The Theories of Something

A long distance connection with a <1% chance of ever form of survival.

A voluntary life of struggle taken up with bludgeoning guilt overpowered by the idea that love conquers all.

An unlikely connect of minds and souls overlooking a connect of the physical being.

An attachment borne of necessity. A necessity to disregard loneliness that crept from deliberate neglect.

This year started on a promising note for me. Cinematically speaking. Art and inspiration from life wasn’t dead after all. Hollywood (but of course) bravely paraded real life dramas and stories, each brilliantly performed and executed, each expectedly leaving one to THINK once the credits rolled. I’m not sure if every member of the audience picked up on the underlying thread of conundrum that ran through the lives of the real people depicted on reel as well as the lives of the reel people who were under tremendous pressure to bring this to screen.

Here is what I picked up: Humanity, Humanness, Being human. Clichéd. Yes. This is an era of disconnect and judgment. An era of carelessness, selfishness and temporary greed. Everything must be acquired quickly, with zero pressure or effort and everything and everyone is effervescently dispensable. Everything and everyone must be ‘blissfully’ aware and accept this reality or “get over it already”. And all of this falls under a new fascist undermined category YOLO. Yep just like everything… apparently, this too is a magnanimously arrogant abbreviation.

The stories depicted in American Sniper, The Theory of Everything, Foxcatcher and The Imitation Game all bore semblance and yet recited individual stories. I could relate to the main characters but not walk in their shoes in real time. They involved the struggle and gamble of an Iraqi war veteran fighting inexplicable demons collated over 4 tours, the astounding survival and coping mechanism of Stephen Hawkings, a ‘different’ and mentally sidelined math genius coming to terms with who or what he really is and the ultimate battle of loneliness and acceptance of a wealthy man raised to feel like he didn’t belong anywhere. People may know slivers of THEIR story but the silver screen depicted the stories of the people who made THEM and struggled with them. Their families, friends, circumstances and members who came and went in a blink yet changed their lives for a spin. The movies packed in all their tears and agonies and moments of indecent weakness in 2-3hrs tops. But real life documents years and minutes and hours that feel like ‘space time’ on the reel. THAT is what I took away. To imagine walking in their shoes for more than what I saw. To imagine the depth of their feelings. To imagine their limitations and their attitude to life. To imagine and maybe practice any of it to my benefit.

It’s always easier to imagine than believe or experience. Apathy grows from lack of imagination or experience. Apathy has become the natural order of things. “So what. It happens to everyone. Forget it. Move on.” Almost mocking the argument that humans and their emotions aren’t switches. We are expected to switch on and switch off now more than ever. The end of connections and relationships is ‘convenient’. Disability (mental or physical) are rationales for abandonment. A stray person who has no clue of your foundations has the ability to shake it and relocate it in a matter of seconds. Social media is the common enemy and the boon – it reminds me of Skynet Systems in The Terminator (franchise) where robots and computers meant to fix the world ultimately become the arch enemy. Social media plays such a diabolical role. All the referenced movies didn’t have the ‘evils’ of social media or simply translated as – easy access to the EXIT signs from life. They stopped. Took a breath. Shed a tear or more. Listened. Confronted. Introspected. Smiled. Provided comfort and security. Measured friendship and love in one person. Moved forward. Helped build vs. destroy. Empathized. Worked for betterment and lived within each other’s realm than outside.

One of the strangest questions I was thrown after ‘The Theory of Everything’ screening was would I have forgiven Jane Wilde for her momentary lapse. The question was also sarcastically burdened on my morale compass because I was expected to NOT forgive her and if I did then how did I advocate cheating. I was no one to forgive or judge Jane Wilde-Hawking’s character or the real person. She wasn’t looking for thrill in the woods and her intent wasn’t one of abandonment of her husband, her family or even her duties toward Stephen. She was a tireless, vulnerable and struggling woman who had voluntarily and lovingly kept her commitment to Stephen but never anticipated the valleys that would draw her to absolute darkness. How could anyone anticipate so? She didn’t leave Stephen and her duties and commitment were unfaltering. She wasn’t complaining or bad mouthing her partner. She wasn’t taking to social media for sympathy votes or measuring her current market status despite the upheaval of her personal woes. She wasn’t neglecting her husband or family and throwing tantrums or attitude to showcase her martyrdom. She didn’t call on thrills or embarrass herself in alcohol or substances to use them as excuses for her ‘supposedly’ momentary lapse of common sense. There was no cruelty in Jane Wilde. There was no cruelty in Chris Kyle’s reaction to his ever suffering and agonized spouse. There was no apathy in Joan Clarke as she embraced mind over body with Alan Turing, accepting his homosexual self (this coming from that period and time when it was a punishable offense). There was no impatience in Dave Schultz when he left everything and eventually died despite struggling with an egotistical emotionally wavered brother and an equally fragile John DuPont.

I have had a considerably luxurious life when I look at them and imagine million others whose lives and chronicles haven’t made it to a book or screen. I think less now when Abeer doesn’t ‘measure up’ to my visual compass and instead open the view to ‘panorama’ to capture what I am missing from his expression of love and comfort. I aim to be calmer and less displaying of my emotions. Not everything needed to be in the open. I intend to find more of myself or rather regain what I have lost of my identity. I intend to be vocal about what matters to me and then let go if it refused to come within compromising radii of it. I intend a lot of things.

Most importantly, I intend not to forget these lessons and add more and more humbling equations to build this equation till my last breath.

