an sms story49

as the sun's rays became warmer, darkening the skin of her neck,
she remembered how she used to adorn herself for Armaan's eyes only.
it was her silent gift to him...the sarees that meandered over the curves
of her supply slim body like transparent rivers.she usually wore chiffon ones.
yellow rivers, green rivers...n those long, bizzare earrings n loud lipsticks...
her body.she came to know the value of that only when she began  losing
the battle with fat.the love-handles on her once lovable, smooth, firm thighs.
the flat abdomen bulging with excess deposits, losing elasticity. and the toned
upper portion of her hands, soo sensual in sleeveless nighties...she had often tried
 to imagine how Armaan would react when he saw her in one, hanging ugly.

there was something very wrong with her fat n happy looks.her energy level was at its
 lowest. she has always been a modest eater.just a few mouthful of boiled potatoe in rice was
her favourite staple diet.she wasn't much fond of vegetables.she didn't take non-vegetarian
dishes either because....and in a Bengali society it was a fact hard to explain away.the 'i don't like it'
statement was a blasphemy for the Bengalis who swore by fish and was as fond of mutton curries on
Sundays. though mutton was losing its place fast to chicken-mania among the middle-class.

facial fat rendering her chiseled round face a blunt, vacant look, taking the
sheen of intellect away. and the pouch under her bright, almond eyes...
and she prayed that she never came face to face with Armaan in her 'bad hair' days.she
had never been vein about her looks much. but don't you feel sorry when you lose something
precious which you had reserved for someone special?...she pondered over
the word 'moti'.. fat, or pearl? where did he see her? when? why didn't he call out to her?
Couldn't?

Anna had tried upmarket gyms, tried Suryanamaskar at home..in her haphazard way.
 she was happy initially  that she was gaining weight..kind of feeling happy n confident.
a bit of fat fills one with a 'feeling good' mood, particularly when one is in a state of perpetual
depression and neck-deep in worries.the more fat she accumulated, the more she gorged on
dark chocolate, the newly launched Cadbury ones..affordable, within a hundred rupees.Anna took to
dry fruits like duck to water..almonds, pista, akhrot, sometimes finished a packet a day. appreciated
when she rubbed her nose-tip and saw oil coming out of the pores.her face didn't need
any moisturiser then and she became fairer than ever. people noticed.they commented
on her 'fair'ly beauty. she applied pink lipstick with a stark red Patiala salwar,
and she prayed that she came face to face with Armaan.

but under the shower, as the water ran like mild rain over the fat body, she choked.
couldn't recognize herself. the person she had identified herself with since her early
teenage days..slimness bordering on thinness, yet well filled up...strong shoulder-blades,
 two proud collar-bones, generous breasts, wide hips..were perfectly suited for
all kinds of dresses: saree, fitting salwar, jeans n figure-hugging tops.and her shoulder- length
straight, thin, silky hair.......

the Armaan of messages, when he bids her goodnight, imagines 'that' Anna, when
he calls her 'cute', he harks back olden days...but reality reigns in and he mocks
 'U R Old now'!.... she is not fat anymore..while she writes back to Armaan,
she runs her eyes over her figure,regaining the old thinness...and 'being old'?
she is not even close to that phase as far as outward looks are concerned...but how to
make him see?
              (to be contd.)