ArHi SS: Weight of the world - Chapter 3: Pg 18, 01-June - Page 7

Forgot to bookmark this... Interesting topic :)

Okay, so, I am your khushi. I was there in the school corridor swallowing the humiliation. I have seen anil in my life. I don't know how you have planned this story. Today, after 28 years of living with obesity, with my Arnav by my side and an aarav too, I still go through the subtle and not so subtle reference to my condition everywhere around me, very hurtful.

Originally posted by: Viji79

As a geneticist, when someone passes a hurtful comment, I want to tell them that obesity is just another genetic environment disorder like diabetes and hypertension. But I also know that, since this condition has been forever associated with eating, no amount of gyan is going to change the way the world looks at us - gluttons.

Thanks for penning this story.

Not everyone is a glutton and its something that people need to be educated on. And sometimes overeating is a serious addiction in lieu of any other substance abuse. People find different ways to relieve their stress and anxiety. Reaching out for a bag of chips seems innocuous but it has a long term impact..

Chapter 2: A betrayed girl

Being in a busy city consumed much of her time in commuting and she didn't know anyone who enjoyed commuting as much as she did. Her company gave her a car and chose to hire a driver to get her to and from her work instead of driving on her own. With her driver calling in sick, she was relying on taxis for the week.

"But madam, that's the long route to where you want to go," the taxi driver interjected quickly when Khushi asked him to take a different route.

Khushi smiled at the genuine concern laced in the driver's voice. It felt nice to interact with a man trying to make an honest living and being sincere about it. "I am aware of that bhaiyya, but I do want to take that route."

The driver shrugged and when he didn't take the turn he was supposed to, Khushi knew they were taking a different route home. Over the years in her career she had learnt many different ways to deal with stress; the stress that came with the kind of work she did, the anxiety of anticipating results, dealing with overbearing assholes and in general the toll a day ended up taking on her because she existed in that moment in that time. She had felt the need to get that stress and office related emotions in control or dealt with before she stepped inside the house. In the early days of her career, she went days without smiling at home after coming home from work, drawing worried look from her parents and sister. The short and clipped answers had made her mother take several steps back and deal with her wearing kid gloves. She had felt a spasm inside her when one Sunday she found her family treating her carefully as if she was a house guest and not a family member. It had taken several days to get a decent answer out of her mother who had simply said, "We didn't want you to feel anymore strained than you already were at office." She had burst into tears in the privacy of her washroom at the way she was psychologically raising boundaries around her and thus inflicting misplaced sense of alienation to her family. Taking the long and scenic route was one of the ways to relieve the pungent emotions that engulfed her over the course of day and be free of any lingering toxic thoughts.

"Drive a little slower," she said rolling the windows down. The taxi driver silently obliged and took of his leg from accelerator.

Khushi placed her arms on the window sill and rested her chin on it. The gentle breeze from gulmohar trees and their plush foliage relaxed the tension that was settled between her eyebrows. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She gently coaxed the pockets of stress settled between her muscles, slowly moving towards her bones, out of her body. The long road was filled with trees that were older than the city and was less traveled due to lack of entertainment or ateliers or eateries in the surrounding area. The calm residential area was much ignored by daily commuters but for Khushi, it was a quick stop-by for a fast detoxification.

She smiled inwardly when the driver rolled his windows down and relaxed his back.

"I can see why you wanted to come here," he said softly as if he was disturbing art in progress. He looked out of the window, hiding his embarrassment for speaking freely to a lady customer.

"It's calming, isn't it?" Khushi replied equally soft, not taking her eyes off the road. "When the world seems too small and your own skin feels too tight, take a walk or a drive here. For few minutes forget the suffocation, the problems plaguing constantly at the back of your mind and break free from the modesty of your own undoing." The driver doesn't respond and Khushi doesn't mind the silence she gets in return.

They are two strangers sharing a simple moment in life that doesn't involve words or emotions. It is just being alive and chanced upon a path to walk on together for handful of moments.

Khushi smilingly obliges when the driver thrusts a small piece of paper, hastily torn from a pocket diary with his number scribbled on it with a blunt pencil. "In case you are stuck somewhere and don't get a taxi..." He had trailed and hadn't met her eyes.

Impulsively she handed him a gift bag that contained pleasant smelling body mist, nail polish, lipstick and handful of chocolates. A colleague had passed gift bags around the office after returning from a successful business trip.

"Madam..." He asked, eyes wide.

She shrugged. "I saw a picture of you with your family on the dashboard. Something for the kids and wife," she smiled.

