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!

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

Saath khayaali khoon maaf...

It’s got to be one of those phases where the writers of the story of my life as more than pleased with themselves as they are with me. The things I hear being said about me are very unreal, unimaginable to say the least. It’s in direct conflict with the very nature of my blog.

What’s been happening? Well, as always I have been meeting/bumping into people – some known at a rather personal level over shorter spans of time, others mere acquaintances even over longer spans of time. But yeah, people – people who are somewhat an ilk different from the once-upon-a-time type used to get under my skin…or well, wait, my skinny-ness!

I’d never have thought that meeting someone after almost five years would transpire into a conversation like this:

Person X: Oh my god! It’s so nice to see you. You’re looking so much better. You’ve put on some weight. I’m so happy to see you like this. Good good. You should continue to take care of yourself.

(Reaction too strong to put down into words. Smiled and grinned. Couldn’t stop until cheekbones started to hurt a bit)

And then a few days after that I met a friend after what seemed like an eternity (5 months does seem like an eternity when it’s your bum-chum)

Disclaimer: To be a bum-chum, you need to be in-your-face-honest at all times.

Bum-chum: Eli, have you put on weight?

(Reaction: Wait? You seriously asking or are you going to say I’ve lost something I claim to never have had? No, you really mean I’ve put on weight! HHAHAHAHAHAHAH – HAPPINESS!!!)

Another time a question posed by someone in a very random context (though at that point I must add that I was wolfing down some super delicious cupcakes *drool*)

Randomly concerned person M asking question: Why would you want to put on weight, ya? You’re perfect the way you are…

(Reaction: Me? Skinny me? Perfect? According to you. Super. Need to unearth more souls like you!)

Yet another time a colleague gets chatty over arm wrestling with me. Huh. Yeah my life is strange – but in a good way. Yeah, arm wrestling. This is what the conversation veers towards:

Colleague E: Thin people are stronger, dude. I have a friend I couldn’t  win arm wrestling against. Hmm, wait… *takes a step forward to look at me – resumes conversation* …she was thinner than you. You have legs. She had sticks in place of legs. Yet she beat me.

(Reaction: Recall that Hindi muhawara we had to frame sentences with in school ‘phoole nahi samaana’? I found my sentence!)

These are just a few. I mean, it’s just great to receive this kind of acknowledgment. I can eat all I want and claim to do so because I need to fit into my clothes without having to see a tailor who has to alter it. HAHAHH – fit into my clothes. Now how many people really can claim that.

But life’s no less interesting without the usual suspects trying to poke jibes and dig my bones. Tch tch to them. So this one time I had to get through a security check and then the females are taken aside so that the detector can complete its task and this lady security guard looks at me and shoots an-in-your-face-question: “Aap bahut patle ho? Thoda weight put on karna chahiye?”

HHAHA – Like I haven’t heard that before. But consequently I had this thought that I'd posted on Facebook: Is it being mean when you respond to a "You're too thin" with "Yeah. You're too fat too"? -- Isn't it supposed to be fact sharing? #koshchan

 I haven’t acted on that thought of mine. I’m too happy to care to be bothered and hence, it’s ‘saath khayaali khoon maaf’ from me! *grin*

It's a Grin Story

Fact # 1: The Earth is small.
Fact # 2: Some people will say just about anything to have the last word.

Having established the aforementioned facts - which as this bit progresses along will make much more sense - i will get down to this rather silly incident that i obviously was a part of a couple of days ago...

I was to meet a figure of authority (whose name and designation i shall refrain from disclosing. Refer: Fact # 1) for some official purpose. If it already isn't established i must state that we are just about cordial with each other whenever circumstances bring us aamne-saamne... So while i was getting my work done, i was being attacked by a some real quick questions -- none of which deserve a mention.

I hate questions. For some inexplicable reason they make me feel like i'm a convict... But as stated above, i can be cordial. So in a very diplomatically un-like me i dodged the questions with a rather irritating grin pasted across my face.

Just when i thought it was all over (including the questioning)...i got a piece of unwarranted advice:
"You should put on some weight".

With my grin intact i exited the scene of the crime.
My last thoughts were something i've already mentioned. (Refer: Fact # 2)