2 Tiers and 2 Tears

What is wrong if you have two layers of extra skin? Why does the world go berserk about the flab which does not belong to them? What immense pleasure do they derive out of socially commenting on somebody’s double chin or 3 tiers? Even if I had an hourglass figure, the social commenter would anyway keep warning me about not including an extra teaspoon of oil or to take an irresistible second bite of a second sugar coated doughnut.  I don’t want to diet. I don’t want to do those daily morning weird yoga-aasans to get into a svelte shape.

I’m happy with those chubby arms which serve as a pillow to my loved ones, or that double chin that kids love to play with. People forget that if you’re fat, yes fat is the word, you’re also huggable, adorable and more lovable. With that extra cushion comes an extra layer of love which people fail to notice. So what if I’ve grown fat? Will the world collapse with an extra weight of 800 grams? Am I occupying their office chair and making them stand? I’m a harmless, happy-go-lucky, cute lady walking around the office and I’m certainly not throwing that weight around. So as I come back to my workstation, shedding two tears about those two tiers that a jerk heartlessly commented on, I wonder why is it a sin to be fat? Does it make me less competitive? Does it make me less beautiful? Does it make me less athletic? NO.  Then why do such comments matter to me? The truth is, it does. It somewhere hits my self confidence and the way I carry myself.

Yes, I too would like to fit into a Small or a Medium T-shirt. Every time I see ‘Large’ written on my t-shirt, it hurts.  I feel ridiculed. Probably, that’s the time I feel really ‘Small’.  It’s like an arranged marriage, where you’re asked to fall in love with that flab.  As a kid, when I ate all those mom-made delicacies, I didn’t realize that every milligram of sugar I consumed is not adding to just those tiers, but also to my tears.  So all those people with stick figure, you can rave about yourselves; but you will have to live with other shortcomings like- less adorable, less cute, less huggable, and less playable. I’m fat because I have a spare flab made of all your shortcomings.

Canteen wala, please take my order for one cheese toast sandwich, minus the cheese.