Fattyness

What happens when a trigger happy person like me just hates taking pictures with her own face in it?

I never fully understood what it felt like when chubby women said to me "I hate my own pictures". Now I can fully gauge what it feels like to dislike ur own reflection. I can't stand to see my once so flat tummy stick out like santa's happy belly. My face now has a double chin! My arms are as large as my thighs used to be...

I've always loved food. Cheesecake, pasta, pani puri, chicken lollipops... Everything! Now I'm scared that the thought of it might just make me fatter! I don't understand... Even before.. I used to eat just this much. I never gained this way.. Now I bloat with just day of outside food.

I want to be slim and pretty again. I want to lie flat on my back and look down to see my toes without having to look over the mound of fat! I want to turn heads. I want to be able to wear tube tops without having to be bothered by my chubby arms and large shoulders.

Somehow I want my boyfriend to fall in love with me again.

Senses

I stand before this world broken and unable to renew

I stand before my judges who will placate all my moves

I stand before this world that wants to take me apart

It will not replace what it has stolen

My body is battered and my eyes are swollen

My face is streaked with remnants of tears

All I am asking for is your love and the rest of all my years

The world absorb every bit of me until there is no more

It will peel back my essence and pacify my soul

It  will rip apart my seems until it can take control

Look at me as I stand before you damaged from his place

Is this what you were looking for when you looked at my face?

My heart no longer beats it's true, my body grows now cold

I am searching for so much more but I can't catch hold

My bones a brittle and riddled with breaks

I don't know where you have gone; I will fight for you no matter the stakes

Dollies

When mom told me she was going to have a baby, it phased me how a human being could fit into another! And how would it come out? But when she said two months later that there are two inside there… I thought to myself that my mom was just bullshitting me. At nine, I may not have been the strongest believer nor did I have a very active imagination. But she grew and she was cranky like a child most of the times. Everyone took more care of her than they usually would. I knew then that she was telling the truth. Dad wanted me to understand better and thought it was best to get me a CD that explained it all. It was a little kiddish but I got the basic point of how it happens and that it’s a normal thing.

As a kid I was really inquisitive, and that wasn’t a good thing for the nurses at the hospital that night cos I kept whining and trying to get into the operation theatre to see how the hell they were going to remove TWO kids out of mom! But finally I gave up and paced outside the OT like an impatient dad. The nurse came running out 20 minutes later and said that the first one was a girl. Disappointing. That was what I thought. I was already building defensive arguments against sharing my clothes, shoes and dolls. The stupid nurse came out again and in a very excited note said it was ANOTHER girl! I looked at my gran and ran up to her and started crying. It was so unfair that I would have to share the attention with two girls! What if they turned out to be prettier than me?

And I was right.

I had fallen asleep crying and was lying on the extra bed in mom’s room when I woke up. Looked to my side and there was a cradle rocking to and fro. I sat up and looked in. One extremely red faced baby was lying beside a really fair one. Gorgeous little baby girls who I knew I could only love unconditionally. At least until they started talking. Both looked so peaceful and they were tightly wrapped. In my head, I wondered how far they could get if their hands and feet were left open! I sat and stared for a very long time, marveling at the beauty of life in its purest form.

I named them Snow white and Rose red, cos I clearly couldn’t call them Silvester 1 and Silvester 2 till we named them! We took them home and life changed forever.

I want to write so much more about how I learnt to feed them, dress them, bathe them, yell at them… but I’ll do it justice and take it one stage at a time. I guess this post was long pending and is still incomplete in so many ways.

If only my words could capture the million emotions that flowed through me that June 5th in 1997.

Tripping

He gave me a second look and I didn’t find it odd. I actually noticed him earlier while waiting at the boarding gate for the annoying voice to call out to me. Worn out denims, pod plugged in with dark blue ear plugs, red tee that was a shade darker than my top. He’s carrying a back pack that matches his brown boots. His hair filled with gel, is pulled back into unnecessary perfection. While I noted these oddities, he notices me looking at him and nods, adding a toothy-smile. Crap! I half-smiled back to be polite. A big mistake!

The flight is unusually full today. Mostly squint-eyed people fill the seats near the window as they boarded the flight at the HK airport. So what’s left is the aisle seats. The number of babies on this flight, is unnerving. I love kids, don’t get me wrong. But from previous experiences, I know better than to occupy the front row seats. The baby cries uncontrollably because of the drop in air pressure the mom is completely unaware of what she is to do with it.

