When an unstoppable force (a ladoo craving) meets an immovable object (an obese punjabi kid), the result is an obnoxious lard, who sits on the bedroom couch (with an ass impression that would humble the grand canyon), PSP in hand, shouting out for "Chotu" to get him some cheese balls (with a kind of desperation that would be reminiscent of a man trapped in an inferno).
Yes maybe, not stuffing that last morsel of food in his mouth has actually made the putar kamzor, but that's a drop in the ocean, which only dadi's ageing eyes can spot.
Maybe, I'm being a bit hypocritical. Back in the day, I was a fat ('halthy') kid, who could polish off 10-15 dosas in one go, without breaking a sweat. My after school favourite was moong ki daal-chawal (Harmless right??). Except, my version was called 'shooo ki daal-chawal' (and my sister and I would only eat it once mum had put enough ghee in the dal, for it to make a 'shooo' sound). If that made some of you sick in the stomach, I do apologise.
Primary School was awesome, with me being picked first in a kabaddi side, and having my classmates flock around me and my fancy tiffin contents during recess (their drool enough to make a barren desert fertile).
By Secondary School, their fascination with my tiffin was replaced by the length of Akanksha's skirt. However, my acrobatic abilities (or lack thereof) still weren't found out, courtesy me covering most of the goal and not letting the ball go through.
Realisation however, kicked in, when in senior school, the first girl who I had a crush on (yes, had to be a girl somewhere) grilled my aspirations of dating her, like the beef jerkey I had eaten for lunch that day. At that point, it was clear that my '8' figure was not a perfect '10' with the ladies. My athletic achievements had also taken a hit, when I didn't make it through the auditions for our school mascot. However, much to my amusement, every time I would visit a distant relative or family friend. 'main kamzor ho gaya hota tha'.
My "growing age", lasted quite a while (with my pot belly, being the only constant growth).
By hook or by crook (but mostly by firing Shyam, the cook) I lost most of the weight.
The current picture is not very rosy though, 'mere face par koi glow nahin hai', ' main apne Englaaaaand waley cousin se height mein maat kha gaya' and apart from my underpriviledged 3 meals a day 'main kuch nahin khata'. All I have is a healthy heart and the ability to walk ten paces in less than an hour (FML).
Par knowing my Punjabi genes, this bleak situation is only temporary. For I have promises to keep, and portions of butter chicken to have before I sleep.
Yes maybe, not stuffing that last morsel of food in his mouth has actually made the putar kamzor, but that's a drop in the ocean, which only dadi's ageing eyes can spot.
Maybe, I'm being a bit hypocritical. Back in the day, I was a fat ('halthy') kid, who could polish off 10-15 dosas in one go, without breaking a sweat. My after school favourite was moong ki daal-chawal (Harmless right??). Except, my version was called 'shooo ki daal-chawal' (and my sister and I would only eat it once mum had put enough ghee in the dal, for it to make a 'shooo' sound). If that made some of you sick in the stomach, I do apologise.
Primary School was awesome, with me being picked first in a kabaddi side, and having my classmates flock around me and my fancy tiffin contents during recess (their drool enough to make a barren desert fertile).
By Secondary School, their fascination with my tiffin was replaced by the length of Akanksha's skirt. However, my acrobatic abilities (or lack thereof) still weren't found out, courtesy me covering most of the goal and not letting the ball go through.
Realisation however, kicked in, when in senior school, the first girl who I had a crush on (yes, had to be a girl somewhere) grilled my aspirations of dating her, like the beef jerkey I had eaten for lunch that day. At that point, it was clear that my '8' figure was not a perfect '10' with the ladies. My athletic achievements had also taken a hit, when I didn't make it through the auditions for our school mascot. However, much to my amusement, every time I would visit a distant relative or family friend. 'main kamzor ho gaya hota tha'.
My "growing age", lasted quite a while (with my pot belly, being the only constant growth).
By hook or by crook (but mostly by firing Shyam, the cook) I lost most of the weight.
The current picture is not very rosy though, 'mere face par koi glow nahin hai', ' main apne Englaaaaand waley cousin se height mein maat kha gaya' and apart from my underpriviledged 3 meals a day 'main kuch nahin khata'. All I have is a healthy heart and the ability to walk ten paces in less than an hour (FML).
Par knowing my Punjabi genes, this bleak situation is only temporary. For I have promises to keep, and portions of butter chicken to have before I sleep.