Gone in 60…something! (The Fit post)

This is my burn post. Where I am burning all the bad and negative stuff. Ok FAT. That’s what I am burning. Sigh. A few weeks back, I was in Gokarna donning my 1^st ever bikini which I bought (btw) in Goa with the help of a friend 2-freaking-years ago. It hit me then. What exactly had held me back from donning it beyond my room and almost packing it for all trips? It never left the bag nor did it see decent sunlight. Moreover, when in Gokarna, despite being with Abeer, I was painfully shy to be tramping around in it so I camouflaged it.

To be fair I’m the kinda person who won’t dress inappropriately or in a way that suggests that I stuffed a whole turkey in a pig intestine. That was a gross but pretty accurate point. After some unfashionable disasters during my very confusing and ill-informed teenage years, I took dressing up pretty seriously. I don’t follow the latest fashion and neither am I a clothes horse. But I will wear what I fancy and ensure that I am not the subject of ‘hawww’ when I make an entry. I have been thus far successful. But my struggle with weight is the only thing that stands between my passion for dressing up and shutting myself in a loft above my bathroom heater. I am blessed with a man who adores my curves and never holds back from letting me know that. Perhaps that’s what also prompted me to take matters into my hands. See there is only so much you can praise your better half and then NOT look at someone else. So I don’t expect my partner to have ‘eyes only for me’ if I go from Monica Belluci to the pool lady in Good Luck Chuck. I felt physically ill, grumpy, not so attractive and pitiful living off previous compliments. Sure enough, I got curvier and thankfully didn’t look distasteful. But if I’d continued down this path, I sure as hell wouldn’t have liked myself. It was 6+ months since my surgery and it was high time, I did more than just walks and a few stretches. This was gonna need some real muscle.

So 1 fine evening, after another quip from Abeer of how I made him fat (indirectly), I took him to dinner and declared this was my last real indulgence – the Philadelphia cheesecake. For at least a while. He didn’t believe me. The next day I embarked on the famous GM Diet. I love this diet. It was about plato breaking, nourishment and no starvation. I am not a dietician but this diet made sense to me and was easiest to follow. I was also to combine it with some hardcore workout. And so I began. I gotta tell you it was tough. 1 day all fruits. 1 day all veges. Etc etc. it did get to me. Yes, I loved the wholesome crunchy fruits and veges that I gorged on. But being mentally aware that THAT was all I could have is the trick I had to dodge. So I cheated a lil. I added nuts and kokum sherbet to my day. I worked my ass off to lose the retained water and the comfortably nestled adipose tissues. It was time to get leaner and meaner. I thought of myself and Abeer. I thought of the times I was unfit and unhealthy and the times I envied a fit girl or a dress I dared not even try. To give my psyche more to agonize and squeeze in some motivation, I tried on my birthday dress and my Christmas dress. Both are body fitted pencil straight. You cannot cheat your shape in them. That’s all I needed. 1 fit me and made me look bad and 1 zipped up after 10mins of intense breath holding. The motivation was Abeer loved me in those dresses and there was a time not too long ago that I had fit in them. So it wasn’t impossible.

I cut carbs to the max but I recalled from the past how the skin and hair take the worst hit when you cut all cholesterol and fat. Wanted to look healthy and fit; not skinny, emaciated and ill. Wanted to retain the curves and look like a woman not a pencil. About the same time, Abeer rejoined the gym and hit it hard like no one’s business. After many weeks of trying to find a common workout ground we both realized, he was the lone training gym guy and I was the outdoorsy and group workout girl. We both loved fitness. That’s all we needed and we motivated each other. We share our workouts and how we feel post that. That way our meals are also aligned to not let the workout go waste – ok that is still WIP. Abeer was kind enough to align his Tues-Thurs workout with my capoeira classes which I restarted. It took much convincing and coaxing that I would not let myself burnout or get injured and I wouldn’t let capoeira overshadow our quality time together. It’s just a start but we’ll get there. Seeing him workout to better himself only made me push harder.

Couple of things I re-realized in the last 1 month. I was constantly checking the scales contrary to my own beliefs where inches trump kilos. That’s cuz my workout adds a lot of muscle weight so looking at the scale defeats my purpose. At the same time, for a woman that time of the month is a huuuggee variation. Water retention, more inches, hunger pangs and wavering stamina. All of these vanish on day 2 or 3. I feel like I drop a ton. Again weighing or measuring myself in these times was another waste – mental note. The body also shows nutritional deficiencies sometimes through cravings. So 1 must be aware of at least basic health science to know why 1s body acts a certain way. That was what I started paying attention to. Took advantage of the fact that I worked from home.

The result till now is that I’ve dropped a few inches. I feel lighter and fresher. Sleep, which usually evades me, was a natural outcome of the exhaustion. And mind you – sleeping burns fat. Just getting started was the deal. The rest was a natural course and there is no stopping from here on forward. I do workout for myself but the majority of my motivation comes from Abeer. He wanting to be fit pushes me and makes me wanna be a better person for him as well. Earlier I got carried away and pushed my body 10x beyond its capacity – a mistake I won’t repeat. No point in going ‘off season’ and then doing damage control. No conforming to other body shapes, types or health. They aren’t me and I am not them. I have also learnt to recognize the good pain/soreness vs the bad one. The one that makes you sick and you can barely walk. Not worth it. Everyone who asks me about anything related to fitness; I tell them 2 things: 1) I am no expert 2) Find your OWN workout. Not what others think you should do. I need to enjoy my activities so I can do them honestly and for longer. Else it feels worse than labor and wont give me my results.

Right now I’ve restarted after busting 2 knees and nearly damaging a lot of body parts. It took so much for me to calm down and find a wholesome, healthier approach to working out. This time around I am not waiting for my perfect body. I am just gonna get there and work at keeping it…. :D