The driver nodded with a grateful acceptance and insisted on his earlier request. For all the fuss people made about narcissism and endless greed, there sure were genuinely nice folks who lived an old way of life that didn't include extorting a fellow human being just because they were in a position to do so.

*****

Her bua, Manorama, lived few hours away from the city. Being single for most part of her life, Khushi's father was the only family she had left. Khushi and her family visited their aunt whenever they could to take a break from the city and to spend time with their fairly lonely bua for couple of days. As everyone had their own thing to do over the weekend, they rarely visited their aunt as a complete unit. Most of the time it was just their parents driving down with Payal and Khushi going there the next weekend. Sometimes Payal and Khushi went alone as and when their schedules allowed them. It was one such weekend where was Khushi who was alone at home while her parents and her sister were out for the weekend.

Khushi breathed out a sigh of relief when she found herself in an empty house. She hopped into shower, vigorously scrubbing the grime of the city, residual perfume and flaky moisturizer. She groaned in appreciation when the hot water spray hit her back. Anil's words were back on her mind and after years of hearing similar words in fiction, media and often to her face, it didn't hurt as much as it did once. She had taken clinical detachment route. She washed the words away with scented soap and healthy arrogance about herself. She liked who she had grown up to be and the balefully ignorant lines thrown at her bounced off her as she appreciated herself more and evolved as a person.

She stepped out of the shower guiltily as some statistics ran in the back of her mind about the water she had just spent. Toweling her hair dry, she idly mused if she had all the ingredients for the latest recipe posted by "CookingWithMyCactus". The recipe itself was a gentle pick-me-up for a rough day when emotions strung high and the bones ached with old memories. Playing the video again, she rummaged through kitchen and found all the ingredients needed. Smiling, she got to work. Arnav, also known as "CookingWithMyCactus" starts his video with a silly joke as usual and then goes on listing the ingredients. His husky voice fills her kitchen as she gets to work, her actions mirroring his own as they try to conceive a minimalistic dish that promises comfort and hug. Arnav calls the dish an electric blanket on a particularly chilly day when hot chocolate fails to soothe your bruised soul'. Arnav always gave two names to the recipes he posted video for. One was "boring and ordinary with half the ingredients listed in title" name and the other was "fun, real and meaningful" name.

She had subscribed to his channel on YouTube when he called "Nutella stuffed cookies" as "Make this for your wife and have sex on kitchen floor - cookie." That was eighteen months ago and Arnav was only five videos old on YouTube.

Apart from YouTube channel, Arnav had his own website where he uploaded videos and interacted with his subscribers directly. Apart from posting videos, he wrote about random topics that made him more real in the eyes of his subscribers and not some wannabe chef looking for quick fame.

Their interaction had begun with Khushi commenting on his videos in detail on YouTube to which he had responded. He was fairly new to the whole YouTube thing and was still in process of sorting his website. He had welcomed her comments that were filled with equal parts of information, critique, sarcasm and wit. He had responded in equal fervor which had both delighted and surprised Khushi. She continued to comment on his videos to which he responded keeping most of his responses private where he bemoaned mindless trolls who trolled his channel just because some video descriptions had words "sex" and "orgasm". He had encouraged her to try some of the simpler recipes after coming to know about her inexperience in kitchen and she had caved to his insistence couple of months after their first interaction. She had jokingly posted picture of her preparation using one of his simpler recipes on his website. Arnav had called her out in his next video with a cheeky smile. That had them exchanging emails soon after, and had further led to a decent online companionship. This companionship never crossed the boundaries of their privacy. Neither exchanged their location or even their last names. He was Arnav or ASR as he was fondly called by some after he was seen donning a chef's apron with "ASR" written in curly writing. She however stayed Khushi.

Initially, the topic in their emails surrounded around food, recipes and anecdotes about food. With time the topics slowly diversified to books and movies. She sometimes spoke about the places she was traveling to which he responded with some recommendation of local cuisine she ought to try. Few weeks into their email correspondence, Khushi requested Arnav to readjust his recipes with ingredients offering lesser calories for those, who like her, were counting the intake of calories without compromising on taste. A couple of months later Arnav had started a segment exclusively for those who were working on their diets. The evolution of their companionship online was a slow and steady one. From writing once in a fortnight, they were now writing two to three times a week. Unknowingly, Arnav had become a friend and he hadn't even seen her once.

As expected, the result of her creation is stellar and Khushi takes a picture of it and posts it on Arnav's website. She knows there will be a response to that picture within twenty four hours and not immediate. They were busy people and neither expected and immediacy in communication. She found that thought comforting.

