Being Thin Is A Hassle Too

Why do you always travel by AC II Tier, I am often asked by my friends. They are usually aghast at my squandering. I then launch my woeful tale of how I am not given space to sit in AC III Tier and am made to sit in one sixth of the berth. Just because I am thin doesn’t mean I don’t need proper space to sit! All the times I sat huddled in the corner of the berth clutching my sweater and bag and book, almost falling off the corner, comes back to my mind. Any amount of glaring at the fat aunty or the irritating kid would make no difference; I would still be spending the whole journey saving myself from falling off and hanging on to my bag and sweater, looking like a refugee.

Here it was, one reason being thin brings me trouble.

All right, you will say, being slim is such a boon! You can wear whatever you want, the options open to you are wide – skirts to shorts to dresses to crop pants. Oh ya, sure. And I have hoarded them. But what happens one fine day when I start dressing up in my favourite pair of grey cotton checks shorts? I barely fit into them thereby looking bloated and shapeless. I must continue to be slim at all times. Addition of even a fraction of an inch of fat / muscle renders my entire stylish wardrobe useless.

I don’t remember this at all times, of course, (at most times, rather) that I need to watch my weight and be careful of what I am eating. Hell no. I eat. I lavishly slather cheese on my morning breakfast every day. Dollops of butter are used to toast 2 slices of bread. Chocolates are the best fillers during the day. And junk food? A must. A necessity of life. Fruits gifted forcibly by Mum are left to rot in the refrigerator because my hand reaches desperately only for chocolates.

While food is the chink in my armour, it is not easy when people cajole me into eating more. You are so thin, c’mon. You deserve to eat more. Moreover, you can afford it. At these times, how do I influence my weak, vulnerable heart not to get carried away? In such instances, I stop listening to my mind and do just that – get carried away.

For one, I am not thin. I am slim. I look slim. There is fat in wrong places I need to lose. After eating a lot for days together, I feel lousy and bulky. Unbelievable? But true.

I kind of like exercising. But if I do more of it, I lose weight rapidly and have to stop. Designing an exercise regime for myself isn’t easy. Look at what the gym guys did. They categorized me as underweight, low on muscle and BMI and refused me permission for aerobics. I was made to pull and push all kinds of manly weights till I went absconding and stopped receiving their calls.

It is also perhaps of the lack of fat that my teeth chatter even in 22 degrees Celsius. I am compelled to carry around jackets and shawls wherever I go. Imagine the sight I would have looked the other day, when I was walking to a movie theatre on a hot evening gripping a sweater. I know I am going to feel cold wherever I go, the mall, movie theatre or restaurant. I have to protect myself and keep warm clothing in my travel bag, car, office and home at the cost of being labelled obsessed.

Grass is always greener on the other side. So, every time you see a thin person, you may want to stop and think if that person’s life is really hassle-free!


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