Friday, May 23, 2008

A day of Detox

Here's how to spent a day in detox:

Items needed:
Seasonal fruits - 1/2 kilo each
Juicer or a sharp knife (to make fruit salad)
Good books or movies
Walking shoes

6am – 4 glasses of water; drink in 5-minute intervals
9am - a glass of mosambi/water melon/limejuice+honey
10am – a glass of hot water with jeera
11pm – again, a glass of mosambi/water melon/limejuice+honey
12:30pm - 1 big bowl of fruit salad
1:00am - Be prepared for a marathon headache or craving for fried items
1:30pm - 1 glass of mosambi juice
3:30pm - 1 glass of orange juice
4:30pm - Murderous rage; inclination to kill anybody who's eating a samosa
5:00pm - One bowl of water melon + banana + guava chunks
6:00pm - An urge to howl or sob. You want to bite into a chicken leg - fried or raw, it won't matter now. For the love of Jalebis, RESIST!
7:30pm - 1 bowl of orange + mango + Nungu chunks
8:30pm - An amazing feeling of freshness and rigour
9:00pm - 1 bowl of Noi Kanchi (rice porridge)
10:00pm - Go to bed with a great smile. You have done it!

So what to do between drinking juices and slowly going mad?
In the morning, read a book (I finished "The Accidental Tourist").
In the afternoon, see a movie (I saw "Absence of Malice"). Alternately, you can also spend some time in the spa or a salon, pampering yourself.
In the evening, go for a walk. You can also work on a hobby, explore the Internet, catch up on old email or update your blog.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008


Back when I was doing my college, the worst thing you could be in India is… slim.

I was reed-thin and clothes hung on my frame delicately. People were always concerned about my health (“Are you sure you aren’t anemic?”). Relatives scolded my mother for not feeding me properly. I still remember a cousin’s mocking query. “Why is your body like a cylinder?”

And of course, men always like an hourglass figure, right?

Thus began my quest to put ““more meat on my bones”. I went on a gastronomic rampage. I started my mornings with roasted pancakes and huge dollops of cow’s butter. Afternoon saw me attacking chicken biriyani and meat patties. In the evening, I devoured deep-fried onion pakoras and I usually went to sleep after a heavy dinner of chapattis and cheese buttermasala.

My skin and body told me that it felt ill to consume such food everyday. I didn’t bother to listen. My sole aim was to turn into a lush Indian goddess and my body better be under my command.

My body eventually started to change. My face got round and the cheeks fleshed out. My stomach dropped and my clothes didn’t fit me anymore. I started to slouch and began to walk slower than ever. One fine day, I stopped by the mirror.

Oh no! This was no goddess staring back. True, I was not a cylinder any more. But I was not an hourglass either. I had become neither sensual nor sexy. I was in fact, looking like an inverted cone with sick, bloated features.