Well, if you thought this was a post about the most used F word in vocab or in thoughts or in action, it is not. I choose the second most used F word instead. When a person becomes fat, we blame one of the usual and general suspects -- eating habits, lack of exercise, questionable posture and sleep pattern. However, when a Bengali becomes fatter, we have the grand specific hurled at her, the eternal enemy, the crown on the plate -- rice. Tired of blaming my inactive and unhealthy lifestyle, I too, take solace in having the Rice as the Reason I have turned into this unattractive lump.
If you believe that body-shaming ain't correct, sorry hun and sorry bro, this is not gonna be a great read. Being fat is not just a social taboo, it is an individual battle. It is direct kilograms added to the invisible weight predominantly burdening the mind. In one life I have seen my body language sift through my face and fingers, from thin to fat to sexy to unfit. And each time, it inevitably clinges on that crown of confidence that refuses to show itself even to magic potions and pills.
What is it then, about being fat that makes me so uncomfortable? I do not fit into clothes that I feel I should be in, I am guilty to eat things I love to eat and movement angers me. Is this a life? It has only been about three-four years that I started getting compliments, it has been a couple since I was called attractive and charming, and it has been magical, knowing I am "lookable." So long, such were privileges other people were born with and fairer people had the undue luxury of.
If you believe that body-shaming ain't correct, sorry hun and sorry bro, this is not gonna be a great read. Being fat is not just a social taboo, it is an individual battle. It is direct kilograms added to the invisible weight predominantly burdening the mind. In one life I have seen my body language sift through my face and fingers, from thin to fat to sexy to unfit. And each time, it inevitably clinges on that crown of confidence that refuses to show itself even to magic potions and pills.
What is it then, about being fat that makes me so uncomfortable? I do not fit into clothes that I feel I should be in, I am guilty to eat things I love to eat and movement angers me. Is this a life? It has only been about three-four years that I started getting compliments, it has been a couple since I was called attractive and charming, and it has been magical, knowing I am "lookable." So long, such were privileges other people were born with and fairer people had the undue luxury of.
Have you identified your enemy? Is it the Chair you sit on for nine hours a day? Is it the Rice you gobble thrice? Or is it the Ice-Cream you cannot refuse? Congratulations. In my case, all of them and more. I tired out of trying the F-word on them, they don't wilt. You fish for compliments and there is only air, unlike the building army of fat around your waist. Is this a life? All that "your mind is sexy" and "your personality is sexy" is so shady without a fitted attire to shine out from. Does this sound demeaning and limiting? Well, Fat has fucked the fitness of my body and soul. Fat has stopped me from feeling fine and fat is here to stay.
If you are afraid, for yourself or for me, please suggest a motivating factor on kuntalasengupta@gmail.com that would help function upon remedies and exercises. Else, all is but an F word.
#FatAF. #SadAF. #MissBeingSexyAF.
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