The Difficulty of Being a Fatso


I AM FAT. Huge. Elephantine.

No, this isn’t a tell-all memoir. Nor am I in a confess-all mood. I had a realisation. And it happened at the men’s casuals section of Pantaloons in South City mall.

I went to the store recently with my friends looking for t-shirts. As I was rummaging through the UMM collection, a store attendant came along.

‘What’s your size, sir?’ he asked, smiling.

‘Eh... XL,’ I whispered and took a quick look around. Thank God, no one heard me.

‘XL? Are you sure?’ he asked doubtfully, his gaze fixated on my ever-protruding paunch.

I threw him a scowl and stomped towards the trial room, trying hard to push in my tummy by chocking my breath.

I was wrong. And embarrassingly cocky. The t-shirt didn’t fit me. Nor the next half a dozens (yes, you read it correctly) that I tried out. Each of them got obstructed at my misshapen potbelly. I thought I wouldn’t grow larger than the ‘extra-large’ tag. But then I forgot that nothing is constant in the world. Not even my paunch. As I kept gorging on ice creams, chocolates, biriyani and KFC chicken buckets, my body kept on expanding in all directions turning me into a fat ki factory.

Coming out of the trial room I spotted the attendant again, still smiling — though his smile now looked more like a ‘see-I-told-you-it-will-not-fit’ smirk.

Finally I had to give up, and give in. I bought an XXL t-shirt, quite ashamed at my burgeoning size. My friends ‘advised’ me to have a look at the ALL section — specially designed clothes for oversized people (a sweetened way to say ‘you are fat, so stay away from the fashionable stuff’). They even consoled me by calling me a ‘size zero’ figure. ‘After all, you look like a perfect zero — round from all angles. Puro football!’ chuckled one of them.

Round is also a shape, I want to protest. But it’s not easy for my feeble voice to cut across the layers of fat treasured over the years and still be heard. I’ve been christened by my friends quite a few times — fatso, mota, haathi, paunch potato, ‘sumo wrestler in the making’, chhoto-khato monster and a host of other names.

Girls believe I personify nerdiness. I once went to a model-hunt competition (as a spectator, of course). Watching the hour-glass girls and trapezoid-shaped guys walk the ramp, I understood why I was such a turn-off for girls. Whenever I try to hit on a girl, it’s my peeping paunch that catches her attention first. After all, why settle for a Saurabh Shukla when you have lots of John Abrahams and Ranbir Kapoors roaming around?

My mom religiously believes I’m just a little ‘healthy’, and not ‘fat’ per se. ‘It shows you’re well fed and not like those anexoric hungry-looking guys on the streets,’ she argues. But then you know moms are always your worst critic. Desperate to lose weight, I immersed myself in such pain-inflicting activities as doing yoga regularly, following a strict diet chart, avoiding all sorts of carbs, and the most painful of all, saying ‘no’ to mutton biriyani, chocolates, pizzas and other junk foods. I even started hitting the gym. But all these sacrifices failed to reduce my waistline from 38 inches to 36. Whenever I go for shopping jeans, I get to listen to the same apologetic statement: ‘Sorry Sir, but this jeans doesn’t come in your size.’ Phew!

I know my image doesn’t fit in the mirror often. I know I incur my fellow passengers’ wrath whenever I share an auto seat and almost make them fall off. I know I might very soon score a century when it comes to my body weight. And I know I’ve by now crushed out all chances of getting a girlfriend. But I’ve also realised that I simply can’t stay away from all those things that make your weight shoot up faster than the country’s population. Being fat and being a foodie after all go hand in hand. So no matter how hard I try to achieve the ‘sexy hunk’ persona, I end up being the one I always am. Fatso.


Image courtesy: Anindya Kundu

Love or Something Like It

ROMANTIC COMEDIES ARE infectious. They get to you, stay there and turn you into an addict. It has happened with me. And now I’ve been turned into a RCA (Rom-Com Addict, silly). Most people, however, have a disregard for the rom-com genre. It’s shallow, unrealistic, pretentious and celebrates an ‘oh-so-perfect’ notion of life and love, they argue (as if I care!). Given a choice, I would any day prefer a rom-com than sit through some high brow art house stuff and pretend to ‘love’ the movie in the end. Rom-coms are girly stuff. Boys love action and sci-fi flicks, some of my friends believe. But would they have said such a thing had they watched Pretty Woman or When Harry Met Sally, I wonder.

Of the innumerable rom-coms that I’ve watched, here’s a list of half a dozen of them. These lesser-known films figure nowhere in the ‘10 best romantic comedies of all time’ or ‘20 rom-coms to watch before you die’ lists. They aren’t box office bumpers nor are critically acclaimed. But then as Sajid Khan says ‘damn the critics’, I extend my unflinching loyalty towards these superb six. I would love to watch them over and over again.


Love Actually (Dir: Richard Curtis)

‘I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes, Love is all around me, and so the feeling grows’ — these opening lines of The Troggs’ classic hit quite sum up the mood and spirit of this uplifting love story. Set in London five weeks before Christmas, the spot on directorial debut of Curtis (he’s penned some of the most endearing romantic comedies — Four Weddings and a Funeral, Notting Hill, Bridget Jones’s Diary) follows the interrelated stories of a dozen or so individuals as they embark on the journey called love. Billy Mack, Joe, David, Natalie, Juliet, Peter, Mark, Jamie, Aurélia, Harry, Karen, Sam, Joanna, Sarah, Karl, John, Judy — the way they fall in and out of love, sometimes with the right person, sometimes with the wrong one, makes this ‘love British style’ rom-com irresistibly enchanting. Curtis’s deft screenplay laced with humour, wit, warmth, romance and most importantly a pitch-perfect ensemble cast (Rowan ‘Mr. Bean’ Atkinson in his miniscule role gives a glimpse about the acting prowess of the other major players) will ‘actually’ make you fall in love with the film. So much so that you might end up having a ‘sneaky feeling’ that love actually is all around!

