Tuesday, April 20, 2010

was standing at the bus stop a few weeks ago, when i came across this girl in a burkha. the black long burkha, was just long enuff for me to see a glimpse of the jeans that she wore under it. as i looked at her feet, she was in stilletos those really hip high heels tat i generally fear whilst roving my eye at a bus stop :P

amazing ! is all i cud think of. for burkha, the much malligned islamic attire, was more a symbol of subjugation, somehting i guessed was worn out of compulsion and not out of choice. and here she was, wearing the burkha with elan over her jeans, and what i assume wud have been a chic top too!

as i gazed further at her, ( helped tat my bus was nowhere to be seen ) i couldnt help marvel at how at oddity she was from the burkha-clad-stereotype woman we always like to parade when we speak of the other half of our religious history. she spoke fluent english, a rather upper crust elite education shone thru the way she carreid her self. she was definitely employed. her bag exemplified her clasy taste . the ruffled folds on her burkha testified to have been on the whole day and not just to avoid recognition by kith and kin on the road. she really was in total control of herself, and her surroundings, aware of guys looking at her, and in a very confident and healthy way, enjoying the attention.

so what was she? liberated indian woman, living on her own terms, covering her self up from head to toe ( well almost) out of choice, asserting her right to be a muslim in this world, and yet be progressive and liberated ?

or was she a sad girl , trying to be "in" with the crowd her age, forced to be under a burkha? hiding her hopes and ambitions under the dark all encompasing cloth that religion draped on her ?

even as i could think of an answer to these queries, zoom came her boyfreind, and vroom went she behind him on a bike, burkha still intact!

what was she? who was she? the liberated woman? or the chained muslim girl running away from herslef?

Thursday, April 01, 2010

I have put on some extra kilos of late, or so I have been told. Not by a concerned girl friend, unable to wrap her slender arms around my ever-increasing girth, but my well meaning friends who intend to keep me in shape till I land that girl ready to ,, u know, wrap herself around me :P

Now, I have wanted to get fat for long. No I am not poking fun at those who are a lil larger than most of us, I really mean it, when I say that after the desire to meet madz, the only ferverent desire of my life was to get fat. I am sick of being thin (no offence meant to all those who fight each day to stay grounded and not fly away with the next breeze), tired of being asked “arre beta khana theek nai milta wahaan?” by all and sundry, bored of being reminded that how healthy I “used” to be and how I have become now, makes me feel I’ve contracted some terminal sickness of sorts!

So, as is obvious, I’ve tried all in my strength to get those extra pounds. Gym, over eating, binging, stuffing, god knows gluttony has been my biggest sin for the past few years of my life! And yet, I never managed to grow even an inch in girth! All that I ate went where god knows! (I secretly believe my gluttony was being punished in this life itself, freeing me from the sin in the other world.) I’d stare longingly at obese people, checking out clothes in the XXXL sizes at malls, longing for that chance, imagining the joy of being able to fit into a t shirt that looks like a mini tent for a three year old’s camping trip! All my attempts, all my prayers went to a royal waste, as I started resigning to the fact that it just aint in my DNA to gain weight! But that was until now!

What has changed now? Nothing much, and yet a lot! I am pretty much the same guy, with the same lifestyle. Each day I park my royal saet for a stretch of 8 hours, doing pretty much nothing, other than shooting the air, eat ( am sure those who see the act, would prefer to call it hog ) the same, “baahar ka khaana” and infact have stopped gyming for quite a while now! And yet, I Am Fat now!

It’s like an unstoppable juggernaut, this weight gaining of mine! And its like the best thing to have happened to me since multiplexes and pani puri. I was happy, overjoyed, as each day I got up a few pounds heavier than the day before. My happiness knew no bounds, until now!

What happened again?? I went shopping for some pants! Now as every guy / gal who has gone through the rigors of gaining all rounded health (pun intended) would know, the weight u gain is inversely proportional to the number of clothes in your wardrobe that fit you. So unable to avoid the ignobility of bulging through my clothes (in reality being unable to squeeze myself into even my night pajamas) I headed to this store. Ecstatic at having finally graduated to the ALL size section of the malls, there was a new verve to my walk (whatever the weight could allow me of course) as I approached the clothes stack. And then I froze!

Now what happened?? I didn’t fit in any of the clothes there!! Nothing in the ALL size fit my slender waist; nothing in the stacks was a tent big enough to cover me! Heartbroken, crestfallen, hiding myself from the stares of the tohers around in the shop, as I walked back home despondent and sad, all I could think of was that I have put on some extra kilos of late, or so I have now seen for myself.