*****

"Payal, where the f**k is this place? I have been wandering around this area for thirty minutes already and no one seems to know about it." Khushi barked on the phone. She was met with crunching sound of chips being chewed and soda being gulped. Payal took her time to reply, grating on Khushi's patience.

"I don't know exactly where it is okay? It is supposed to be this really old place where they make these awesome mithai that are super traditional or something. It seems no one knows how to make those sweets anymore and I kind of want to surprise mom and dad next week." Khushi sighed. Payal was smart enough to play the emotional card fully knowing Khushi would get sucked into it further and will ensure that the job was done.

"It's my first weekend in weeks when I don't have pending work to do Payal and here I am roaming in this old and dusty part of the city for a dessert shop that probably doesn't exist." Khushi grumbled loudly.

Payal wasn't below begging. "Please please please please please. I am on my knees Khushi."

Khushi pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the headache from spreading. The dust and heat were making cranky and incorrect directions to her destination was playing on her temper.

"Fine." Khushi said and hung up without giving Payal a chance to respond. She would find the damn place and get those stupid sweets for Payal, she decided. After twenty more minutes of wrong turns, wrong directions and misspelled road names, she finally found the place Payal was bragging about. It was a small hole in the wall sort of a shop. She knew well enough not to judge book by its cover but this time she wondered if that judgment would hold good. It wasn't much of a shop but a house with a sign on display above the door. For a moment she briefly wondered if it was all a huge prank planned by Payal and her friends or worse, a front of some low grade mafia.

Her irritation trumped paranoia in the end. If she died badly, she decided she would haunt Payal on a daily basis. If things went sideways, well, she would deal with it when it came. When she opened the door, the first face she was familiar and very well known to her. She had seen the face not less than twelve hours ago.

"Arnav?" She blurted.

"I am sorry, do I know you?" Arnav replied politely.

Khushi laughed nervously and shrugged helplessly. This was so not the way she was hoping to meet Arnav one day. They never talked about exchanging phone numbers let alone meet face to face but if that ever happened, it wouldn't be anywhere close to a place like this.

*****

"Is this the first time you are meeting one of your subscribers?" Khushi asked, sipping cool buttermilk.

After Khushi had introduced herself, Arnav had ushered her up the stairs leading to a big room with red-oxide flooring polished to the point of being shiny. The room was sparsely furnished with few mats strewn across the floor. He had collapsed on one and pointed Khushi to the one opposite to him. Wordlessly Khushi had obliged.

A young boy had followed them few minutes later with tall glasses of buttermilk for them.

Arnav chuckled at her question. "Let's not pretend we share a simple relationship of a content creator and the content subscriber."

Khushi ducked her face to hide a smile and hid it successfully behind the buttermilk glass. She decided to buy the expensive bag Payal was salivating on for months as a thank you for sending her on stupid errand.

"I was thinking we were friends," Arnav said softly when Khushi didn't reply.

Khushi jerked her head at that and shook her head. "We are. Friends. I mean, yes, we are friends." She stumbled across words that were currently failing her. She was rarely nervous about meeting new people and never intimidated to walk to a person and introducing herself. Arnav was phenomenally at a disadvantage of not seeing her or hearing her voice while she could do both. A part of her wanted it to be that way permanently but with the increase in the frequency of their email exchange, she knew a day would come when Arnav would ask for her phone number or she would break first and ask for his.

But this - this was unexpected, exciting, thrilling and heavily scary.

"What are you doing here?" He asked breaking the silence they had lapsed under.

Khushi laughed. "My sister made me come here. She wants some sweets from this place."

Arnav smiled. "You have come to the right place then," he said standing up and holding his hand out. Khushi looked at his hand and at him. Arnav wriggled his fingers in response, smiling wanly at her. Shrugging, she placed her hand in his and allowed herself to be pulled.

"Do you own this joint?" She asked surprised. Arnav shook his head.

"I know these people via friends. I have been begging them to share one recipe out of a dozen with me with me for months and they finally agreed to give me just one today. Imagine my surprise when they said yes." Arnav said. "Here, taste this." He took a plain looking sweet from the tray on the ground and held it out for her. Khushi took it from his hand and ignored the semi hygienic surroundings and took a bite.

She could have sworn Arnav blushed when she let out a moan after taking the first bite.

"Good, isn't it?" He asked, grinning.

Khushi crammed the entire piece into her mouth, closed her eyes and savored the taste. She felt the village her dad grew up in, on her tongue. The flavors were basic but the proportions had taken the basic flavor to an entirely different level. She couldn't recognize few of the flavors individually and she supposed that's where the secrets came from - from the heady satiation of her taste buds and a systematic failure of her brain.

