I F I am asked to list two things that I love doing, without batting an eyelid I will say, swimming and walking. A true-blue Aquarian, I simply love the water, and whenever I get a chance, I will slip into any body of water, and enjoy being a mermaid. Walking is another stressbuster for me - so while summers and a part of the mild winters are devoted to swimming, rest of the year I walk - walk like I am on a never-ending treadmill. There is a hidden agenda to these activities as well - I hope to lose a bit of flab. It has remained a dream so far, but I am one of those who believe, try, try and try and it will happen. Fingers crossed! One such morning, the sky was overcast with dark ominous looking clouds, ready to burst at any moment. As I was donning my swimsuit, my better half, looking concerned, walked in and dropped a bombshell. “Think twice before getting into the pool today,” he said, with the seriousness of a news anchor breaking news of a global catastrophe.

 

“Why?” I retorted, stuffing my goggles inside the gym bag. “Look at the weather. It’s going to pour, swimming can be risky. I just saw a reel whereabuffalo, cooling off in a muddy pool was struck by lightning. The reel has gone viral, it’s all over the social media,” his tone was casual, almost innocent. “Let me get this straight, so you are saying I shouldn’t be swimming as I could get struck by lightning ....like the buffalo.” Noticing the sudden chill in my tone, he blinked. Twice, and then visibly gulped. I saw his Adam’s apple pulsating. “You, in one sentence, not only labelled me as DARK, but also FAT - by likening me to a buffalo.” The iciness in my tone was apparent. Agreed I do not fit into the ‘Very Fair’ category-as standardised by Indians; agreed I am also on the plumper side - but pointing that out is a rude thing to do. He didn’t want to look me in the eye, and with a sheepish smile hovering on his lips, he slunk away. Even before I could digest this comparison, my phone pinged. It was my daughter, holidaying in Positano, a quaint picturesque coastal town in Italy. “Aai”, the excitement in the greeting was palpable, “I am sitting on the beach, and I could, at this moment, picture you - enjoying these aquamarine waters - splashing around like a buffalo.” My antennas shot up. Did the father daughter decide to conspire against me today?

 

Buffalo. Again! What is this new family fixation? Is there some WhatsApp group I’m not a part of? ‘Bovine Banter: Let’s compare Mom to buffaloes today?’ Sure, I am not sylph like. I do not have the grace of a ballerina. ButIhave the strength of a buffalo - because I exercise. Religiously! I swim, walk, stretch, even lift weights. But the truth is, I’ve always been very touchy about weight. And even though I workout, all this gets cancelled out because I am also a foodie. So I eat jalebis and work out - not so much for building those sculpted six pack abs, but simply to burn away the calories. And yet, friends and sometimes your own flesh and blood believe that commenting on a woman about her size is totally acceptable. Just a few days ago, while attending a family wedding, one of my aunts, whom I came across after a long time, looked me up and down, and remarked, “Arrey, the last time I saw you, you were so thin. Seems the years have agreed with you. You’ve put on quite a bit.” Yes, aunty, I was thin, I was just ten years old that time, and my metabolism was at its peak. This was murmured beneath my breath, because I am a People’s Pleaser, and will never be rude to someone on their face. At the same venue, another relative handed a double helping of biryani winking conspiratorially.Iwas downright offended, and then she said, “You can always walk this off”. Someone remarked on my new clothes. And how I never wear the same outfit again. Now how can I tell them that I outgrow the outfit just after wearing it once. That is how fast I gain - the weight. And outgrow the clothes. I mean, my kitchen and my wardrobe are testimony to the various diets, detoxes, and delusions I have undergone - year after year. The ‘no carb’ diet didn’t even last for two days, and the ‘green smoothie week’ ended when I mistook the amla hair oil for spinach, karela and kale juice and downed it in one gulp.

 

I have since then, stopped oiling my hair. Over the years, I have improved considerably and now I no longer let these rude comments affect me in any way. Just the other day, a friend in the office opined, “Ma’am love yourself. Aap kisi se kum nahin”. I do love myself, sometimes begrudgingly, most of the times whole-heartedly. Because no matter what the scales say, no matter the scoffs and sneers I come across at times, the mirror shows a woman who’s tried. And will continue to try. A woman, who has walked the extra mile.Awoman who has swum against the tide - both literally and metaphorically. So yes, my dear husband and daughter, I may resemble a buffalo in the water. But let’s look at it positively - buffaloes are strong, and steady, and care two hoots as to who’s watching as they cool off and soak in the joy. When I look at it this way - it is no longer an insult. And the optimist me will take it as a compliment. Though, let’s be honest-next time, I’d prefer to be called a dolphin.