The "normal" Indian woman and the D word

No no no. Stop before you think too much...it ain't 36 DD or any other D of the same genre I am referring to. But now that I have your attention, what the heck!

And my definition of "normal" Indian woman is -

Not a model (and with no aspirations to be one)
Not a movie star (and no such aspirations either)
Educated
Working (aspirations don't matter...bloodsucker of a job!)
Living in a metropolitan or one of the new "pretend" metropolitans (e.g Bangalore, Hyderabad, Pune etc)
Life rapidly progressing from active huff-puff of a university student to the sedentary sighs and yawns of a person with a sitting job (like sitting 10 hours a day)
Earns well (relatively)
Spends better (absolutely)
Unmarried, single, zero relationships (don't know if that is due to lack of interesting people to meet or lack of time, a constant state of burn out and no enthusiasm for anything other than crashing on the bed and snoring away as soon as she gets home)

Can you now begin to guess what the D word is? Yes? Clever you! No? Let me continue the foreplay for some more time in that case.

Living the stressful, sedentary, unproductive life our "normal" woman lives, she soon finds herself on the...let's say, out of decency....voluptuous side of the spectrum. (Nah...the metabolism isn't really what it used to be at 18. Really, office formals can be so deceiving. )

She immediately joins the poshest health club in town.It claims to have an Olympic sized pool (which is "under construction"/"closed indefinitely for cleaning"/"closed indefinitely for inspection by the health officers"/any other reason). It claims to have an organic juice bar ("but that's open between 5:30 am in the morning to7 am"...our heroine goes in at 7:30 am.), a steam and sauna facility (come on, this one works...you cannot already be thinking nothing works in posh Indian health clubs!), plus many other latest gizmos, amenities and magical secrets to give you a body Claudia Schiffer can kill for.

The first thing our "normal" woman notices on her first day (for which she has virtually bought an entire Reebok shop. Or is Puma more in fashion these days?) is that the people who come to that health club are lycra and spanx clad lassies and hunky, beefy, muscular lads - who do not seem to be in any need of the services a health club offers.

Our lady reasons out her observations in the following manner:

a. What the %$@#. Life is unfair.
b. Ah! This is what I too will look like within six months of my rigorous training schedule.
c. Wow! Inspiration. (not only for exercising, also for latest trends in gymwear)
d. If not anything else, at least I am starting my morning in a holistic environment with gorgeous people around me.
e. What if I meet someone really interesting?
f. What the %$@#. Life is unfair.

                **********************************************************

A month later.

Voluptuousness - pretty much the same
Tired - like a washerman's donkey (wasn't exercise supposed to make her feel energetic? Oddly enough, it doesn't)
Set of gym clothes - around 5 (sweaty, stinky, wash repeatedly)
Number of days she went to the health club - 15
Number of days she skipped going - 15 (those 4/5 days of the month, early meeting at office, late night meeting at office, don't feel like going, working on important assignment from home, don't feel like going,body full of aches and pains, getting late for office, it's raining, it's too sunny, it's too cold, it's too pleasant, don't feel like going, friends at home for a weekend....and well, just don't feel like going. Not going to become a model anyway....what's the....YAWN....point?)

So what next? Clubbing and gyming clearly weren't our lady's cup of tea. Or decaf coffee...no sugar, no cream.

NEXT ON THE AGENDA IS THE D WORD.

DIETING.

Defined by Wikipedia as - "the practice of eating food in a regulated fashion to achieve or maintain a controlled weight."

LIARS!

Controlled weight???? CONTROLLED WEIGHT??? The very need for dieting comes from the fact that the weight is OUT OF CONTROL!

Having chirpy and eager girlfriends fed on a steady diet of glossy women's magazines helps our lady to zone in on what's latest in the D world, across the world.