So I settle for an aisle seat in the 40^th row, “D” to be precise. The hair-gel lover is seated in “E” right beside me. Another teeth-exposing smile. I pray silently that maybe he’s shy, smart enough to not talk to me or just doesn’t know how to talk.

“Hey! On your way to Dubai?”

No… just thought that since I was bored, I’d warm this seat right here. “Of course, that is why I boarded this plane, right?”

“Oh. Ha ha, my bad! I’m not even sure of why I bothered asked you that?”

Don’t know why you bother to breathe either.

“First time to the UAE?”

Why do I feel like I’m at the UAE immigration centre all over again? What’s with the million questions? “I fly every few months. Love flying Cathay. Their flights are so peaceful and quiet.” Hint hint, please god let him get it this time.

“Oh, so you live there? Where about?” 

I would have smacked my head real hard if I wasn’t struggling to take out my shoe to throw it at the question box sitting beside me.

“At the marina.”

A confused look… “Where is that? Is it near the Burj?”

Just what I needed! A guide-book reader! I have mentally slapped myself for not carrying my ‘Beware of Bitch’ sign.

“Tourist?” I ask.

“No, just visiting my uncle.”

Man, he sure didn’t look that stupid! “Oh. Have fun.”

The silence made me believe that he’d actually gotten the hint this time around.

The flight has taken off and 10 minutes after the seatbelt sign has been flicked off, he starts again.

“Maybe you could suggest a few places I must visit.”

“How long has your uncle been living there?”

“15 years,” he says proudly “isn’t that cool?”

“It’s only been 7 years for me though. So, I’m sure your uncle knows the city better.”

He leaves me alone, clearly upset at my curt response. So I take the opportunity and switch on my iPod and search for the ‘really loud music’ list. He watches me as I use the jog dial to find a nice song. He knows nothing is playing yet so he has a few seconds more to squeeze in another question.

“Whose voice soothes your soul?”

Well, certainly not yours! And are you going to get any less personal with the questions? My look startles him (I often find it tough to stop immediate reactions like an offended stare) and so, he rephrases.

“I mean, which artist do you like best?”

Much better. “Jason Mraz.”

“Is he new? Not heard of him. I am an aspiring DJ btw. I hope to spin out music and make people dance to my tunes”

Now I see his problem. He is delusional, poor guy. “Jason Mraz is a similar genre as John Mayer.”

“I don’t like that man.”

Ticked me off. “Why not?” Mental slap, reminding myself that asking a question continues the conversation, doesn’t end it. So I continue. “Well actually, you have your own views. Have a great flight!”

I’m praying silently that the rude reply to my own question keeps him shut. But I notice him fiddling with the remote control to the in-flight entertainment and I know who he is going to ask for help. Just then the captain gives my neighbor a new topic to discuss about.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Due to dense fog conditions we are unable to land in Dubai at this time. We have enough fuel to remain in holding position for the next two hours. I will inform you once we have clear skies to land this flight. Enjoy your flight!”

And he begins…  

Tonight

The door opens and it begins. The yelling and the screaming. The anger and the agitation. The television is too loud and it adds to the commotion. I don't think they realise that it is 11.30 in the night.

I walk in and stroll to the last room in the house. I sit on the bed and finish watching the last episode of Castle on my iPod. Its like a drug that keeps my brain hazy when I want to get away and I can't. That and the new season of every possible soap opera.

The episode comes to an end and a new fight at home has just begun. I kick myself for getting involved. It gets nasty and I get into the next room and sit on the bed. My eyes tear up in anger. I hate myself for the way I'm thinking right now. I want it all to end.

I write to myself a note, because there isn't anyone to tell me this. "There is no room for self-pity cos there is always someone who hurts more. You can't be tired because someone else is always more tired that you. How can you be ill when someone else suffers so much more. You can't even be happy cos everyone else is sad. All you can do my sweetheart, is lie in bed, cover yourself up and cry till you can't breathe. Morning will come and another lonely day will begin. You can replenish your stock of Gossip Girl and Grey's. Get lost in their staged world and wish u could be them. Laugh at work with everyone while sharing their joy. I cannot promise you about how you will feel tomorrow but I can promise you that this day will end..sooner or later and u will get ur 15mins of pure selfishness while you soak ur pillow with your tears."