Holi pictures circled the family emails last week. I kept looking at them over and over again with the same expression and thought in mind: ” Oh my god, I am soooo fat!”
I dimissed the thought as a figment of my overstressed over-worked brain thinking that I was going through that phase of anorexia where every body part seemed fatter than usual. But then the bombs dropped. One after the other.
I should have taken the hint right away when the first thing B’s mom said when she met me last year was: “Photo main kaafi patli dikh rahi thi” Imagine if these were the first words you heard from your extremely sweet future mother-in-law. It hits hard in the gut. I thought that maybe those pictures from Didi’s wedding were flattering and maybe I had just looked a wee bit too thin then. I dismissed the thought and didn’t think much of it. It has come back to haunt me, every minute now.
The subject of Holi pictures was broached by one of my cousins last night. He thought that the pictures looked like an advertisement for the obese face of growing Indians in the US! “its like all of you were competing for the chubbiest face contest.” Sadly, it was true. To make matters worse, this morning at work two people told me I was gaining weight. One of them was a customer, so I gladly sent her home with a smile on my roly-poly face. The other was not spared. Azzie*, a very nice Morrocan gentleman at work was talking to Katie*.I happened to pass by when he said in a very thick Morrocan accent, “K, you seem to be getting faatter.” I wanted to dig a hole right there and bury myself. If looks could kill, the look in my eye that minute would have fried him. Realizing his folly, he immediately corrected himself, “No no,I mean you are now looking even preettieeeer. Real wemin have corves you know.” The damage was done. Azzie tried to make amends by smiling and remembering everything good that he could think about me, to no avail.
I still remember the medical/physical test that every immigrant to US has to go through. At that physical five years ago, the Parsi doctor at Breach Candy hospital said to me in her stern voice. “Dikra, you are underweight and you want to go to US?” She was checking my BMI(body mass index) that fell under “Underweight” category. Just on whim today, I checked my BMI and sure enough, it fell smack dab in the middle of the “Overweight” category.I let out a cry and as mom came over my shoulder to see what I was doing, she exclaimed: “Huh, atleast you are not obese.” Sure! The glass is half full. Literally.
5 years and 50 lbs (23kgs) is what I have accomplished since that BMI test at Breach Candy, Mumbai. Somehow, I don’t remember those years when I used to fall under the “Normal” category. I am not one of those to go completely anorexic and starve myself because I do love food! Having a palate for all kinds of food doesn’t help either. However, I have come to realize that I neeed to do something about it. Not get to the point where I am vain and all I care about is how thin I am, but atleast to the point where I am not competing for Ms Roly Poly award.
New resolution added to this years list (a first): Lose weight and get to a “Normal BMI”
The good news is that I now have an excuse to explain my procrastination with not blogging, finishing up taxes, getting off the couch, not doing all things and sundry. Buahaha! Who said I was not positive about this?