THURSDAY, APRIL 25, 2024
Sandhya Vasudev
Some live to eat, others eat to live, but I simply “die” to eat. But sadly, I am on a "die-t” nowadays. A couple of years ago I had enrolled at a nature cure centre wherein I was served food that was fit for a new-born. You guessed it; there was no spice and very little salt. I had sweets, the ambrosial food for the sweet toothed, only in my sweet dreams. I quickly began to learn that I had some unlearning to do. I had nursed the notion that the route to the peak of health was ingesting nearly a gallon of water daily. But this was pooh-poohed by the coach who asked, "Are you a gymnast?" I shook my head, feeling puzzled. "Then rest assured your kidneys will fail in no time." I stared back, with utter stupidity reflected all over my face. "See, when you don't sweat like a gymnast then how will all the ingested water be expelled from the body? Think!" Light dawned on me.
I was a late sleeper but soon 10 p.m. became the new midnight. The unlearning happened naturally, because a shrill bell went off at 5 am, the time of my deepest slumber. I had to rush to the morning session of yoga after freshening up. Breakfast was at 8 am, which had normally been my morning cuppa time. When I demanded coffee, I was given a look that made me forget coffee for days to come. Fortunately tea was served, but as part of the breakfast, and would turn cold if left till the end. So I would greedily drink the hot tea as soon as it was served, although this meant a little less of food. Was that perhaps the idea? I learnt that water also undergoes the process of digestion and so needs to be consumed in limited quantities. “If you want to turn fatter, drink water after a meal”, said the expert. The reason for my steady weight gain hit me then!
Armed with a good amount of knowledge and practical training I returned home. The sight of the food which I normally eat - spicy - made my mouth water, and I dug into it as if there was no bottom. Very soon pangs of remorse hit me and I determined to exercise restraint when and where possible. Soon the inevitable social outing happened, and I was face to face with a lavish spread, most of which was not endorsed by the trainers. I chose a few items ignoring the tempting ones with difficulty. Soon after, I was joined by my friend - more horizontally prone than vertically - who incidentally was on a diet too, although her plate did not indicate that. She was voluble, “My trainer is very strict,” she began. “I am allowed to eat either two small portions of rice, or two rotis at a time, with two cups of vegetables.” I pointedly stared at the rasamalai, pakoras and manchurian lying on her plate, and she eyed them too with resignation writ on her face. She sighed, "Yeah I know, no sweets or deep fried items, but I make up for this in my next meal by eating less.” She nodded vigorously as if to convince herself, and I tried my best to hide a smile.
