The Occasional Snack

There used to be a time when I could eat and eat and eat and not worry an ounce about getting out of shape. The big foodie that I am, it was a blessing, and I would eat the samosas and the chaat and the biryani and all of the idlis and dosas and parathas I wanted and could still look like a dream. I could indulge myself with all the 'occasional' snacks I want and never have to worry about needing to skip the next meal. But that seems like a lifetime ago. It is now the age of watch-what-you-eat-or-you-wont-fit-in-your-pants-tomorrow days.And thank god, for I am only a vegetarian - I shudder to think what would my plight have been had I been a non-vegetarian (with infinitely more choices!).

Like I said, I am a total foodie. A friend of mine had once stepped out for lunch with me (for the first time) and when he saw me clean my plate of 2 humongous pakistani parathas (almost dripping with oil and probably counting up to 2000 calories put together), chana, sabzi, rice and raita, he was rendered quite speechless. He simply said 'I'm impressed'. Later (when he knew me enough) he confessed, 'I thought that was going to be your dinner too :)'. Fast forward 9 yrs to 2012, if I had the same plate, I reckon, I'd wipe the oil off the parathas and eat perhaps a third of the contents of that plate. No, don't get me wrong, I can STILL clean the plate. But I will not, because that, I know, is going to be disastrous for my waistline.

Not that I am unhealthy or overweight. My annual visits to my doctor turn out all fine too. It is just those few extra pounds that don't add up, just those few extra pounds that inconveniently do tend to show!  
I went shopping in India earlier this year, and I was looking for some leggings..I found many in the 'M'(stands for 'Medium') size, but none in my usual 'S' (small), I called one of the attenders in the store and asked him where can I find the 'S'. He took one look at me and asked 'aapke liye hai kya, madam?'(Is it for you, madam?) , and I said 'haan' (yes), then he coolly said, 'yeh aapka hi size hai madam'(this is just your size madam). Oh, the horror of being insulted so! I hated the guy, his store and the leggings and stepped out with as much dignity as I could muster! My mom and her friends used to say I was just skin and bones, apparently, no more!

I was cleaning my wardrobe the other day (for I had just come home from shopping at the outlets and I had a bunch of new stuff to accommodate in my almost always cramped walk-in). And I was desperately trying to determine if I should pack and 'shelve' some of my clothes. You see, I have been in denial for too long - some of these trousers that I was eyeing standing there in that closet were 12 years old, right from the time I started working, and although, I would fit comfortably into them even 2 years ago, they are not so comfortable any more. But 'hope' being my middle name, I have been desperately clinging to the idea that I am just a few days away from losing those few pounds. It is these extra pounds that I thought were a piece of cake and that I believed I had control over. Wrong, and how!

So that brings me to the million $$ question - what can I do to get out of this situation - eat more healthy? I think I already do! cut down portion sizes? Can't ever do! skip some meals? ..are you outta your mind??? Exercising? - now we are talking...

I used to once harp around any of my friends who would listen on how I did not believe in planned/scheduled exercise or fitness routines, and how I found gymming to be an extremely amusing concept and how I thought if people could live responsible, disciplined and hard working lives in their homes, they would be as fit as can be (one of my many pet peeves, my friends have heard enough of those ;-) ). Turns out I was so wrong, and I had to learn it the hard way too. Looking at myself today, I don't have a cook or a maid who comes daily (or even weekly or bi-weekly or monthly, I have one but she comes at her convenience, meaning once every few months, apparently her calendar is too full these days!) and I don't have a nanny to give me a break from the kid and I don't even have a driver to drive me around town. I go to work every single day, I cook every single day (and no - no frozen foods or even semi home made meals in my home, every preparation is home and hand made, fresh every single day), I have to clean every single day, I do my own dishes and my own laundry (with some help at home,to be fair!), I do my own shopping and my own driving, watch my kid. I have guests come over all the time, and I have many interests that I pursue outside of my home. I go up and down the stairs in my home a million times each day! I would imagine all this would indeed keep me in good shape. Apparently, not. I still get to keep my extra pounds - Just how unfair is that! Now I know better - I need that exercise as much as anyone else.

But with everything else going on around me - how in the world am I to find the time for exercise! I try, I really do. Waking up earlier to get some extra exercise time/sneaking in a quick workout when the kid has a play date or when the husband takes the kid to the pool or Tennis or something/signing up for some class. Don't laugh, but I have even done the let-me-add-some-moves-to-my-time-in-the-kitchen routine (my 5-yr old finds me hilarious at such times). And these things all help, they most definitely do - only if I consistently keep at it. And that, my friends, is a major, major commitment. Unfortunately, I think I have arrived at that point in life where, I might be successful in losing a good number of pounds if I work on it for a few weeks, but I will gain them all back in less than 2 weeks as soon as I stop whatever it is that I am doing.To stay determined a particular week to wake up an hour early is one thing, but the realization that you have to do that for the rest of your life is quite another thing. Every time that realization hits, my motivation abandons me and I am on my own. And what's worse, waking up early also translates to sleeping an hour less each day. The very thought horrifies me!

