Deflating the inflations..

I am a big "O"!

A round face, round eyes, round nose, round cheeks, round chin, and a round mouth. Whatever you can see in the name of neck is also round. Then comes the round body with small hands dangling on either side to make it rounder.. So at the first glance, it looks like.. a small round on top of a big one.

It is babyfat, my friends said... even after I had my own babies. Chubby cheeks, cutie chin,.. they sang. Where ever I saw lovely cute and healthy body parts, others saw fat. I am not fat. It is just that my weight doesn't correspond to my height. The problem is with my height. I am comfortable in my own skin, no matter what frame it is stretched over. I used to admire my dimpled thighs and ballooned belly. People with a round face are quite jovial, and are very lucky, says those learned ones.

But then one day I had enough of it. Well, it can be bothersome, to have my size commented on. It's time to say bye to my babyfat, I decided. And make that O an I. Well, there's no harm in trying, right? First I tried to fool people by camouflaging it with brushes and blushers. The warpaint was on! Still the O remained an O. I decided to start deflating from my cheeks. "Blow balloons", someone suggested. "I will send balloons in crates", my cousin teased. Chewing gums will help you, said a magazine. I chewed and chewed, but the only result I got was an addiction to those chewing gums. My face started to look like that of a ruminant's. Suck air in, and then blow out in force whenever you can, said a friend. I started doing that everytime I remembered, regardless of time and place, until I realised that those stares and sneers were actually meant for me!

The realisation dawned that home remedies are not going to help. So I put on my shoes and went in search of a trainer. He has agreed to change my complete upholstery. So now I am jumping, running, puffing, panting.. all just to shrink my carefully bloated body! Only one part was needed for the inflation.. my mouth. But for the deflation, it takes the combined work of all my mental and physical organs.. To inflate is human, to deflate, Divine!!

A woman to love...

I am a strong woman, and quite stubborn. Life has not always been kind. But I think in the end, it is what you make out of it. I have learned to trust my instincts, and do whatever I believe to be right and just. I am open, my heart is whole, and so, I can love fully.

There are many things that I love and enjoy. I love my beautiful home, my swingcot, raindrops, chocolate ice cream... I love to sketch, paint, read, dream, the still dark night... I love Irish coffee, Ksara wine, Bacardi with Ginger beer...I love books, music, silence, rains, forests... I love my mom, my two darling boys, my husband... Yes, I am a woman to love, and in love!

I can honestly say that I love somebody, so very much, with all my heart. And there is nothing that can take that awareness away from me.

I love him for his character, warmth and generosity, for his passions, for the way he makes me laugh, for the way he is so open about his feelings, for the way I know I can trust him more than any other person I've ever known... I love him for his kindness and gentleness, for his honesty, for his talent, for his creativity, for his ambition, and for his drive... My lover, my best friend, my soulmate...!

I'm sorry if this sounds too good to be true, and you are reaching for the sickbag. But I don't have to kiss enough frogs to recognise my Prince...

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Yet, I was never blind in love. I chose to be strong, in the sense that I felt I had to do everything on my own, that I didn't need anyone, nor could I depend on anyone or ever fully trust anyone. There were times when I felt empty. The facade I maintained allowed me to live the lie that being strong meant never letting anyone in. I was a scared, bitter person masquerading as a strong, self-reliant woman. When you try to contain everything, pretending everything is okay, it eats you up--and when you live each day with it, you soon forget that there's something wrong.. and you eat it up. Why should I be imprisoned by my circumstances and let it affect my life? I am not going to let my circumstances decide who I am going to be! I am not going to let all that I didn't have determine my future or cap my potential. I am not going to be limited by what others have said about me or what is expected of me.

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I live honestly in the present moment, bravely facing what lies ahead, complete with new understanding of what lies behind me, though no longer subject to the past. I am becoming all that I am meant to be...

Reating.. or.. Eading..?

I was not brought up in a "Everybody eat together at the table" home. The rule was if your stomach growls, have your food. I started to bury my nose deep into words while having food. Suited me fine.. I could gulp down all the crap that has been served to me. I could watch my diet pefectly. I never knew what I was eating. I could eat less and be full too! There was only one problem.. one single meal lasted for hours. The lifeless papers used to become alive in front of me. I used to lose myself in other people's mind. It was one of the great pleasures that solitude could afford me.

It was a nightmare when dad used to come on leave, and we had to eat together. Dad quibbling over table manners, Mom's complaints about the report cards, the correct posture, correct sound to make while chewing!!! And those vegetables which I was supposed to eat for my eyes, ears, nose, skin.. Phew! It was too much. No more books on the dining table. I had to talk. Holding intimate conversations with the invisible characters of a book and with the visible people sitting around me were beyond comparison.

But the lightning struck when I forgot to make sure that this habit is ok with the man I was going to marry. There even if your tummy grumbles, even if you are ready to swallow a horse, you wait till everyone come. When the food is served, you opened your mouth and talked while eating! Food started to have some flavour. My tastebuds started to work and told me which is which! Never knew chilly was spicy and tomotoes were sour.

Now when my children carry their food in one hand and a book in the other hand, I keeep quiet. But my gourmet hubby scowls. I exchange meaningful glances with my kids, and wait for my hubby to go back to office so that we can lose ourselves again in those imaginary places, with our invisible friends.