Jim and The Stroke of Good Luck
Never has anyone been so after me to do something than certain female members of my family who insist that I take some immediate counter-insurgency methods to ensure that the weapon of 'mass' does not destroy me. There we wide suggestions on the table right from going for a jog in the morning, to doing yoga, suryanamaskar, doing exercises etc. I finally settle on joining the gym as I thought that way I wouldn't be under the ever watchful eyes of the same pre-described member/s. So I went up to the local Gym to enroll.
So this lady tells me to come in the evening where she would get me an appointment with a certain 'Sir'. So I turn up in the evening to find this 'Sir' to be some sort of a 5-foot version of the dog in Tom and Jerry. Short, puffed up in the chest, and yes probably used to running around behind hapless prey like me. So he takes me to this super-secret locker room and asks me to strip. Then he like goes on measuring every freaking circle he can make around my body. I realize I had parts like uppper-abdomen, lower-something etc etc. which turn up radii which they shouldn't So he goes on rattling numbers and saying 'oh no ... oh no ...' while I stand there guessing at what the ideal number should be. Then he tells me to get dressed up and takes me to this weird machine where he sort of asks em to put my fingers around some sort of handle and asks me to wait for some time before he happily chirps around with the petite little receptionist about Abhishek Bachchan's look in Yuva. After I am thoroughly engrossed in listening to this extremely stimulating discussion the machine in my hand suddenly starts beeping and starts flashing some numbers. I even manage to see a few short forms rattled of here and there - you know like a pattern design. He again conjures up that grave face of his and starts shaking his head in some sort of deep contemplation. 'He says that your BMP is 30, that is too high we must do something... good u joined. see the effects blah blah....'. After much deep thought and after a second of asking someone I find out that BMP stands for body mass percentage, which turns out to be 30% for me. Then he gives me my card like a menu card to wholesomely devour. For starters we have bending, stretching.... for main : 3 set this 2 set that and then just as warming down you have to go up and down the stairs 5 times. Now unfortunately this particular gym is located in one of the newer constructions thereby having a good 6 floors and thereby going up and down 6 times even by the ever-present tempting lift was too tiring.
I finally settled into the routine of skipping some or the other part of my daily three course 'meal' and later promptly feasted myself to those amazingly hot and yummy samosas in the nearby sweet shop. The affair wasn't going to last for long. Even if I liked working out, listening to 'dhoom machale' everyday (both versions promptly played back to back at least 7 times) would have been motivation enough. I celebrated my separation with an extra samosa and told the initiators that I had suddenly become extremely academically oriented and wasn't getting enough time to study. That was the only way out really and it worked. Now that it seems that the effects of gymming have worn off and people desperately trying to convince me that even my neck is getting thicker have succeeded in ensuring that I restart my quest for biomolecular destruction.
However this time I chose something that I hope I will like. Today my friends was my first day at the wonderful art of trying to behave like birds and imitate the wide variety of insects that we have been fortunate to co-exist with - in water.
Here's to a good long stint in H20 + Cl2. May the neck grow thinner!
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Jim and The Stroke of Good Luck