I guess the choice is pretty simple - either continue to fuss about how you look and what you can't wear or sweat it out to get into better shape, and for me it looks like I have now found a middle ground where I do a relay with either one. Work out a few days and slim down a bit and get some compliments here and there and when it gets to be too much work, step out of the alert mode and eat well, sleep well and get some well deserved peace of mind, until I get all worked up again about all those extra pounds! I hope that doesn't mean maintaining clothes in 2 sizes though, since that may not be very welcome news to certain folks in the home department ;-)

Of simmery summers and spirited souls

Spring is back and summer is soon going to be here and brings with it a multitude of memories - memories from a different era, a different world and a different age. This is a really random post that just pours them all out. Read on if you have the time and the patience!
I used to be a scrawny little girl, with a couple of pigtails sporting bright ribbons, red or white mostly (you see, in my world back then, there was never a need to be color co-ordinated, the school happened to prescribe those colors), wearing simple, cutesy frocks, with a smile on my face and a spirit to match (my mother has told me many a time over the years how I always had that smile on back in those days and how it had always made her proud - so much better than the frowns I seem to embrace so often now-a-days!). 

We lived a simple life, my family and me. Dad and mom both worked. We were happy children, happy with what we had, happy with where we went and happy with whom we had. We lost our grandparents very early in life and have very few memories of them - summers always meant staying in town and sticking together as sisters. My sister was elder to me by 4 yrs and was a BIG influence in my life all through my childhood and much beyond (she still is, in a lot of ways!), I would read only the books she endorsed(enough to keep me occupied most of the time actually), and believed in everything she stood by (sustainability was a household term, even in those days, thanks to her!),kept only the friends she approved of, watched only the shows she enjoyed (we didn't watch much TV anyways, my mom had a strict no-tv policy and only the Sunday kids' shows on DD were exempt at home - on a side note, I think I employ my mom's devices when it comes to Mrigank's TV watching routines, much to the chagrin of my grew-up-well-versed-with-TV husband). I remember during the summer of 1988, sis brought the unabridged,original version of Maxim Gorky's 'Mother' home and I pounced on it as soon as she was done. When I got back to School in June (I was going to be in Grade 7), my english teacher asked us during class 'What do you want to become when you grow up?'. When it was my turn to speak, I stood up cool as a cucumber and said 'A revolutionist' ;-). Poor Mrs. Padmini was rendered quite speechless. Yeah, a bit crazy in the head, I'd say too, would blame it on the sister though :p Really, She was my role model, my ideal, my super hero and my little world revolved around her throughout the formative years. I would be so proud of being her little sister and would brag about her to all my friends. In retrospect, I am so glad my sister was as good as she was, and managed to set a very good example for me in many ways(she has diagreed on that, before, and will do so again, I am sure, but...!). She taught me to read, and to think, to believe, and most importantly to take a stance. The best and most valuable gift I got from her is attitude. She set the foundations and how!! :-)

My mom was a teacher by profession, and sounded and acted very much like a teacher (she still does sometimes!) She is one of the coolest,strongest and bravest women I have seen. Summers would be the one time I would see her chill; afternoon naps are always a luxury for working women, and a luxury that teachers get to enjoy over the hot summer months.So she would be done with the morning routine of cooking, feeding and cleaning and would call us sisters to set the stage for that perfect afternoon nap, we would pull the curtains over all the windows in the living room, get a couple of buckets of water and enough sholapur blankets (the thick, cotton ones, very solid!) and would dip them in the buckets, drain out the excess water and hang them wet (and sometimes, if mom wasn't watching, they would be dripping too!) over the windows .
Yeah, crazy - I know, but hey, we didn't have wood floors or carpet to worry about, and it was scorching hot, what else could we do with no a/c around? We even would use the water to wet the walls on really bad days! We would then switch on the fan full speed and there, the perfect siesta spot! But that was never tempting enough for us girls. We would sneak out of the house and hang out with the neighbours' kids in the verandah playing boardgames, carroms,chess and the like, and doing artwork, sharing horror stories and other weird stuff or just reading. We were a bunch of kids around the block mostly around the same age group, my sister was really the oldest of us all, and we spent many a summer day hanging out together. (yeah, it's inexplicable, but as kids, we definitely were immune to the insanely hot weather). I still have a bunch of drawings and paintings we created as kids over many summers. It was only later on, when we got an air-cooler home, (one of those mobile ones that can stump you out once filled with water and when switched on) that we girls started craving for that nap by the cooler. At nights, the whole family would sleep on the floor by the cooler in the living room. The bedroom and the beds would be abandoned all of the summer months, no one wanted to sleep on those factory manufactured mattresses, they just made the summer feel all the more simmery. When the sun wold begin to set, my mom would send us sisters to the terrace and have us splash water from the overhead water tank all over the terrace to help cool the roof over the house for the night. It's a weird thing that I can't explain, but I used to love the smell of water on the scorching cement floors.  I think I still do :)