Atkins Diet. Pritikin Diet. South Beach Diet. Jenny Craig Diet. Weight Watchers Diet. Sea Weed Diet. Raw Diet. Starve-yourself-to-death diet (OK I made that one up) Negative calorie diet. Zero Calorie diet. GI diet. Detox diet. Mediterranean Diet. Ornish diet. Zone Diet. Gluten free diet. Rosemary Conley's Hip and Thigh diet (now I am laughing myself silly...but no I haven't made this one up).

One says stuff up on proteins, another says stuff up on fats only when you think you are dying, yet another encourages you to gobble everything up raw (consuming an ample load of microbes and pesticides seems to be a part of this diet), another wants to shock your body into starvation and yet another says starvation leads to fat storage. One says eat whatever you want and then gives you a list of food items even your dog won't sniff . One wants to change the ph in your body to alkaline and the other claims an acidic body resists infections. One wants you to go Italiano (though you live in Maharashtra or Andhra Pradesh in India) and the other would like you to weed out the sea floor and gulp down the muck.

But our "normal" Indian lady being eagerly committed to her plans of dieting is not deterred. Something can be surely worked out from this labyrinth of ideas.Visits to the poshest dietitian in the city, flipping through glossies and talking to girlfriends result in one common plan.

Salads.
Whole grains and seeds.
Lean protein.
Boiled Vegetables
Low fat skimmed milk in some form or the other, except butter and cheese.And Ice cream. And cream. And rich, full fat yogurt. (wonder what that some form or the other is?)
Fruits (except bananas)

NO COLA. NO PIZZA. NO PASTA. NO BURGER. NO FRENCH FRIES. NO CHOCOLATES. NO SWEETS.NO ALU PARATHA DRIPPING WITH DESI GHEE. NO BIRYANI. NO KORMA. NO KEBABS. NO WHITE RICE. NO PRAWNS. NO LOBSTERS.NO SEA FISH. NO LAMB. NO CRAB. NO POTATOES. NO BEETROOTS. NO OKRAS. NO WAFERS. NO BAKERY PRODUCTS.

AND NO CHEATING!!

BASICALLY NOTHING.

But this gutsy girl is still determined and has to plan precisely to avoid falling into the common trap "I ran out of veggies and had instant noodles. Just once."

So she logs in to the net and writes out her list of diet food to buy.

Later at the local vegetable market, reading out her list she sounds like someone who's shouting out exotic swear words to the irritated vegetable vendor.

Lollo Rosso lettuce? No? Iceberg lettuce? No? Romaine Lettuce? No? Radicchio? No? Red Oak Lettuce? No? Lollo Biondi lettuce? NO NO NOT ROSSO...THAT WAS THE FIRST ONE ON THE LIST. BIONDI? No. Lollo verde? OK I GET IT, NO LOLLOS. Batavia lettuce? No?

Watercress? No it's not a lettuce. It's simply watercress. No?

Let's try chinese. How about Pak choy and galangal? No I do not want spinach and ginger. See, the list says Pak Choy and Galangal. No?

Shallots? (I DO NOT MEAN ONIONS. KYLIE KWONG KEEPS CALLING THEM SHALLOTS ALL THE TIME ON THE TRAVEL CHANNEL.) No?

Ok. Let's try tomatoes. Cherry tomatoes? Not cherry the fruit. No? Grape tomatoes? No. Plum tomatoes? NO NO  NO...I KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CHERRIES AND PLUMS AND GRAPES AND TOMATOES.

To cut a very long shopping spree short, all our lady brings home that day is cucumber. Plain, simple, normal cucumber.

And a cup of double cream caramel coffee at the local coffee shop. Come on, who doesn't get tired after veggie shopping?

Cucumbers are good. Nice and juicy and cool and watery. Lots and lots of cucumbers.Crunchy. Ummm. Crunch. Munch.

Well.

After having nothing but a plate full of cucumbers for lunch, for three days in a row our lady reasons out that it really won't be too bad to have a real thick, smooth chocolate mousse.And anyway she is on a strict diet. And one is human after all. Why would have God created the cocoa beans of the cacao plant if chocolate was that bad? Come on, who can question God's creation?

