“Are you pregnant?” quizzed the security personnel at the airport, casting a sideways glance at the protrusion in the mid section of my body. I moved my head from right to left 5 times in succession, to indicate my disapproval of the matter, rolling my eye balls in disbelief. I wanted to sit down with the security officer and explain to her that the bump she serendipitously attributed to a baby wiggling inside, is indeed carved by mounds of biriyani that I have consumed in my lifetime. “Biriyani bump, not baby!”, I wanted to scream, but for the push from the people behind, who were waiting for their assets to be examined and their bellies scrutinized and labelled.
I have been overweight for the past 15 odd years, and my abdomen single handedly manages to carry most of this load. Food is my weakness and biriyani of course, is an unstoppable addiction! I have waited for 15 years for someone to declare that there is a change in the BMI (body mass index) scale and that a BMI of 30 can be considered as underweight. If they could alter the baselines for blood pressure, why not for BMI?
Alas, all the wait is in vain!
Leading to further weight gain.
— Sowmini
Friends suggested hitting the gym. I dismissed this idea instantly, as it entailed removing myself from the couch, with whom I had developed an intimate bond. Any diet plan that banned biriyani was out of the question. Generations of Mughals and Persians had expended their sweat and blood, to infuse special flavors into the Indian cuisine; imagine all those efforts going down the drain, if biriyani aficionados across the sub continent were to go on a biriyani boycott! We are a race with a deep cultural and culinary heritage and each citizen must play his/her part to uphold this heritage. Indulging in frivolous diets may afflict the pride of our motherland.
There are very few forces in the world that can instigate a person to break his/her innate beliefs and habits. Body shaming is one of them! I had my fair share of experience with this demon, when I was toiling hard to shed some flab, post partum. T-shirts were being distributed to the team, by the HR in my organization, in an endeavor to keep up employee morale that year, and of course, to compensate for the absence of pay rise/bonus. The team leader who was coordinating this drive, remarked that they could not find a t-shirt that could cover my vast circumference! Though this was an excuse to cover up for the miss from his end to get XL sized clothing, it was trigger enough for me to pledge to fit into a medium sized garment, in the days to come.
As someone who takes her critics too seriously and strives to prove them wrong, I signed up for the weight loss challenge in the summer of 2013. Mid summer night’s dream, you may remark! But, I was determined to turn this dream into reality and parade the corridors of the office in a medium sized tee. The weeks that followed, saw me adopting a strict diet regimen of salads, sprouts, fruits and detox fluids. I also went for elaborate walks and jogs at the park near my office, much to the chagrin of my boss, who was secretly investigating the case of me missing at certain hours every day.
At the end of 5 long months of toil, my body fat melted away, creating room for medium sized clothes in my wardrobe. I walked past the team lead with a spring in my step and a scornful smile. I brimmed with pride and confidence at my ‘Mission Impossible’ feat. My colleagues and friends cheered me for this accomplishment and called for a celebration. We commemorated this success over plates of biriyani and glasses of beer. The celebrations went on for next few weeks and months, till my BMI revolved back to a sprightly 30.
Reduce. Rinse. Repeat!