There was this one time, my sister decided we (us both and a couple of neighborhood kids) should play some (indoor) cricket. We had a ball but unfortunately, didnt have a cricket bat. Resourceful as my sister was, she rummaged through dad's stuff at home and pulled out a 3-ft long, heavy, metal file (a file, as in the 'tool') and said, this can double for a bat. We agreed. When it was her turn to bat, my sister swung the 'bat' heroically and as it made the trajectory that it is supposed to, it headed straight for my sisters eyeglasses (she wore corrective lenses and so did I, a few years down the line) and cracked the glass set inside the frame into a thousand neat pieces. Luckily for us, mom was in the neighbors' home (or she would never have let us play such a crazy game in the first place!) and my smart sister decided it is best to admit guilt in the presence of our neighbor rather than wait until mom gets home (so we could be exposed to a scaled down version of mom's ire). In the evenings when it would get cooler, us girls would head out for some play time. We lived in a gated, defence community that was a safe haven for kids, with lots of room to play! I remember the games we playes back in those days - I spy, Biscuit (it was a silly variation of tag where in a kid getting tagged can save himself by simply uttering the name of a different kid to be followed), Help and Chain (please dont ask me what that is!) and four stones (no, I wont elaborate on that either :) ). We almost always came back home with bruises and scars (and like I tell my son now, they always made us stronger :p).

My poor father was the only one who had no special routine set aside for summers, except that he had 3 girls at home with much time to kill on hand. Daddy loved to pamper us - he would get us fancy pens, and gifts and take us out and bring home the yummiest Samosas (he always got 6, 2 each for my akka and me and one each for mom and himself. But my mom would just take the filling and give us the rest and we would split it into 2 parts for the 2 of us), and curry puffs, pastries, plum cakes(the kind that Hyderabadi bakeries specialize in!) and so much more. This would just become an everyday affair during summers, because we girls would be bored hanging around all day long and would need something to spice up the start of the evening. The other thing that my dad would do at the start of every summer was to get a new set of books for summer reading from Vishalandra book house in Hyderabad which we would finish reading in no time at all but would draw inspiration for our artwork from, all through the summer. Still have those books lined up in the shelves back home in my room! Daddy would also take us around on his 2 wheeler shopping for the next academic year, new books, and book covers, and labels and pens, and School dresses and Shoes and socks and ribbons and stuff. I remember the one time I made the annual trip to the local 'Bata' showroom for my school shoes, and we noticed that the store was all barricaded. A little enquiring and my dad realized that the South African Cricket team were shopping inside, he got so excited that he sneaked upto one of the windows towing me along and after a good half hour of 'star' gazing (my dad was, and still is a BIG Cricket buff), it was time for us to get inside for our shopping. We went in, picked my shoes and when we ready to get the billing done, my poor dad realized he was robbed of his wallet. Must have been some pick pocket by the window! My dad would sit and help us cover our books with the protective brown paper sheets that were used to cover them well. And then he would stick the labels and fill them in with our names and class and subject in his beautiful hand. Always admired his handwriting, wish I could write like him!

Dinner times in Summer were especially fun. We used to live on the second level of a 2 level building and had a pretty balcony attached to the unit. There were huge 'flame of the forest's shielding the balcony from prying eyes outside of the unit (I always thought our balcony had a 'Jurassic park' look to it during the monsoons) The balcony was home to 9 pots carrying rose plants bearing roses in different colors and shades. So once my mom would be done with the cooking, we would carry the pots, pans, plates and the rest over to the balcony and sit and have a nice meal while squatting together on the floor in a circle around the food (with all those power cuts doing the rounds in the neighborhood, this was the way-to-go for most families around in the neighborhood I guess). The only thing that had me worrying in Summer would be the army of newly hatched baby lizards doing the rounds all through the day and through out the house. Especially so in the balcony. So I would have my dad and sis scout every inch of the area(rose plants and all) and detect and shove away any offenders around.  Every once in a while dad would bring home a family pack of Dollops ( Ice cream - butterscotch was our favourite flavor at home) and we would all gather around the dining table and finish the whole pack :-) (oh no, we never saved any for later, since the power cuts never let the refrigerators do their job in peace)

And the mangoes! Ah, the mangoes! There was never a summer day with no mangoes to go with a meal. And how we loved our mangoes!! My mom would tell us that we should eat all the mangoes we can in Summer because that's how our body stocks up Vitamin A for the entire year(I know, that's stretching it a little too far ;-) ). Dad and mom would bring home the largest, juiciest and most succulent of mangoes through out the summer. But one can never get enough of them, mangoes!

Those were the days, summer vacations always lasted just enough number of days and we were almost always ready and happy to go back to School when it was finally time to go. I could, and would give anything to get those days back. I miss the comfort, warmth and security of my home and the wonderful times I spent with my folks back in those days. The times have changed and so have the people, my parents are not as young and strong anymore, I try hard to keep them so atleast in spirit. My sister lives 10,000 miles away and we dont even have time for a few phones each week. Hours turn into days and days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and months into years. And with every passing year, the pain in my heart just grows and the longing I have to be with my family stays just so.

I wish I could tell my son now, how precious these years will always be for him. But I guess, he will know some day. Just like I do, now. Only, it will be a little too late.