After the raw food detox is over, our heroine is supposed to eat boiled, blanched and steamed veggies. Or ever so slightly sauteed in olive oil. Do you have any idea how much good quality virgin olive oil costs in India? Well, a lot. It's a delicacy, to be tossed on ornate, colorful salads when friends come over. Not something to cook your meals in. We have Sundrop Sunflower Oil for that. Thank you very much!

And boiled, blanched or steamed veggies? They taste like hot glue. Boiled socks. Old jute sack. (please do not ask me how I know what hot glue, boiled socks and old jute sacks taste like.)

Boiled lean undressed chicken tastes like a wad of leather.

Low fat yogurt is neither here nor there. It's non existent. It is nothing. (what is yogurt if it cannot make you swoon with its rich creaminess?)

And what the hell do they mean by low fat cheese? That's the biggest oxymoron ever. The hugest double standard. Cheese...low fat. Those two do not go together. IT IS A CRIME.

Our lady's lady friends at office inform her enthusiastically that a new salad bar is up and coming in the office cafeteria.

When it finally does come up, all it serves is raw vegetables (cabbage, broccoli, bell pepper, tomatoes, cucumbers and the like) choking to death in a gloop of low quality (not low calorie) mayonnaise and blue cheese dressing. Oh! the salad bar also serves fruit juice. Packaged. Artificially sweetened. With preservatives galore in every sip. Yummy!

Her perusals through endless issues of Cosmopolitans and Prevention mags tell her that sea weed soup and quinoa seeds are the latest in thing. They are bound to work.

Though she knows she is going to be disappointed, the first trip is again to the local veggie shop.

"Bhaiyya, samundar ke neeche jo ghaas patte ugte hain, woh milega?" our girl asks.

(lemme translate that for you. "Do you stock the grasses and leaves that grow under the sea?")

This time he doesn't even bother to reply. He is more comfortable selling potatoes, onions and pumpkins to the benign looking normal people.

"Normal" woman asks around at office. Where do you think I can buy sea weed? What for? People shoot back. Bio fuel research?

Funny! Yes. It is a part of my diet. Bio fuel indeed!

Others tell her that sea weeds are used for industrial production of agar (that jelly like thingy microbiologists grow bacterial colonies on) and other similar horrible smelling things.

A friend suggests the Godrej Nature's Basket store (in one remote corner of the city) and specifically their "World Food" section.

Ummm....world food! Sounds so cool and fancy that this will surely work. I mean how can something that sounds as classy as world food not work!

It works. They have sea weed. For human consumption. Just that the price is printed in Euros.That one packet will set our girl back by around 2000 bucks in Indian rupees.

And it will last her for three seaweed soups.

Still, what has to be done has to be done. These are marginal costs. And she really earns well and spends better.
She buys it, comes home and cooks good ol' home style soup. Ah! The very sight of soup simmering away in a pot in the kitchen is so comforting.

The taste however,is a different story altogether. Have you ever imagined eating slimy, slippery, gooey algae which is an evil shade of green in color?
(Now, I know normal, mentally sound people do not imagine such things. But still, try imagining once?)
Yeah. That's right. Yes...that's exactly what it's like.

The next day it is the best friend's birthday and really, cribbing about food at someone else's party is not the done thing. It's horrible manners. So a large piece of the richest chocolate cake, mac and cheese, a big glass of the fizziest cola, butter garlic prawns and deep fried chicken nuggets is all she has. Later some ice cream.

It's ok. It is absolutely fine. God knows it was the best friend's birthday. And anyway, one is on a diet.

The dietitian goes ballistic listening to our lady's one time fling with non diet food.

"Do you know how much motivation this requires? How do you think all the actresses stick to their diets?"

The culprit who is the victim of her own crime hangs her head in shameful silence. But that's just out of politeness. She has the answer ready inside her head.

