9. I am Fat, Imperfect and Real Foodie


Read sequel post, Humour is The Medicine for what ?

Today I went to the mall and I felt fat. Fat as in fat. Just fat. FAT. Say that loud with me to scare it away Ffffffaaaaaaatttttt…….

If you agree that you won’t tell this to anybody, I am willing to share, how much weight I accumulated in those 9 months of my life. How does it matter, at the end of the day?

It does yaar !

All the slim fit shirts, trousers, front buttoned sheer shirts, belts, high heels have gone on a vacation looking at my milching cow version. Leaving me all alone.

What I am left here with, some XXL kurtas, Patiala salwars, maternity gowns with all possible zips on right places, loose loose very loose t-shirts (like those middle class uncle with a paunch who go bonkers on the Goa beach looking at bikni clad firangs) ?

Shorts don’t look decent anymore. If I wear them now, they can be mistaken as something else or if by mistake i am caught in them gasping for fresh air. Moreover, there were so many people in the house, all i looked upto was for some me space and time, but its most elusive.

In India, a woman don’t give birth to a child. A complete household does that, false surrogacy you may name it.

Just picture this. In a 2BHK flat at one point of time, there were 12 fully grown people staying with 1 toddler and one new born. And this is when, we are not poor but we love to snuggle during wedding, child birth and thousands of other cultural ceremonies. And as you know, we are a nation of billion lazy bums. We practically hire a help for anything which goes beyond routine daily living skills, which include attending nature’s call, brushing your teeth, having a bath and then covering ourselves under cotton. With 14 living things in house, we had two more people in the name of support service. Our housemaid and cook.


My new best friend, a bunch of Holstein ! The 300 word limit is pulling my pyajama now, a quick gyaan – When the house is on fire, your weight doesn’t matter ! What matters is your ability to laugh on yourself and move on from paneer tikka masala to moong dal halwa…burppp !

To be continued…

PS : Watch my fav. song Lakh 28 kuri da 47 weight kuri da. Dilijit yo yo Honey Singh Lak thirty four mommy da, eighty five weight mommy da. Deaf Mamma yo yo Honey Singh !

Read my other posts from alphabet I

1-If Only I was Back from Dead (Weird, Love & Relationships)

This post is written for April A to Z Challenge 2014, serial number 402.


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