Body Shaming on a Break


We all have some underlying concerns that we grapple with. Concerns that limit us. I am sharing with you a personal story of one such concern and what it took to break-free.

cover-3-1Since my teenage years, I have been generous on my scale. Adolescence is not very kind, anyway. Self-deprecating humour makes for a great defence strategy. A strategy that I employed in large measures unknowingly. Although I am blessed with genes that render me attractive, there always is self-doubt. I have been on several diet plans with varying levels of commitment and results. Paid annual memberships to gyms that in the beginning were partially put to use. Later they were charity. Much like Aerobics, Zumba and whichever fad did the rounds. When I contracted jaundice and typhoid simultaneously I exclaimed in joy in the doctors chamber for that was my ticket to shedding kilos. Alas! that didn’t happen in the measures I expected, instead I developed an appetite for paranthas that I otherwise never ate. In fact, I was once even prescribed medication that was said to aid weight loss. I have tried homeopathy too. My medical records are squeaky clean so there is nothing I can pin it on. Sometimes I wished for it to not be so, so I could have my excuse. Even when I would see some results with intense efforts, they never lasted long enough. It didn’t help that my efforts had to be disproportionately more than others. It was the classic yo yo. Am not surprised at the number of wardrobes I need to cater to all my fluctuations. I set limitations on myself, about what I could do, about what I could wear. I set boundaries that affected me. It only became worse with years.

The irony is that when I look back at my pictures I realise that I was just fine! That my years spent in being so conscious will not come back. I was too hard on myself. I judged myself in ways I could never share or express to anyone. I judged myself before others could. To voice this would have left me vulnerable and exposed then. Fat people don’t like being exposed! I know this might come as a surprise to those who know me. What can I say, there is a lot more to people than meets the eye.

What changed?

I took a break. Last year I decided to take time-off from my professional pursuits. No agenda at all. Free wheeling. To do things I love. To figure what I love. To get bored. When was the last time you made ample time for yourself? No not a quick fix weekend. As far as I can remember even summer vacations had assignments. Life since has been about juggling academics, career, relationships, family- its been busy. Well that changed so did my mindset.

The impact of taking a break is not immediate. It is tacit in many ways. In fact, I went through an epic low of oversized clothes, binge eating -almost expected when home. Being a homebody like me meant less of socialising, a very slippery slope.

Then something transformed. I owe that to my love for introspection. I love to spring clean but do poorly on giving away my clothes. But that day I pulled out clothes that were smaller and set them aside for charity. I wondered what I had been thinking all these years. Even if I did fit back into them why would I not buy myself new clothes. Indulge myself. Treat myself. Wear what is in vogue. I let go.

My scale is the most generous to me as of now. But my perspective is lending me wings. I am eating home cooked food- thanks to covid (silver lining), have become predominantly vegetarian and workout regularly. I do get disheartened when despite all this the scale does not budge in my favor. However, I feel healthier. I feel fitter. I have better stamina. And for once am focusing on quality (life) over quantity (scale).

So my recommendation to you is give yourself a break!

My Plate of Joy


My Plate of Joy

The year 2020, akin to other years, began with some retrospection and some goals. I enjoy the process immensely. When looking back at the year gone-by I recount my happy moments. My endeavor then is to do more of those things that made me feel good. It is a powerful exercise and I strongly recommend trying it. In business parlance, it helps with prioritization, but to me it helps me live my life in a fuller way. It empowers me to be, more me.  Anchor dates like New Year or Birthdays just make for easier check points and help inculcate this as a habit.

Yes, I do write goals. My goals mostly centre around learning. Why, learning? Because it gives me joy. Something I have arrived at and owe to my annual retrospection. The joy of satiating my curiosity, of new experiences, the unexplored, of overcoming inhibitions, of feeling better equipped and most importantly progressing as per my own yardstick.