Runaway Bride (Dir: Garry Marshall)

A wedding-phobic small-town girl who has a habit of leaving her grooms-to-be at the altar, a fired-from-job big-city journalist who after writing an offensive column about her now seeks ‘vindication’ and the quaint little town of Hale, Maryland — that’s what Runaway Bride is all about, and much more. On first viewing, the bride-on-the-run couldn’t steal my heart the way a certain Pretty Woman did years ago. Even the Marshall-Roberts-Gere troika didn’t seem to work too well. But then love doesn’t always happen at first sight, isn’t it? The enticing storyline, the Julia-Richard star romance, a first rate supporting cast, the small-town atmosphere, tongue-in-cheek humour, witty one liners — all these make Runaway Bride an amusing tale of love and fun. Wow moment: when Julia ‘Maggie’ Roberts, while proposing to Richard ‘Ike’ Gere, gets down on her knees and says some of the most romantic lines I’ve ever heard, “I guarantee that we’ll have tough times. And I guarantee that at some point one or both of us will want to get out. But I also guarantee that if I don’t ask you to be mine, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Because I know in my heart, you’re the only one for me.”

A Lot Like Love (Dir: Nigel Cole)

Ashton Kutcher is no Billy Crystal. Amanda Peet isn’t Meg Ryan either. Nor is A Lot Like Love anywhere close to the cult classic When Harry Met Sally. But there’s something captivating about this rom-com that keeps me glued to the TV screen whenever it’s shown on Zee Studio (and that’s quite often). Two ‘poles apart’ individuals — Oliver and Emily — keep on coming together and drifting away over the course of seven years as their relationship evolves from lust to friendship to love, until they finally realise that they are, indeed, made for each other. Ashton Kutcher is dumb as ever (he’s the perfect choice for such dumbass roles these days, since he doesn’t need to act). But it is Amanda Peet who overshadowed Kutcher all the way and even made his histrionics look lovable. She exudes such a rare charm every time she comes on screen that you can’t help but get smitten by her. Thanks to a witty script, refreshing direction and Amanda-magic, the film stops short of degenerating into a run-of-the-mill bland love story.

10 Items or Less (Dir: Brad Silberling)

This small independent film defies rom-com rules in many ways. It doesn’t preach ‘happily ever after’ nor does it have the saccharine sweetness and melodrama of love stories that at times make you feel diabetic. The lead players (Morgan Freeman and Paz Vega) are far from being conventional ‘teen heart-throb’ romantic leads, and the film doesn’t boast of magnificent locations or Hollywood glitz. 10 Items or Less isn’t a love story per se. There’s no hint of a traditional romantic affair between Freeman and Vega. But there are strong undercurrents of love, longing, friendship and passion running throughout. A movie star (Freeman), while researching for the role of a supermarket manager arrives at a small supermarket in a poor Latin neighbourhood. There he befriends the store cashier (Vega) and the initially mismatched pair ends up driving around Los Angeles. As the conversations open up, they begin to share and explore each other’s worlds. The refreshing narrative, witty humour, crackling chemistry between the leads (Vega’s Spanglish gives a déjà vu of Penélope Cruz) and smart direction make this film a rare cinematic experience.

Wimbledon (Dir: Richard Loncraine)

The critics called Wimbledon a ‘crowd-pleaser.’ Surely, it isn’t helluva great film. But what matters most is that the film has its heart at the right place. Its warmth, intimacy and good-heartedness strikes a chord with the viewers and you can’t help but like this mint-fresh sports rom-com. Washed-out tennis player Peter (Paul Bettany) whose rank has dropped to 119th in the world gets a wild card entry to his final Wimbledon tournament. There he falls for young, hot-shot American tennis pro Lizzie (Kirsten Dunst). As love grows between the two, Peter gets the inspiration and reason to win. But as Lizzie has given a new lease of life to Peter’s dying tennis career, he too must see her continue to win. Wimbledon has the charm, subtlety, wit and good humour of British rom-coms that rejuvenates the otherwise predictable storyline. Bettany’s good looks and ‘offbeat charm’ is a welcome departure from his negative acts (à la The Da Vinci Code) and establishes him as a lovable lead actor. Dunst is sparkling and makes the tennis matches all the more watchable.

Elizabethtown (Dir: Cameron Crowe)

Did Imtiaz Ali watch Elizabethtown while scripting Jab We Met? The similarities between the two movies can't be ignored. Shoe designer Drew (Orlando Bloom), fired from his job and dumped by his girlfriend, decides to commit suicide, when he is interrupted by a phone call informing him of the death of his father. So he postpones his suicide plan and leaves for Elizabethtown to bring back his father’s body. On the flight he meets a talkative, warm hearted flight attendant Claire (Kirsten Dunst) who changes his perspective of life, relationships and love (ring any bells?) and helps him discover the possibilities of his own destiny. Now a completely transformed person, Drew embarks on a journey in search of the girl who had brought his life back on track. Bloom gives an amazingly restrained performance, balancing between pensiveness and his desire to let go. Dunst is the ‘zing’ factor. She brightens up the screen every time she comes in and the magic lingers even after she’s off the screen. The road trip that Bloom sets out in the end elevates this bittersweet romantic comedy-cum-celebration of life-cum-road movie into something more poignant. And we realize, as the makers say, the best things in life happen when you least expect them.