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!

The Skinny Curvy Conundrum

When Not-At-All-Ample is friends with Not-At-All-Skinny, the world seems like a funny place; albeit only through the rear view mirror. How so? Let me take you through it.

To the one who is Not-At-All-Ample they say:

“Have some more. Don’t be shy. You’re thin. You can afford to eat as much as you please.”

And to the one who is Not-At-All-Skinny they say:

 “See. Look at her! She’d asked for just one roti but I gave her two. And she ate just one. But you? You’d have eaten both....”

Do you see something wrong with those statements?

If you see nothing wrong with either of those statements or you see something wrong with just one of the above statements, then you my friend are someone this post in particular (and this blog in general) are dedicated to.

If you see something wrong with both those statements, then you’re the kind we need more of.

Somehow it became acceptable to call someone fat or thin.

Until, very recently, when the ‘real-girls/women-have-curves’ movement took over and it became fashionable to single out the not so curvy ones! It was (and still is) considered downright rude and insensitive to make fat-girl jokes. 

What happened to the curvy boys and men no one knows. No wait, it’s a beer belly hence it’s fashionable to have one, I guess.

So then it was deemed (presumably) that you, Skinny girl, shall be the focal point of all things size. And focal point literally translates into:

Sympathy (Oh! You poor thing. Mustn’t you put on some weight?),

Condescension (You’re such a weakling),

Envy (I wish I could be as thin as you),

Mockery (Do you pick your stuff from the kids’ section?)

“Hey skinny” you say and quickly cover up saying you meant that in good jest. Yeah. The world is a funny place. Funny, only if you’ve resolved to not let all things this provoke you.

What baffles me is how it doesn’t matter what role genetics or sometimes just good old metabolism had to play. 

And as ironic as it may seem, in the grand scheme of things it matters little who says it. Between you and me, we’ve heard and seen equal number of people along the ‘Ample to Not So Ample’ continuum who’d come to mind right now for having made such remarks.  

Is there a threshold, then, or a safe spot where how much (or little) you weigh is accepted?

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!

Hug-oholic!

A hug is a great gift - one size fits all, and it's easy to exchange.  ~Author Unknown

I've used that quote just to substantiate how much a hug can mean and convey -- especially when words fail.

Now, i was not the kind to grow up being surrounded by teddy bears right through my formative years. Nor did i receive these warm fuzzy softies during birthdays. So the very concept of 'bear hug' eluded me for a really long time.
Yes, we did hug for Christmas, New Year and Easter but i was to come a long way before i fully understood THE hug.

Fast forward to circa 'Munnabhai' courtesy Bollywood the 'jaadoo ki jhappi' came on to be quite a rage around town. In being so, i gradually went on first from being a victim to then a victimizer *wink wink* The therapeutic effect was such that hugging was to me what digging a bone is to a dog...and we were a clique who knew just 'what' and 'how' to make things right -- even when we didn't know what made things wrong... And ironically enough, the ones that seized the wind out of your lungs were the ones that kicked your blues away :)


Everything was fine until some months back a friend who was a 'victim' of my hug retorted back with something to the effect of me being nothing but skin and bones... To this i replied that my purpose in life was probably to make others elsewhere in the world realise the plight of the malnourished children in Africa!!


HAHA..


And while being at it, here's another quote i found that probably fits me to the 'T': Everybody needs a hug.  It changes your metabolism.  ~Leo Buscaglia

It sure seemed to have changed mine *sticks tongue out*