IT IS A RELATIVE WORLD

Let us speak about some weighty issues today. No I am not referring to the debate raging across the world as to why only a European should head the IMF or even closer home, should we support Baba Ramdev by doing yoga or by fasting or by supporting his fast. Weighty issues as in literally speaking, but any woman worth her weight will agree with the magnanimity of this. I have always had some issue or the other with my weight. Okay, I am not even suggesting that I am unique. I am merely sharing my story.

As a child I was too thin. No I am neither trying to be cheeky nor am I being horribly rude to all obese adults who, as rotten luck could have it, were also obese children. Please stop sniggering, this term is possible (visualise Kareena Kapoor in Tashan). I was so cadaverous that my shoulder bones jutted out through my school blazer and if we all remember how heinously coarse and heavy those blazers used to be, it should speak volumes to substantiate my claims. My parents would actually give me medicines to induce hunger during my vacations in valiant attempts to make me gain some weight. Their drug assisted efforts soon paid dividends and come adolescence the struggle unfaithfully switched sides from gain to loss. My bulging waistline was having a nasty teenage rebellious mind of its own and was completely disdainful of all my efforts to tame it. As I grew older and wiser, I had a Buddha like awakening and realised that the quest for perfection is indeed futile. Inspiration may come from strange quarters- mine came from the harsh world of relative grading in my Business School. My martyr like Fs and the Ds in various Finance and Statistic papers were not in vain- it helped me make one of the most ego satisfying decisions of my life.

Some months back, my husband was evaluating two offers at work- one involved shifting to South Korea and the other to South Africa. Well ‘South’ being common to both, I am not too sure many other Indians would have decided between Korea and Africa the way I did. If I was a little plump in India, I would be a balloon in Korea- what with their petite waists, gorgeously thin toned legs, always appropriately encased in ultra short shorts, shiny silky hair that could be cut in any fashion irrespective of what they did or did not do to camouflage double chins and those slender arms.....no ways.....South Korea was out. So what if it ranks 12^th in the Human Development Index and South Africa was 110^th. Different humans have different needs. And boy am I glad I chose what I did. Yes it could be serendipity. Yes, yes it could be because of more exhaustive and  some would feel definitely more rational judgement of my husband taking into account trivialities like career growth, compensation, work life balance etc etc. Irrespective of the means, the end was what I had desired. 

 South Africa seems to be the land of plenty- from the crime all around to the gigantic portions of food served in restaurants! However much I may hog, I am yet to finish a dish, from salads to steaks, from pizzas to pastas by myself. In all my adult life never before have I had the dual satisfaction of binging to my heart’s content and still not appearing to a plebeian glutton who has polished off her plate with the last morsel of bread. Also, what holds true for food holds even truer for drink! I have taken to ordering semi sweet white wine, which true to the ample nature here, is served not in a glass but  in a carafe’ and I can sip to my heart’s content even without having to order a repeat.  

I am above five feet tall and do weigh more than fifty kilos (as this is no scientific paper, I don’t see the need to get into the nitty gritties of exact details), but again my ego is boosted every once in a while here when I am termed as tiny. Especially my wrists as was evident when I went to buy bracelets. And then I went to buy stockings- I was looking for size XS or S but rack after rack I was confronted with L, XL, XXL. Industriously, I kept looking and finally saw SL- well, the S was what I was looking for, but what was the L doing with the S? In my desperation, I almost bought it until, my eyes caught the words Super Large- larger than L but smaller than XL! Everything that everyone buys is almost certainly made in China but for me rescue came in the form of a Chinese shop selling stuff that the Chinese themselves use much to the irritation of my fellow shoppers who were left wondering if they had suddenly bloated or had everything else shrunk around them.

I would be lying if I said that I was not loving these problems- am sure my ego will come crashing back to earth in amchi Mumbai soon! The contrasts are plentiful starting with 1500 sq feet luxurious apartment versus the 2500 sq ft cute and cosy little house here with a patio and a garden. It really is a relative world, but I am fortunate enough to enjoy the best of both worlds right now- junk jewellery that fits my wrists from Mumbai and giant burgers that fit my appetite from Joburg........Burp!