A Weighty Question!
My gift was also within an envelope carefully created
from an old wedding card which was too pretty to throw away. My husband calls
my blood type the ‘magpie’ type, which is another name for ‘B Positive’, I
guess. Hoarding runs in our family, be it old letters, greeting cards from
people whose names have been forgotten, tiny notes, photographs that have
yellowed and look like nothing on earth and relics that could be sold for a fortune.
The mania does not stop there. I have crockery from the
time we got married which, after 36 years of wedlock, have never been used – a dinner
set which was a gift, a tea set which was too precious to use, little bowls and
mugs that would be of use one day (that day will come, I promise!), and shelves
overflowing with runners, napkins and table cloths which would have worked when
we were in the Army, but are of minimal use in civilian life. (Given the term,
I would have assumed that we should have turned more civil after we left the
Army! Unfortunately, not!)
As I sat in the audience and witnessed the wedding in all
its glory, there were a few highlights that wowed the crowd. The instruments, the
glorious stage décor, gorgeously attired people and of course, the hero and the
heroine of the hour. Just as we leant forward to enjoy the view, there appeared
a number of jean-clad backsides in front of the stage, and covered whatever we
needed to see; the photographers, with their tripods, their flash boys, and a
few ‘part of the paraphernalia’ folk who wanted to see the wedding close up.
As the couple exchanged garlands, and the groom tied the mangalsutra
around the bride’s neck, all we could hear were the commands from the
photographers about ‘going slow’ and ‘turning this side’. I craned my neck and
tried to peer through the cracks, (sorry, wrong word!), the gaps, because I had
no hope of ever seeing the video of the wedding later, since I was in no way
related to the bride or the groom. An enthusiastic aunt had insisted that I tag
along since she did not want to attend the wedding alone. Needless to say, she
had disappeared the moment she entered the hall, leaving me on my own, to
negotiate the thorny path of having to explain who on earth I was to a few
curious folks.
Suddenly, there appeared a familiar face, grinning like
the Cheshire cat when she spotted me.
“Am I happy to see you!” was her first sentence, loud and
clear. “I know no one here!”
“Join the gang!” I muttered, smiling back in relief. She
plonked herself on an empty chair next to me, and my relief lasted two seconds.
Having taken a cursory glance at the stage, she said, “As usual, it’s bottoms
up, right?” The music suddenly grew softer and her next question echoed round
the hall.
“Have you put on weight since I saw you last?”
I blanched, because heads swivelled around in an instant,
looking at me with gimlet stares, as I wondered if I could burrow into a hole
of my own making. The foghorn carried on, “Yes, you were always ‘cheeky’, even
when you were little.”
My cheeks had always been a topic of conversation. When I
was tiny, every person in the room would pinch them till I was pink in the
face. When I grew up, I was always the ‘cheekiest’ person in the room.
It was at that moment that I decided that I should have
some readymade answers to the weighty question.
I turned to my foghorn friend and said, “Well, isn’t it
the case of the pot calling the kettle back? You look rather prosperous
yourself!”
That diffused the situation and made me feel better.
So, now when the weighty question is thrown at me, I just
say,
“I think you are confusing my weight with my personality,
you know?”
Or, if it is to family and close friends, I say smugly,
“More of me to love, right?”
Some of the time, I smile and say, “Really? When was the
last time you visited your oculist?”
And the all-important retort, “I did see a picture of your
son/daughter in America. All those burgers and colas have made an impact on him/her.”
Of course, all these come backs make no sense if the
person receiving them has the hide of the proverbial rhinoceros.
What I have realised is that it is easier to comment, than to compliment. Body image has become all important, but what folks do not fathom is that the whole world does not need to be populated by perfect looking specimens. What makes us all unique are the quirks, the eccentricities, the different body shapes and the personalities we possess. Without them, the world would become a rather boring place. (Think of all those little green extra-terrestrial men running around!)
I still remember as a child loving those warm hugs given to me by my
grandmother and my aunts who were on the plump side. May their tribe increase!
And even as I write this post, the weight/wait continues…
As always, you tackle a 'heavy' topic with light hearted humour that makes this an interesting read. A totally enjoyable relatable piece of work. Well done
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Bhavana! I am thrilled that you enjoyed it. :)
DeleteSo so well written - hilarious and hits the nail on the head. As usual, you have outdone yourself 😀
ReplyDeleteThanks, my Pincha! So happy to hear that! <3
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