"If I was offered a million bucks, a foreign location shoot with the best looking actor, endless red carpet walks and unending attention in return for giving up food and living on grass and fresh air I too would be highly motivated."

                                ********************************************

And over the next few months our girl continues shelling out insane amounts of money and energy in pursuit of insane tasting food. Diet food.

Just that, she now feels sleepy in office most of the time. And when she is taking calls from home and sitting in front of the laptop typing away furiously until 3 am, coffee is the only lifesaver, no matter what the diet chart says about coffee. It lies. Coffee is good. It keeps your eyes open even when you want to die.

She starts to avoid going out with friends for the fear of being forced to consume non diet normal people food. Such accidents have happened in the past and she doesn't want to repeat the same mistake. So best is not going anywhere near the source of temptation.
The peachy glow on her face is gone and the bright sparkle in her eyes is dull almost beyond recognition. She looks unintelligent and always in a state of unrest. She looks stupid.

The clothes have started hanging slightly loose, though.

With the last remaining vestiges of motivation and spirit, our educated, working, juggling-ten-things-at-a-time, "normal" Indian woman who is still single, goes to the next level.

Quinoa seeds. Read Keen-Wah (psst...it is the latest buzzword. All the B-town beauties are hogging quinoa like there is no tomorrow).
It's a psuedo cereal, it's actually a seed, the friend who is doing her PhD in botany informs our girl. But it's supposedly very good.

Good? Good, my foot! One, it's hardly available. Even in the superstores. Two, it looks like Styrofoam granules.

And three....soak it for sometime and cook it....and ta da! you have something that has a 99.78% resemblance to frog spawn sitting in front of you, waiting to be consumed.

Ok...well...to be very fair, it doesn't taste as bad. It's kind of nutty and creamy and fluffy and everything. But it is nothing to a bowl of sugar frosted, chocolate coated, artificially sweetened, breakfast cereal!

(NB - THIS ARTICLE DOESN'T END HERE....DO CARRY ON READING AFTER THE LITTLE HUMOROUS BREAK.)

                     
                                  ************************************************

Six months pass by.

Our lady hasn't had one fizzy drink. One tiny piece of macaroni. One thin slice of cake.

But she has understood this.

Dieting is like widowhood. You are so numbed by the pain of loss that nothing matters anymore. What you are putting inside your mouth, what you are chewing, what you are swallowing is of little consequence. Because the one thing you loved, you truly dearly loved is gone forever. Life will never be the same again. You will never be able to go back to those days of happiness.

Your relationship with food is over. The aromas, the colours, the fragrances mean nothing to you.

Your mind is dull to pain.

Your taste buds are now useless. Mutated. Vestigial organs.

You are brain dead. Almost.

Our heroine is, at any rate.

That is until, one bright Saturday morning, while out to hunt for more sea weed, more quinoa, more raw veggies and lean chicken, she makes the wonderful decision of stopping by the local magazine stand.

Loudly, boldly, in the most vivid eye catching colors, the latest edition of the glossy that had been feeding diet tips to our girl for so many months, shouts out in the boldest possible print

"THIN IS OUT. CURVY IS IN"
"REAL MEN WANT REAL WOMEN"
"SHOW US THOSE CURVES, LADY"
"LOVE THAT CURVE"

Damn it!

%$#@$! &*^%! %$&#!

For lunch today - Prawns tenderly simmered in a spicy coconut cream gravy with fragrant white Basmati rice.
You are invited!

*******************************************************************************

P.S - Thank you for taking time out from your busy schedule and reading my blog.

 If you are enjoying reading these articles, may I request you to please follow this blog by signing into Blogger with your Google ID and share the link to any article that you like the most here - on Facebook, Twitter, Google plus and any other social media you may be using...so your friends can visit too? :)
I am a new author and I would be grateful for any kind of encouragement from my readers. It is a tough world out there for new authors!
Thanks once again! Hope you love reading my articles as much as I loved writing them!