"Want one more?" Arnav asked, holding some in his hand.

Khushi opened her eyes and looked at his hand regretfully. "I could if I would and I don't know if I should." When she looked up to meet his eyes, she saw him watching her with a thoughtful expression.

"I have ended up eating in or taking out more sweets than required because I couldn't help but taste what looked enticing to me." She added, wiping her hands on her jeans.

"It must be tough way to shop for desserts," Arnav said neutrally. Khushi jerked her head to see his expression. Arnav's face was as neutral as his voice.

"It's a war, really." She said in a casual tone. "Some battles I win and some I lose. I am hoping eventually it will all even out and I will win the war."

"My sister is fighting the same war." He said handing her the buttermilk glass back.

Khushi was startled at the sudden change in the direction of their conversation. She appreciated him for not cajoling her to eat more or calling out on her diet. A newfound respect bubbled in her chest at his thoughtful gesture.

"After Anjali had my nephew, Aarav, it has been one battle after another." He said sitting on the floor, right next to the men who were shaping the sweet mixture into desired shape. He pulled a tray in front of him and started mimicking the men's action, much to their delight.

"Her pregnancy was a tough one and she was on several different medications for months during and after her pregnancy. After Aarav turned one, she stopped her medications and started her diets and exercise."

"No immediate results?" Khushi asked, sitting on floor opposite to Arnav, hugging her legs to her chest.

Arnav shook his head. "No immediate results. She had gotten into habit of eating whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. Putting herself on a schedule and disciple wasn't easy for her. She is a bigger foodie than I am Khushi and our collective enthusiasm made me take up cooking in the first place. Seeing her struggling with her craving was just...just hard, you know?"

Khushi bit her lip and nodded. Of course she knew. She knew exactly what Anjali had gone through. She knew exactly how the moment felt during the conflict of wanting to eat something calorie rich as mind would rationalize how it would make this ghost of a need go away.

Anjali wasn't genetically disposed for obesity but had had cocktail of events and medications that had turned her body against her. The metabolism that once naturally took care of her, wasn't working in her favor now. The chemicals in her body had f**ked up natural order of things. It wasn't a nice thing when your own body becomes alien to your practices and you have relearn everything that came naturally to you and restart looking after your body in a whole different way.

Khushi knew about struggles many young mothers and many women go through as they battle weight loss that is born from the medication they were subjected to. In a way she was glad she wasn't going through exactly what Anjali did but she did understand the effects of it.

"It becomes a way of life," Khushi replied after long stretch of silence. There are noises from the people making the sweets. A heady aroma of open fire, melting jiggery fills the air. Khushi's mind however has been stuck on Arnav's words.

"Not everyone can get away with few self-deprecating words and become a part of joke. Not everyone can take it lightly when mild insults are thrown in their direction. It stops being funny. It stops being cute. It stops being naive. Arnav, unlike me, Anjali's fight is with the body that has betrayed her." She held Arnav's eyes and hoped he understood what she was trying to convey. "Many women have health issues like hormonal imbalance, PCOS, juvenile diabetes and postnatal problems, like Anjali, where their battle with weight loss is much harder than what I go through. I still have a significant amount of control on my body unlike those women. Their diet and exercise regime may not work out just because of a mere technicality their body is going through. The mathematics of calories losing and calories taken vs. the weight loss doesn't add up. It is frustrating, it is irritating and it takes immense amount of patience and constant care to come to terms with their bodies and settle down for a healthy lifestyle."

Arnav nodded. "It's not that Anjali doesn't realize all these things Khushi. She knows. She is intelligent, smart and has done enough research. But sometimes there is this wave of hopelessness that sweeps her feet away from realistic goals and practical measures."

"I am sorry she feels that way," Khushi said in a small voice. In situations like these, Khushi didn't really know what to do. She knew how knowledge couldn't help deal with psychological pain. She knew how research didn't bridge the gap between ignorant as f**k people making shitty comments and smart people genuinely picking on you because they can.

"I am sitting in middle of a sweet shop and today, I don't feel like buying anything extra. But there are times when I just say - f**k it and eat something, only ending up in waspishly guilt myself to walk longer and eat lesser. It's just that sometimes, I don't want to care. Sometimes I don't want it to matter. Sometimes I just want to live in the moment and enjoy something I truly love without feeling guilty about it, you know?" Khushi said.

