An Unwelcome Tenant

Woman on Scale

I’m wondering from where? From which corner, angle, street, house, alley, road, town, city, state, this fat came slithering down one day and attached itself to my body. It happened so surreptitiously. I swear! Such a magnificent trick in such a guileless fashion!

There I was gaily standing on the weighing scales, just by chance really, expecting not more than 58 kilos, I mean that’s the largest I’ve ever been…and then, to my utter disbelief I was told a number too stupendous for my childlike ears to contain. I gasped, stuttered and peered down to check. The thought, ‘Did I hear right?’ swiftly changed to ‘Do I see what I see?’

I squeezed my eyes shut, then very slowly opened them, and looked again, toward my feet that seemed so far down, at the number…that big, fat ugly number looked back at me, without any sense of decency, without the slightest trace of an apology!

“Are you sure this machine is accurate?” I asked the nurse who was still standing beside me.

“Oh, Yes!” she reassured me with a bright, complacent smile, “We keep the best scales in our hospital!”

Being a good, health abiding citizen, I was visiting my favourite hospital, (Sri Sri College of Ayurvedic Science & Research Hospital http://www.srisriayurvedahospital.org). Favourite, because when you visit you feel like you’re entering a temple cum wellness spa. Nestled on a hillock with a picturesque hill station view and climate to boot, it feels like the purrrrfect retreat….you just want to curl up and surrender yourself totally to the magical therapy and smiling, well mannered doctors and staff.

I’ve been suffering from stomach issues lately…wind erupting from the North & South portals, a heavy, bloated sensation accompanied with a burning, volcanic heat. I could picture a mini foundry with the toughest metals turning to liquid in my inner vaults!

Something had to be done. Quickly! Plus I needed to add some charm to my life, some change from being glued to my computer all day. And what could be better than to amble down the quaint cobbled road to moi favourite hospital? From my work table I get an eagle’s eye view of this charming nest, neatly sprawled out below.

photo (3)

I stepped out of my office and suddenly my world morphed into a sphere of green: soft green grass, tall sharp weeds, shrubs, creepers, parachute seeds, and curling tendrils…inviting, fragrant and sweet. I forgot my tired eyed that had been wrapped to my laptop screen and my burning, bloaty stomach as my consciousness expanded, did a test flight and blew far away.

Looks like I rambled off, back to the beginning. Where was I? Did I say ‘Where’?

cookies

I turn the Oreo wrapper and read: manufactured in Mrs. Bectors Food Specialities limited (though really they create unlimited editions), Theing Road, Phillaur – 144 410, District Jalandhar, Punjab. So I’ve traced one fat culprit! I have a mind to call Mrs. Bectors and tell her to stop tempting me with these things she sweetly bakes in her factory!

Where else? Some of the lard certainly got accumulated when I was in Hyderabad. My meals, which I walloped with relish, mostly consisted of annam (boiled rice) with pachadi (red chilly & garlic pickle) and peragu (curd) with some very oily, spicy and delicious veggies on the side. Hmm. Those were carefree, happy days, and every day I had the same magical dishes placed before me, and never did I tire of those lavish treats.

Of recent days, an indiscriminate consumption of Oreo biscuits (Twist, Lick, Dunk – into a tantalizing glass of chilled milk), ice-creams, cakes, potato crisps, peanut chikkis…not that I’ve ever bothered to buy those (except the Oreo), people have generously treated me to these long forgotten treats, and how difficult it is to say ‘No’ to someone who is offering you these off-the-shelf delights with such LOVE!

Who am I to blame? The manufacturers with their deceitful advertising gimmicks – ‘vacuum packed, healthy, non-fried snack’ –my friends, my stomach, my readiness to say ‘yes’ to everything and my inability to say ‘no’ at the cost of my own discomfort?

Hmm. That requires some thinking!

I drop the blame game, and decide to follow the doctor’s prescription: that’s easier (I hope) and more effective (for sure)!! (( ;

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