weight. Be grateful that unlike others you don’t have to tone/slim down!”

What? 

No more bashing me on how little I eat. Good riddance. Being a personified rodent in the house nibbling into almost everything is proving to be a boon.

So what if I’m not the last one laughing? I’m the happy one eating to my heart’s content!!! 

Not So Skinny...Say Whaaaa?

“You’re looking much better”

When conversations start like that^^ -- I find myself at a loss of words. Though, of course, my face tells a different story -- my cheeks (yes, godammit I finally have cheeks) start swelling, my pupils dilate and my grin, just terrific!

So recently when a very good friend of my mine said to my face, “You’ve put on weight!”, I grinned and repeated that statement I’d been bestowed upon by someone else – “You’re looking much better” – and she (my friend, i.e.) was mortified.

It’s not funny how our society has branded ‘weight’ as a taboo – not to be spoken about, never to be referred to in a positive manner.

I, on the other hand (as is obvious already), could not care less or take offence to a statement like the one above.

My pet peeve (and courtesy my blog I have started to learn isn’t just mine alone) is that people make such a fuss about thin, skinny YET otherwise normal and healthy people (like yours truly)!

But I think those days are far behind. And it’s for real. I haven’t stood on the scales (it jinxes it for me) but everyone I’ve been meeting has made a remark about how I’m no longer reed stick thin!

I’ll attribute it to a relatively easy paced way of life I’m currently living (in contrast to the mad one for the past few years where I’d been juggling a dozen of things, multitasking and basically sacrificing food and sleep). Now however The Good Life comprises of being in the nomnomnomnom mode, be it cheesecakes, ghee dripping dal khichadi or good old beer!

I was even asked you say so much on your blog about how thin you are, but you’re no longer that skinny. That!

And that’s the one piece I’m worried about though – this blog of mine is linked with my identity, my identity at being skinny.

No skinny me would leave me to blog about what?

P.S.: The opposite of skinny isn't fat. #JustSayin

O the things people say…

First they irk you. Then they numb you. Then you dumb them.

May be. May be.

I've written about many brief incidents in what I thought was aptly titled: A day in the life of you know who... and even later in a post on Khali and Me

 

While I've found the humour in the irony, there are some one-liners that I've heard so often that I do think they deserve a *cough cough* honourable mention, to say the least! And just in good jest, I've categorized them too. With my thought bubble in italics, So here goes...

Most lame remark: 

Arre you toh must not be eating only. 

Yeah, I live on love and fresh air

Most repeated remark: 

You’re on a diet o’what? 

Yup, I’m that “fat” (no offence) that I need to be on a diet

Most ironic remark: 

From now only you want to maintain your figure haan? 

Stick is a figure you mean?

Most frequently-heard-during-childhood remark: 

What men? You ate anything or just filled your stomach with water? 

I have some more left in the glass. Could I dunk you in it?

Most daft remark: 

You finished eating? You hardly eat. 

I was hungry. I wolfed my meal down. No time to talk about the weather. Hence finished eating. Problem?

Most freely available remark: 

You should eat more. This (referring to my size) is not good. 

I eat. I’m fine thank you. I don’t see the doc as frequently as you, so…

Most bizarre remark: 

You’re lucky – you can find clothes for yourself in the kids section too. 

Pity you – nothing even in the maternity section

Most self-defeating remark: 

You should put on some weight. *turns around speaks to someone else advising them to lose weight* 

*I rest my case* #win

Most paternalistic remark: 

Madam yeh size aapko aayega 

Dude! STOP. I’m skinny..YES. Shrivelled..NO! #ReasonsWhyIHateShopping

Most overrated remark: 

You’ve lost weight! 

Man! Seriously!!  That’s what this blog is all about!

Come to think of it - what would I be posting about if not for these guys! *grin*

Eat. Pray. Love. (with a difference)

I welcome myself back to my own blog for returning after a long hiatus... what remains to be seen is how long before i have to disappear again

Speaking of which, every time people see me - even if it is after a week - they, no wait, "i" seem to give them the impression that i am disappearing into thin air. Needless to say from all i have already ranted about before, i cannot help but roll my eyes out...

Last month was bad. I fell ill. Having undergone the trauma of swallowing fist fulls of antibiotics, i thought the worst was over and behind me.

I was wrong.

My weight took the beating... And while i dont know how much i lost (i have not dared to stand on the scales since...) when my collar bone protrudes i have the truth glaring at me in my face. Literally.
What i do not need is for any kind of confirmation. But people will be people. *sigh*

However somewhere in the middle of all the pesky concerns, 'yours truly' decided it was time to at least try to regain what had once been mine.
And so began the mission with a vengeance... I was hoping for the regain to happen just as quickly as the loss did. My bad!

So here i am trying real hard to get some flesh on to wrap around my bony structure with not much success and i think to myself, 'There are many others on the other end of the spectrum (though many stand right before me) who'd kill to be standing in my shoes...though i still CANNOT fathom why :-S'

My funda for the moment:
Eat -- Autum's setting in and it's doing real wonders to my appetite :D
Pray -- That autumn happens all year through :P
Love -- That people actually envy my being skinny ;)

Khali and Me!

The great 7 footer Khali is in town -- reiterating our obsession with size once again! While the tabloid article that had my attention was about the size (again) of his bed, i'm sure several others (tabloids, i.e.) have gone on to frivolously talk (just like me) about other not so important things to do with him!

Tracing SIZE back to my own childhood, it began with my dear mother. Back then, she was the sitting duck...victim to all the nasty insinuations that were meant for me.
EXCERPTS:
(to my dear mother)
"She's so thin."
"She's become thin."
"You should feed her blah blah blah ."
"Have you tried blah with her?"
"Don't let her drink so much water while she's eating."
"Make her eat blah ."

The good thing was that she never didn give a damn about the world :D And she had reason not to. She treated me like a human being and not a sacrificial turkey or goat - choose whichever you may - that ought to be stuffed! I was no sickly child either!!

But the "world" will not lie low at being ignored. So when the passage of time had passed...and i had grown from an insignificant tot to a not-so-significant-yet-to-be-deemed-adult, things had transcended to another level - where compliments adorned the garb of a double edged sword.
EXCERPTS:
(to my dear mother)
"She's grown nice and tall. But she hasn't put on any weight. She hasn't changed."
"Don't you feed her well?"

(directly to me)
"Wow! Look how much you've grown! BUT you're still so thin. Don't you eat?"
"Are you trying to maintain your figure?"
Those were the moments when i'd wished people talked to me about the weather!

Well, that also explains why i can't stand people who throw their weight around! *wink wink*