My sister got married around 2 years ago. I was 23 then, and a little on the ”healthier” side. You know, a few kilos over my ideal weight. While I was perfectly okay with the way my body had adapted to my irregular eating habits, my beloved relatives at the reception clearly weren’t pleased at all.
Super quick to notice my extra pounds, they thought it was a national emergency and it was imperative to give me a solution aka a list of ‘Things To Do To Lose Weight’
“Honey with warm water peeya karo, weight ekdum se kam ho jayega”
“Stop eating junk and you’ll be fine.”
“Beta, paani zyada peeyogi toh khana kam ho jayega. It’ll help you lose weight.”
Even some of my well-meaning friends went to the length of suggesting a few diets for me. I wanted to say, “Diet my ass”, at that moment, but I chose to gulp down my anger with a glass of whiskey instead.
But it got me thinking: When did it become okay for random people to strike a conversation about my weight like it was an ice breaker?
Why is my weight everyone’s concern?
Apparently, weight, particularly a woman’s, seems to be everyone’s concern.
From the big brands to the matrimonial ads, everyone wants to sell their wares, but only to the ‘perfect’ woman. Because if you ain’t perfect, then you probably do not deserve it.
Every matrimonial ad is a desperate search for a ‘slim’ and ‘fair’ woman. And every other flashy billboard is plastered with ridiculously Photoshopped women, making you feel like shit.
There was a time when the voluptuous women on the walls of Khajuraho were considered to be the apt portrayal of the average Indian woman. Beautifully curvaceous. And now, those very body types are shamed for being too fat.
From clothing brands to gym fanatics, everyone around us is constantly trying to tell us that people who aren’t their ideal weight do not belong.
Neither do they belong in a bodycon dress, nor in a lehenga-choli.
They do not belong in a certain colour because it makes them look fat. They do not belong in a certain cut because it accentuates all the wrong parts of their body.
They do not fit into our small minds, because hey, they are just too fat.
When we were kids, being rolu-polu was a good thing but in our 20s, “Lose that weight, will you? “, “How will you get a boy like this? “, “Shaadi karni hai ki nahin? ” are grave matters that need to be dealt with a far more serious concern.
When did our weight start defining us?
We’re so much more than our number on the weighing scale!
We’re bankers, writers, scientists, researchers, models and doctors. We’re good conversationalists, we have a great sense of humour and we can kick ass when need be. We love dancing and we’re crazy about karaoke.
But does anyone care?
When it’s time to get married, the only to-do list that men have is to get a job, buy a house, get settled and that’s about it. No one tells them to clinch their waist or to tone those flabby arms. No one tells them that their beer belly is offensive.
So why does a woman’s little paunch make you uncomfortable? Why do a few extra pounds on a woman make you cringe?
While there are one offs like Dum Laga Ke Haisha, and actresses like Amy Schumer and Richa Chadha, trying to make a difference in the way we perceive women, it is but a drop in the ocean. Other times, these ‘the ideal women’, are busy selling things from cements to perfumes.
But enough of people telling us what to do and how to be. Enough of putting up with those haters and gulping down the whiskey in the hopes that in our inebriated daze, we’ll forget and forgive everything.
Because honestly, my body is mine to judge. And I’m tired of everyone telling me what to do.
It’s mine to lose weight when I want to and to gain it if I need to. It’s mine with all its beautiful tiger stripes and darkened inner thighs, with its cute little pounds of flesh hanging from where my bra strap ends.