Sunday, November 16, 2008

Downsizing Jumbo!

Never let go of your sisters, they say. Amen to that.
Where would we be if we didn't have our safe, warm Venusian cocoons to retreat into for that special brand of sisterly love to cope with the highs and lows of life? Probably lolling about on the couch glued to the idiot box with candy wrappers and tubs of ice cream strewn about our feet. Or pounding the payments in search of retail therapy.
As much as I love my women friends, I must confess that there are instances when the male of the species is definitely more effective...Say like when the fat monsters come for a visit and overstay like the proverbial camel!!! Gain a pound and all my male friends descend on me like demons from hell, while my girl friends only soothe my battered ego and sympathise.
No small wonder that I have been fighting a loosing battle against the bulge for as long as I can remember. The rare lean days that came my way were all gone with the wind before it even registered. In vain have I scoured the the earth for suitable diets and practical exercise regimens. And when that failed, I learned to suck in my stomach and hold my breath until I was pink in the face. When people raved about my peaches and cream complexion, I smiled a secret smile and kept counting to 100...

But with age came sluggish metabolism. And before I knew it, I had transformed from voluptuous to jumbo size. The roses in my cheeks disappeared into fleshy folds and I even contemplated whale bone stays and corsets to contain the girth. On the best of days, I looked and felt like a dwarf pachyderm.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. So when the gazillionth square of gooey fudge brownie had found its way to my hips, I decided to recruit the most ruthless of my male friends into Operation Downsize Jumbo.
Venu, my fitness guru from back home, was the first one on board....His fitness blue print and caustic barbs drove the carbs out of the window and, much to my regret, sugar, spice and everything remotely sinful as well. For two whole months, I diligently puffed away on my cycle, turning a deaf ear to the enticing pleas of my favourite foods as they clamoured for attention in the windows of my mind. Sadly, I was never the one for discipline nor abstinence. And ever so slowly, the calories trickled back in until the exercise could no longer combat its effect.
A Diet Controller, I decided, was the need of the hour and who better than my good friend and fitness maniac Anu?? Anu took to his new role with the utmost zeal and relish which, might I add, bordered on sadism. I was required to report in on every morsel that passed through my lips....Consumed only after an in-depth discussion on its protein-carb-fat content. In between meals, I was besieged with messages that threatened dire consequences if I were to succumb to the charms of the grass skirted hula dancing chocolate donuts or the tantalising smells that emanated from the local patisserie.
I should have shed a considerable amount of lubber and probably would have, if it weren't for the fact that the forbidden fruit was indeed unspeakably desirable. " No point fighting the lard. Let us all just remain happily fat" crooned the voices in my head as I watched the retreating back of my Diet Controller. And for sometime, we - me, my fat cells and the voices in my head - were just that....Happily Fat!
But the happy state of affairs was not to last.
Enter R, a very dear friend, who decided that I needed to be taken in hand and pounded into shape...Not because it would make me look good, but because, it was important for me to be healthy. He did prove to be a lot more effective than his predecessors. Probably because there were no pointed barbs, no veiled or direct threats and above all, no extensive bad foods list to adhere to. All R wanted me to do was to exercise and eat in moderation..And this he achieved by gently prodding me into action with his lazy humour - " hey, your lips have gotten fatter in just two days!..." - which inevitably brings on an anxiety attack.
It has been close to 20 days now and I have so far, not fallen off the wagon.
If R goes the way of his predecessors, I shall find myself some happily fat friends with whom I can gorge myself to repulsive corpulence...Just so that the rest of the 'Wanna-Be skinnies' can feel good about themselves.
*Sigh* .....Such Altruism!!!


Roopa said...

In your photos, you don't appear fat at all!!! But that might be just my venusian sympathetic mind :D

Dancing is a great way to avoid putting on excess weight. but you won't end up toned with just dancing..that is my experience :)

Miaow!!! said...

The Venusian sympathetic mind and artful photography!!!

Ganga Dhanesh said...

sometimes it's better to change the ideal of beauty...hope there are more campaigns championing 'real beauty' y'know the size 12 variety :)

Miaow!!! said...

Oh yes Ganga..And wudn't I love to see grossly obese but happy women on the covers of Vogue, Vanity Fair and Harper's Bazaar as well....Not to mention Playboy...LOL

shail said...

Hmmm.... your pics deny the story! *bewildered*
Narration rates excellent!

Miaow!!! said...

* pirouettes & takes a bow *
Thank you Shail... But sadly, the proof of the pudding is in the eating....If you see me in the next few months, you would know what I am talking abt....Hopefully the R effect will melt the fat after that...