I am fat, and it’s all your fault.
When every happenstance seems mundane and ordinary, when you disappear, and they all slowly walk away, and all of it threatens to push me over the edge, into vast nothingness, I try and focus on my breathing. Inhale, exhale: over and over again, until the need to regulate it ceases, until I can focus on nothing but me, alone, safe, and warm, still alive and breathing. I focus on the smiles and laughter sequestered by the defense mechanisms honed by me and by you, by us all: romantic comedies/ action movies, popcorn, Coke with lots of ice and copious amounts of chocolate ice cream.
I do?
We are a country obsessed with settling down. We are required to have the right birth, the right family, the right education in order to get the right job. All this to enable the citizens of this country not to live a better life, not even to be responsible, aware citizens but to grow up and become a suitable boy/ girl. Get married, get settled, have children, do the same for them… and do everything you can to marry them well. Isn’t it tiring? And pointless?
The list of credentials range from “good” family, the right caste, the right class, “English medium” education with a post grad or at least a good under grad? What the hell is a good under grad? Or a decent post grad? What is a good job for the girl? Teaching? HR? Dentistry? Or agreeing to quit one’s “busy job” after marriage to look for a manageable one, “I have a house to manage”. Err, okay, and when you were living on your own in a strange city, you were not managing your house? And what will the man you’re marrying do? What is manageable?
Newspapers have matrimonial sections flooded with ads. Websites that enable you to find your “soulmate” or your “perfect match” are forcing mothers and “aunty jis” to log on and create their sons’ and daughters’ profiles! There are TV shows broadcast during the afternoons so that they are viewed by the “right” demographic (do I need to spell this out for you?). Red and gold, pink and silver, red and green… You shop for the right match, you shop for the right clothes, jewellery, invitations, caterers, the list is endless!
Finally, you have the wedding, the honeymoon, the blah! And IF you’re a North Indian, you also fast: no food, no water, once a day, every year for your husband’s long life!?! Oh! You also dress up and deck up in jewellery and go to the temple with other married women. You wait for the moon to break your fast, you wait for him to feed you the first bite! All this, ALL THIS, when you don’t even know if you believe in this crap! It’s to make the boy’s family happy or the boy happy or carry on tradition! Who says culture shock wears off in a few months? I grew up in this country, but this day, Karva chauth, always shocks me!
See you soon!
We’ve come a long way since we last sat here. A very long way, a very long time, a very long tiring walk. Ah yes, a long way. Trouble is, we still don’t know where we’re headed.
So, where do we go from here?
Down the rabbit hole. Twirling and twisting and scraping pink elbows, she falls! Thank God she was wearing a pair of jeans and not some poufy skirt.
What about me? What about these tiny shorts, I don’t want my knees to be scarred.
Ah, so we take different ways. You go on, straight down the road and take a left. Keep on walking downhill till you meet me. Okay?
So, you’re going to jump now?
Yes, I am.
Oh alright then, good luck!
See you..!
Soon?
fat = funny!
Lots of places, lots of times…
“S/he’s so hot…!”
“Yes… very…”
“Oh-so-gorgeous…!”
“Did you speak to her/him?”
“Uhuh”
“And…?”
“What do you think?”
“Arrey, tell me…”
“Well… s/he looked blank, I worked very hard and managed to make her/him laugh”
“So? That’s good, right?”
“It was like talking to baby who hasn’t yet learnt to talk!”
“Pity… another dumb one”
*gulps drink*
Somewhere, not so long ago…
“Yeah, he’s funny… but then…” stops abruptly.
“But then…?”
“Well, they say fat people are funnier than others”
“Who says?”
“They do.”
“Uhuh.”
“Oh come on! Where’s your sense of humour?!”
“I think I just lost a kilo…”
And they all laughed.
Somewhere, recently…
“Oh, another good one!”
“Yeah! I’m on a roll today!”
“Y’know what they say…”
“What do they say?”
“As the waistline increases, your jokes get better!”
“Aah… they do.”
“Well… not-so-thin people are more charming and friendly and funny… it’s a good thing!”
“Of course it is! So, you must have shopped for a new wardrobe this weekend!”
“Hehe… just 2 pairs of trousers!”
“Figures… you really need help with ‘em one liners”
Haha. You’re so funny…! We’re so funny! I hear ya!
we are lovin’ it!
My new favourite thing to do is to look up utterly random shite on urbandictionary.com!
It is truly hilarious. It makes me giggle and guffaw and sometimes go ewwww! Also, when I’ve run out of things to search for, the site, without fail delivers! Here is to Whitey and Maya and also to Bebo!
The area in affected female legs where the calf meets the foot in an abrupt, nontapering terminus; medical cause: adipose tissue surrounding the soleus tendon, probably congenital, worsened by weight gain and improved in appearance only by boots. From the English “calf” meaning wide portion of the lower leg, and “ankle” meaning slender joint of leg with foot.
Usage: If I didn’t have cankles, I might be able to wear those Prada loafers with my capri pants.
Heeeheeeehahahahahahahaheeeeeeee!