This year, amongst other goals, I set myself up to cook a new recipe every week. That is 53 unique dishes. No, I have no prior love for the kitchen. In fact, am seldom required to do much in that space except ensure availability of raw materials and think of what should comprise the next meal. Whatever little cooking I had indulged-in, in the past was using intuition and turned out bearable. The situation did not turn on its head even with the lockdown-moms are great cooks!

There is a brighter side to even the grimmest situations like COVID 19. By 30th April 2020, 36 days into the lockdown, I was at 60 unique dishes. I met my goal and it does deserve a celebratory mention but that is not why I write this. I write this to share my learnings, my joy and my journey.

Cooking is creative, it’s about experimenting, being spontaneous, improvising, being intuitive. Am not sure I can replicate a dish because I rarely follow a recipe. I do look them up to get an idea, though. Top it with the excitement and uncertainty of how it will turn out and it is pure dopamine.

Am a person who loves breadth in things. The plethora of cuisines and umpteen variations to a dish, gives me so many options to work with. At present, am especially drawn to the cuisines of India and understandably so. Indian cuisine is bursting with richness, spices, aroma, bold flavours, history and culture.

A recipe is more than a set of instructions. Food is such a large part of our culture and is teeming with stories. I enjoy exploring these back stories. Why we eat what we eat? If that stokes you, I recommend watching Raja Rasoi aur Anya Kahaniyaan. Amongst the chefs, and I have very limited knowledge of them, I find watching Chef Ranveer Brar’s recipes informative.

Speaking of culture, am so happy to be at my mum’s place. There is no better place to learn or person to learn from. One of her lessons to me, when I was a little girl, was to always clean alongside and never leave a mess, it has stuck like superglue.

Not to forget, I have my captive test subjects.  We eat as a family, enjoy our countless meals, chat and look forward to our favorites being cooked. How is that for instant gratification. Cooking is an act of love, reciprocated by full stomachs and satisfied faces. Its food for the soul. It is rewarding.

No two cooks in my opinion are identical, they lend their touch, they leave a signature. Not necessarily discernible but there. Cooking is personal. To me its absorbing too. I don’t really need music in the background, though I do play some at times. When I do, I have observed a proclivity for shabads. Working with all those colours and aromas in the kitchen is relaxing. Perhaps that explains my love for mandis and chopping too.

Practice makes one perfect and cooking is just that. Perhaps that’s why cooks get better with age, develop their hacks and grandma’s love with her practical experience makes for best chefs. I have realised that I am intrigued by the technical, the chemistry of cooking, the why’s. If I understand these fundamentals, I should be able to apply that knowledge to any dish. As of now I have chanced upon such content in nuggets but nothing structured. Should you know of a resource, please do share. Maybe a content creator can take a cue from this.

I am a lone operator; this maybe so because sometimes even I don’t know what I am doing or maybe because someone may disrupt my cherished moment of ambiguity either way a crowded kitchen is not my space. I consider 2 a crowd. Am yet to develop muscle memory in the kitchen until then I prefer to focus.

First-hand experience on behind the scenes has made me mindful in some ways. I choose healthier options both when preparing and eating. I bust some myths around my favourite dishes. I thought they were harmless green veggies, now I know what it takes to make those crispy Karelas. So lesser of baking, frying and other sinful cooking for me.  I am more conscious of wastage now- ever tried a watermelon ki sabzi-it is delicious. Making my masalas from the scratch is an olfactory delight and   is worth it in every other way. Finally, I respect my food more. I spend more time savouring it. I respect what has gone behind the cook. I pay more attention; I appreciate it more.

I want to leave you with an idea or maybe two. Prepare a dish as a present next time. Not only is it wonderful in so many ways it far outdoes an off-the-counter wine. Rekindle the tradition of sending your neighbour what you cooked and remember you never return an empty dish. I have my neighbour to thank for putting me back onto it.

To wrap it all- I have acquired a life skill, I shall survive. Some punjabi families might contest this since I am yet to make a stuffed parantha. Also, am sorry I don’t have any pictures to share, and that this has to be so bland. Not only was I too busy enjoying myself, I never thought I would be putting together a write up on it.