"I asked my sister to write down the sweets she wants to buy and give it to the sales guy behind the counter the moment she entered the shop. And then I asked her to walk out of the shop and make a phone call to anyone who is willing to listen her speak till her order is packed. Without getting off the call, pick the stuff up, pay the bill and walk out." Arnav reminisced. "It wasn't an elegant solution for the problem but three times out of five, she didn't buy anything for herself or tasted anything."

"As long as it works, isn't it?" Khushi said with a smile. Arnav nodded. "I shall remember this tip and pass it on."

"You didn't ask why I didn't stop Anjali from going to a sweet shop altogether." Arnav sounded amused. Khushi let out sudden huff of laughter.

"It is about dealing with the problem slowly with the environment we have to live in than change the environment drastically and expect everything to work the same when we are thrust back to the old ways. Resist the temptation and all..." Khushi grinned.

Arnav grinned in response and just like that they were okay. The awkwardness was gone, Arnav was smelling delicious and Khushi felt satiated even though she hadn't eaten much since breakfast.

"I should probably go," she said standing up and dusting her jeans. She looked startled when Arnav stood up and offered to walk her out.

"Do you want to get coffee sometime?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck. Khushi smiled and nodded in reply. "I will email you my phone number later, if that's okay." He said holding up his flour smeared hands.

"Sure," she said a tad disappointed. She wondered why Arnav couldn't simply spout his phone number to her. Swallowing the words that were trying to escape she said, "Sure."

TO be continued.

R

just amazing update love your writing.

First I simply love cookingwithmycactus - hell as a foodie, I stalk good chefs and recipes. My family is subjected to my creations and crave traditional food. Anyway, now that I am done drooling over your budding chef, I must admit that their conversation was one heck of a debate on the weight issues women face whether genetically prone to it or by a hormonal imbalance. For someone who struggles with this issue, she could easily connect with him. I hope she has found someone who she can be free to be herself with - being in the shape she is, knowing of her struggles, someone she can talk freely to about it. I love that he does not prevent Anjali from facing the temptations but get her little dosage of the drug she craves. The doctors are always saying eat everything in moderation. But there are days, when you simply cannot resist but binge and then feel guilty afterwards. Stress and lack of sleep also play a huge part in this issue. I know when I just had my first baby, I was stressed as the baby was not having enough milk from me. I had very little sleep as I had to wake her up so often to feed and just wondering whether I was doing the right thing or not for this little kid was making me stressed to the max. I would stay up so I don't miss a feed time and guess what I would do while I was awake, eat and eat simply out of boredom sometimes. So I watched the other moms from my mom network getting thinner while I simply keep wearing pregnancy clothes still. I must tell you it feels horrible to be in track pants (even if they are lulu lemons designer pants) when you were used to be all polished looking as a professional. Sometimes you find what works for you and you lose the weight. But at the end of the day, you come to a compromise where you are satisfied with yourself and tell the whole world to go screw themselves. I won't give up what I enjoy simply to crave for it and then binge on it another day. I love food too much to give up on any of it but I have learned to eat just what I want to without going overboard. I hate diets and don't believe in them. I do believe in making healthier version of the dishes I enjoy. The dishes that don't taste the same in a healthier version will be eaten less often but in it's original version. I started exercising hoping to lose weight and to some degree it worked but the weight on my belly just refuses to go anywhere. trust me for someone who loves a good bikini (I grew up on an island what can I say), having the belly weight is very demoralizing. I am sorry to be babbling about my experience but I will leave with this: I came to appreciate who I am as did the important people around me. I can take a fat belly joke as I find it is healthy to be able to laugh at oneself but if it offends me, I make sure whoever is saying it knows it is offensive. I work out to be healthy for my kids and for myself. I work out to get rid of the stress and to be able to enjoy all the tastes that God has put on this earth for us to enjoy. Why are Kushi and Anjali trying to lose the weight? Because they are uncomfortable with it themselves or to meet expectations placed on them? I just feel part of the stress is trying to meet standard created by others. If you are happy with your expectations, then it does not matter what others think. Too simplistic?

Originally posted by: Raila1014

Why are Kushi and Anjali trying to lose the weight? Because they are uncomfortable with it themselves or to meet expectations placed on them? I just feel part of the stress is trying to meet standard created by others. If you are happy with your expectations, then it does not matter what others think. Too simplistic?

That's exactly what the story is about.

for now for prologue..
such a touchy topic... that i can't resist myself to attacking on it...
but story xams is also going on so i wil;l take my time hope you understand this..
you present khushi here and the bullism of other students on her for her weight... i like her attitude that she is immune to this reaction some how but not everyone in real world especially now-a-days..