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?

I, Skinny, have spoken

I’d started writing this blog as a sign of finally having found the nerve to respond to that one characteristic that had seemed to cloud everything I was – weight! (Or to be more precise, the lack thereof). This meant that until April 2009 I had no outlet to either talk about the things I’d gotten used to people saying (albeit forcibly) or air my views (albeit humorously).

This also translated into something else. For close to 20-odd years, I was made to believe that something was wrong with my physicality. That it was not good enough. And that I was less because of it. It had wreaked havoc with my self-esteem. And I at this point will let you in on one more piece of information: I was oblivious to the damages caused.

Only because no one said it’s nobody’s fault if they’re thin.

Only because no one said it’s alright if you’re thin (well, because you need that permission. Or so it seemed).

It’s taken me a while to understand the quirk of fate behind this line - “Sticks and stones will break my bones; but words will never harm me” – because while the “words” tore me down one jibe at a time, it’s the “bones” that’ve proved how un-frail I really was. The tongue doesn’t have a bone, you see! And I also had to find my tongue her voice – a constructive (not destructive one).

No, this isn’t the point where it’s time for -- Cue. Insert “…and they all lived happily ever after”.

Tragically for the rest of the world (and hardly at all for me), I still continue to be thin. So I have yet to hear the last word on the “you’re so thin”, “you must eat some more” and “why don’t you try gaining some weight” conversation starters of the world that make the “let’s talk about the weather” seem like a preferred option.

…just as I am hoping to someday know what it feels to be envied for a ‘Size Zero’ figure! And at the risk of sounding out rightly shallow, I’ll add that hell yeah, I deserve every right to live through that emotion. I’m after all naturally endowed when it comes to this.

But no, thanks.

A couple of weeks ago I derived inspiration for this post when I read this:

“…I worry for the girls out there who are like I was -- who are suffering from the same self-esteem issues that most teenagers do, and are being told they are ugly not only by their teasing peers, but by adults around them who are crusading for change…”

This is an excerpt from a Huffington Post article titled, “Stop Making the Thin Girl Ugly”

However though it provoked me to think about the baggage I’d been lugging around courtesy my own body structure, it also triggered a string of other thoughts.

“Being thin” is okay (read: un-ugly) when a person has “lost” weight because it is viewed as an achievement/triumph. All hail diet regimes. Ugh! The farce

“Being thin” is okay (read: can be lambasted in the mainstream media) when it’s the fashion industry because they are the perpetrators of a faulty sense of body-image.

Interestingly enough, “being un-thin” (AKA fat/overweight) is also friggin’ okay because the above two arguments have guaranteed there are enough supporters championing for the cause of the un-thin; whether in hushed tones, despair stricken eyes or as diet-regime over-throwers.

It’s the thin girl like me who still stands in the corner somewhere likened to, as pathetic it may sound, a stick meant for dogs.

It’s the thin girl like me who because she is ‘Not So Ample’ has to deal with every body part being sized-up and scruntized as if she was on display in the ‘Hall of Approval’.

Without the blink of an eye.  

But it’s the thin girl like me who owes no allegiance whatsoever to the diet-regimes or the fashion industry who deserves to be respected. At the very least. And may be sometimes be told that she’s alright just the way she is.

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 "

WANT: S.P.A.C.E.

It’s ironic how we live in a country where politeness, general niceties and simple manners are not only just taken for granted but more often than not even chucked straight out of the window! It seldom baffles us when someone tries to push their way through (literally and figuratively) and even makes it through. Our reaction, "Hmph! Yet another 'Tu mere baap ko nahi jaanta hai' lout."

Well to each their own.

Live and let live.

Let live!
Even if that person next to you is reed stick thin!

So when you see (it’s not that difficult) and hear this aforementioned caricaturish creature next to you or around you in semi claustrophobic spaces (read: railway stations, for instance), please hear them out and budge a bit.

They definitely don't have a beer belly nor hips the size of a Martian spaceship...perhaps their demeanour ain't half or even quarter as terrifying or intimidating -- but that doesn't imply or give you the gawd damned right to stay un-budged!

I've been there.

Urging for a lil more than a strip of space especially because there is that extra space.

This gross misunderstanding that skinny folks can wriggle their way out is a misnomer. We could be lugging a backpack three times our size and that's nobody's business. 

There's space. You simply make way.

If there's place to sit, you shift completely - not only how much you estimate the skinny folk to occupy. 

Some of us might be accommodating personalities.

But our physicality needs breathing and moving space. Refrain from cramming us like poultry on their way to the slaughterhouse.

Because when push comes to shove we can do that mighty well - given that our elbows have no fat caps to soften those blows.

After all ain't it the size of the fight in the dog that counts? Phir matth kehna 'Dhakka kyun maara" *grin*

Get back time

Having subjected myself to much ridicule at the hands of other people because of my Not-So-Ample frame, writing this blog was perhaps the first step i'd taken in standing up for myself. And yet i know i have along way to tread...

BTW i did some treading a couple of hours ago.

Situation:
The same old lunch/dinner sequence. Everyone's eating to their heart's content. Except me. 'Cuz I'd already had my fill.

Someone [Person A] offers me more food. I politely decline. I know I'm quite queasy already.
Before i know it the aforementioned "offer" gets transformed into a jibe of sorts.
Person A: See your hands. What are these re?
Me: Skin and bones i reply promptly with the broadest grin i could manage
Person A: But you've always been this way only. How much do you eat? What do you carry for lunch?
Me: Roti sabzi
Person A: You probably end up bringing it home in the evening.

HUH?
Time to clear the air. So i mentally wear my cape and swoop in down to rescue my old self saying,
I've been looking at some old photographs lately and my parents were no different from what i am right now, you see! What i am is genetic and there's no way anyone can change that, right?

Grinning. With twinkle in the eye.

A somewhat stunned at my response Person A says,
Ya ya...there's nothing wrong with being thin. Any way we do put on weight later. So will you.  And as try as we might to lose any of it, it never happens. No..no don't worry you'll be fine!

Smirking and saying out loud in my head: I am fine, thank you

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 ;)

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*