a terrible painter, a dreamer, a rebel , a feminist and a self certified bisexual Witch. Who is always trying to visualize whats on the other side of the canvas she paints,just another human- Living alive Life. Now also a green tea addict.

Monday, 29 February 2016

The Mad Family at its Healthiest.



Every day, health journals, newspapers, e-papers, magazines, blogs, micro-blogs, tumblr and infinite other portals publish pieces about physical well-being. The infamous The Awkward Yeti, has taken it upon himself to simplify the human body with art. In this age of acute health care system and personal development and hyper awareness about body, some humans take their bodies for granted, they would have been happier had medical science stuck to the treatment of humours.


Let’s face the easy facts, exercise is tough, giving upon on post-sunrise sleep is hardest. Our generation may be, has the perfect balance between health conscious crazy mode and hardcore lazy mode. Yes, we wish that our weight count would drop with each new ‘like’ increase on our Facebook post. Again the truth is, we have to drag our minds and butts too fix this lacuna in our mood swings. We might eat the street food, but we try to balance it out with green tea. Our generation is the dough that gets kneaded in this constant battle between health and laziness. I may not be the best example of health conscious soul, but I try to keep my own-self happy. But
today is not a day where I rant about my body, I am nicely packed in a small frame with curves to kill my enemy.


I am here to rant about the generation that raised us and the generation that preceded us by ten years. For this two generation I don’t need to stalk people on trains or cafes, I can simply peep through my whatsaap and find the examples sitting on my new phone screen.


I have an extremely lazy elder sister, a delicate but cunning brother-in-law, a crazy mother and borderline insane father and lunatic grandparents. And me? Well I am never claiming normalcy. This bloodline that I carry has never typed itself as normal.


My family, almost all of my family loves food. My sister and I are the two humans who are the picky eaters. Each member has blessed fingers for cooking and no matter how ill interested my skinny grandmother appears while cooking, we can bet the simple dal she makes tastes heavenly. My grandpa has magic fingers when it comes to mashing things up together, he would mash boil potato, eggs, rice and ghee. Then he would mix them with a pinch of salt into dense balls and feed us. My uncle has great talent with cutting vegetables and cooking pork. My mom, had she been born in the baking nations of Europe, could have had her own warmly, butter-chocolate smelling bakery. On other hand, the second laziest human on earth my dad, when forced into my mom shoes and kitchen and tied with apron fairs pretty well with his cooking skills. My brother-in-law is an added asset to this family of cooks, he will inherit all the traditional family recipes. My sister the laziest human on earth has inherited the skills of great cooks, but can surpass the whole family with her fast cooking skills when time is pressing.


So in this family of conscious and unconscious foodies, the question of health is proportional to the wealth we carry under our skins. My grandfather and grandmother perceive me as an immortal victim of 1933 feminine. My father no matter how much expanded and shaggy I was, always found “Shukna-Shukna” (dry-dry, rather juiceless). Our bloodline has history of gaining weight, hell we never produced skinny humans except for two species. But eventually we turn into pumpkins post-thirties and then turn into snake gourd in our old age.



This family has history of serious ailments, three generation of diabetics, three family member from same generation suffered from cancer, my grandmother is the sole proud survivor. My dad bought in case of weak heart and nerves, my grandfather bought week immunity and my brother-in-law is a constant victim of hay fever. I was a weakling, my immunity towards cold things is nil and my mother is a moving sack of ailments these days, the only strongest we have, is the satan of the house.
Honestly I have no sympathy for my parents who returned from a twenty-three days long medical honeymoon. My mom championed herself as a strong heart, she is fit, she is fine bla and bla. Now twenty three days later we know well the truth is far from it. A hearing aid can sum it all up for her. On other hand my insane father is always worried about his health. People may wonder why I have no sympathy for the old fellow. Well he smoked like a chimney, bought himself a heart attack fifteen years back. After that his inner soul woke up to the cause of health, a bloody little too late!


My father has all sort of wrong information and notion of exercise, he walks on wrong time of the day, does yoga on the precise time when it’s strictly forbidden and morphs into his own nutritionist almost fainting himself once with his boiled vegetable dishes!

  
My mom, is a classic woman, who forgets her blood pressure medication, has no worries about her health despite being overweight which has been causing fire in my brain. She is unmindful, disinterested and at times turns into a walking ghost of Vriginia Woolf in the house. The only thing that keeps her concentrated are the silly cat and happy bitch. Walking Miley every day might have kept her from tumbling into the well of heart diseases. She stands at borderline for multiple ailments.


Then comes the evil couple, no matter how round my elder sister becomes, my brother-in-law finds her to be perfect hourglass! May be I need to force him to check his eyes or he is watching from the wrong side of telescope. That sister of mine carries the same psyche that our mother and I do. We are not ill until and unless we are smashed in our guts and thrown to bed. I know being ill is irritating, and talking about illness is really depressing. A major reason I cant continue talks with my father these days is because, the senile man brings everything to death. You are allowed to think about your and other’s death, it’s a free country till date. But no one is allowed to dampen our happy spirit. My dad is a total mismatch for the family.


So my sister, who in next three years will turn into a blueberry like Violet from Charlie and Chocolate factory, really has hard skin like jackfruit. Every other night on phone I yell, I beg, I shout, I lament, to her. I ask her to lose weight but the lazy woman yawns it off. I may sound, sexist, body-prejudiced, fat-shaming, creepy, ugly soul who hankers after slim body. Honestly I am not. I am not a champion of body shaming or size-zero trend. Let’s face the problem, keeping one’s weight in control is a must these days, Huffington Posts, Womenshealth, Cosmopolitan, The New York Times are few to write about health regularly. If we can check on our weight, we may reduce the chances of harboring many illnesses. I am no medical expert, skinny people suffer from heart attack, beautiful people to have kidney failures, non-smokers have lung cancer. But why would I make sure that my body becomes a farming ground of disease without looking after it, like my mom and dad did and certain someone who is taking that path.


My dad complains of expensive medicines; my reply has been constantly heartless- The once smonke money, is now spent on repairing the damage left by sooth. My mom avoided doctors because she hates taking medicines and hates sitting for so many tests. For lest ten years, I have been pushing my parents to have a full body checkup, not only my parents but my grandparents too. I may sound a very concern daughter. In honesty I am afraid of being orphaned in my twenties, with the way things are unfolding with my silly parents, I am scared.


I care, I worry and that makes me cruel and blunt. If I had my way, I would drag my sister out of her home by her non-existent butt and make her skip, she is an expert with skipping rope. I would drag my brother-in-law and make him take trips through healing springs, dips in hot-water springs and sauna baths. I would force my father to a nutritionist, a psychologist and some post-retirement hobby club, and I would definitely admit my mom to a physio-therapy farm that would make her body aches go away. I would make my skinny as stick grandparents sit through check ups every month despite their pride protesting.



But all this would happen in an alternate universe, because this family has a crazy sense of will power for all the wrong reasons which even our pets exercise. And among this lot of crazies! I am puniest of all.



P.S- By the way Leonardo DiCaprio won his Oscar at last! But for the wrong film. 

thanking you to bear with me
paulOaries



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