"I am soooooooooo fat. I just hate hate hate hate hate how I look. I hate to look at myself!!"
Really, how could I let myself go like this? I thought back to the wedding and the dance we girls put on for the guests. All of us dressed like Kerela fisher women with skimpy blouses and saris tied up tight at the waist. How hot everyone looked, some of them mothers of three! Slim and trim as if they were in college and me hovering around looking like every one's middle-aged aunt. To make matters worse, someone decided it would be real nice to send videos of the dance to all the participants. Now it is a well known fact that the TV adds on at least five kilos but something told me that it was no TV illusion, just my pathetic head-in-the-sand consolation as I watched the action replay of my humiliation. And so as I unpacked all my over-sized kurtas and extra-large salwar kameezes I thought - "Good God, something must be done woman!"
|Plump and round at my brother's wedding. That |
choker just about fit.
And then two weeks later, the scale moved - I was lighter by one kilo. And that changed everything! Could it be that all this hard-work and sacrifice was actually working? I was so kicked, I was ready to get myself a hot little two piece and prance around the pool flaunting my imaginary flat stomach. Ok, not quite, but it motivated me enough to stay on the programme for another two weeks and by the end of November I was 69 kilos. I didn't look any different, my clothes didn't fit me better, no one noticed any change in my appearance but... I felt absolutely FANTASTIC! I was in it for the long haul.
First there were all the festivals. I had decided to diet through Diwali, Christmas and Easter. And each time everyone around me would say something like "Have this sweet, its so fabulous", or, "Sunehra you are really missing heaven on a plate", or, "come on, one little barfi isn't going to make a difference." I somehow resisted the impulse to profusely thank such kind well-wishers for their support as they presented all forms of temptation to me. I also managed to avoid telling them that they didn't have the faintest idea of how much of a difference one barfi would make. Instead I took the high road and blatantly lied. "No I'm so stuffed, I just couldn't eat another bite" was my most favoured response.