In a nutshell: I don’t know how good I am at cooking but I know that I am better at it than before.

Why I believe storytelling could make you happier.


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bookmark 2

That uncle and the nth repetition of his joke,

Those aunts and their banter on ol’ college furore.

We all have our favorite anecdotes,

That we have mastered over the years,

Retold and relived them without a bore.

We remember the past, we forget the recent,

Because creating memories too, needs commitment.

We add years, but the number of fun stories often don’t play catch up.

So here is why I think, your narrative to yourself, could be a deal maker.

Our brain tricks us,

False memories are a fact.

Each time you retell a story, it is not exactly the same.

It is a little more drama and a little more detail.

Each time it becomes more real.

What more,

we have free choice, in choosing our version

will it be amusing or dull and dry?

1st Jan 2017, I did this little exercise,

I recounted moments in the year gone by.

Moments that made me smile.

Revelation it was!

Centered around people, experiences and even random conversations.

None of my achievements got featured.

It wasn’t what I did, but how I felt that lived-on.

So I do a little more of what makes me happy from then-on.

Telling ourselves. our daily story is like setting anchors.

It is much like organizing ,

Putting up signboards and sticky notes.

It is correlating happenings with emotions,

Making it easy to find one another.

It is empowering, because these stories are ours to own.

Bookmarking them though, requires conscious effort,

Daily, weekly, monthly or annual recapitulation.

You may use a map on often traveled routes,

but do you need one to walk through the gate of your school?

Rethink how you respond to a mundane question like How your day was?

Rethink if it’s a mundane question, at all.

PS: Stories are forever!

Nivrtti


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Rukhi aidiyoon main ab bas rahi hai duniya,

Aankhein jee rahi hain, roz ek naya qissa.

Naye log, naye hai ehsaas,

Jeevan jeene ka yeh nav-abhaas

Drishy jo kitni bar-dekh, bhi andekhein the,

Saamay ki ankahi dhool main, dafne the,

Muskaan ki jhurriyoon main aaj ubhar rahe hain.

Meri gheri, pehli, swach swaas.

Nivritt, here, implies freedom from responsibility, retirement.

 

BANDISH


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Ek bewafaai aur mili tumhari jeb se,
Siahi ke nishaan, ek muchade hue bill pe.
Kuch der sambhale rakha unhe,
Maine apne mathe ki shikan pe.
Befikr nazar churai tumne,
Main bhi muskura di,
Tumhare lateefe ki ot main,
Din ka varnan, awaaz main hasee aur ulass.
Chaha tumse pooch hi lu aaj,
Laboon tak laakar, rukh gayi kitni baar.
Goonj us sawaal ki,
Shanka mere mann Ki
Kitne kadam door ho tum, es dayere paar
Us siahi ko toh baha diya maine,
Katra katra kar, jeeni hogi, ab yeh daraar.

Kaal


You know its been a great weekend, when on a Monday, you pull out the scribbling on the back of an industry report, to update a long forgotten blog. An inspired moment, unedited, a first in hindi for me.

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Kaal

Is shor main jo ulajhta ja raha hoon,

Apne mann ke dhagaon ko-bun,

Kabhi udhaidta ja raha hoon

Zindagi ke pal jo beet ja rahe hain

Unhe samait,

Sulajhta ja raha hoon.

Seekh raha hoon,

Sambhal raha hoon.

Apni ki hui galtiyoon pe kabhi itra,

Kabhi sukhoon bhi pa raha hoon.

Mudh ke dekhna, galat nahi.

Aage jo hai, uske beetne pe,

Apne kal ki udharana pata ja raha hoon.

Meri lakiroon main, meri gaatha nahi.

Khud ki jeevani, main likhta aa raha hoon,

Guroor ya abhimaan hai,

Vidhata ki kuch dain bhi.

Karamoon ke upkaar,

Aage apne soch ke buland iraadon pe chaltein ja raha hoon.