Weight and Watch

Ask any woman if she is happy with her weight and nine out of ten would be not. Like those nine women, as I grew, had barely touched my teens, I became conscious of my weight. And I had been a painfully thin child, a malnourished child of parents who were not-so-thin. My mother had tried every trick in the book to enable me put on weight, but she didn't receive much success. However, as the teen years touched me, my health began to improve and so did my weight. Thanks to women magazines, where the world of women revolves around weight, I became conscious. I dutifully kept a tape and measured myself. My waist was an enviable 25 inches, and I think I was 14, but that was not good enough for me. How could I not have Scarlet-O-Hara's waist? The unachievable, unrealistic 18 inches. I would do aerobics, shun oil and potatoes and my favourite rice too to achieve that. Well, I had a bit of success, the waist shrank, it was 23 inches now. However, it wasn't good enough for me. Soon dieting had its impact. My beautiful tresses began to fall. And, along with multivits I was prescribed healthy diet. 

Weight watching was suspended, it wasn't forgotten though. School years kept  me busy, but college that was a different story altogether. There I was not the only one unhappy with weight. There were many like me, who were not the right weight and each had a weird diet plan. There were days I lived just on daal and veggies without roti or rice. How I managed is a surprise even today for me. I parted ways with rice, my comfort food and began to eat rajama, a good source of protein, but something that I had not eaten before, due to my Bihari upbringing. Naturally, my stomach revolted. Antacids helped but rice was forbidden. I would longingly inhale in the aroma or cooked rice wafting from the mess and struggle with lentils, because it was a source of protein. 

 Then, an innovative idea came. The brainwave occurred during discussion with one of the dieters. The solution was to puke after eating delicacies, particularly desserts. There was no need to watch what went in. Just two fingers on your tongue, with head bent and mouth open on the sink was enough to help you puke. The world is simple. You can have your cake and eat it too. My energy levels had depleted. The skin had lost its glow, still I would weigh my,self everyday before dinner.  Later after dinner too. Like a borderline anorexic, the mission in my life was to watch weight. Anything that went in was not a source of energy, nutrients to nourish me and the soul, rather calories, that would pile on me. Why was I so obsessed with my weight? 

As I write it today, I wonder about it, and the answer eludes me. May be just may be being in shape was the ticket to acceptance. Whether we agree or not, people who weigh on the higher side, have to hear observations, comments or suggestions on their weight. As an erstwhile obsessive weight watcher, I can say that this is what the person struggling with weight welcomes the least. However, coming back to my weight struggle, yoga bailed me out. While I was eating and throwing up and losing my sanity over each morsel, a yoga workshop happened for a month. The asanas learned brought back the lost sanity in me. Even today, whenever, I need to lose weight, strictly for health reason, I choose yoga and meditation. Like they say when your mind is in peace the rest follows.