I eat at my own pace (read slow, real slow). And my friends are happy. Why? Here’s why:
After the prodigious task of deciding where to eat and what to order in order to satisfy the eclectic appetites and yearnings of the diverse juntha, that I refer to as friends, we settle down to lunch/break fast (and on rare occasions dine) together. Now my friends eat at an insanely quick pace (or that’s what I think) ,and before I can say “gliba”, are done with their food.
Now comes the best part. While I battle my food bravely(did I hear somebody say patiently?), these guys get to do what they do best. P gets to use his razor sharp wit and has us in spits, Anju gets to take retake no 3 (man this will get me into trouble) of the-exciting-story-in-office, Su keeps count of the retake count and points it out rather politely (punctuated with a polite laugh that is so characteristic of him) ,T laughs at almost everything, Aragorn swings between alphenlibeying* and occasional sabotage of other people’s food and Di takes in all of this like a sponge and laughs randomly at a joke cracked at the other end of the table!! Now if that isn’t quality time what is?? So now you know why these guys are happy.
The situation at office is different. No, I haven’t started eating like all of you do.( The times they are changing my friend, but yours truly remains the same vintage self he was.) I still eat slow. But I am concerned about my office-lunch-mates.
While I battle my food (literally if I happen to have the cafeteria’s food) these guys finish their lunch, sit back and talk. And sooner or later somebody brings up office talk which figures around the no of bugs X’s been allocated, the enormous work and the looming deadline that Y’s battling and so on. And I am concerned for these guys, for office talk if taken in large doses has been known to affect humour, health and personality. So I look at the state of these guys’ plates and when they are about to finish, I remark at the enormous amount of food my dear mom has put in my dabba and wind up.
What this means is that I end up half hungry half the time and everybody from my chahcha’s mom-in-law’s second cousin to my very own brother remarks at the un-chubbiness of my state of being.
What’s the solution?
Now they are two reasons to embark on operation chubbyface. The first is apparent from the above. The second is due to the realization after much research that female juntha has this annoying habit of choosing chubby jokes over skinny blokes.
Here’s the details.
Its pretty simple actually. All I have to do is use the panacea that my Ajji (granny) keeps recommending; which is EAT EAT and EAT!
So I plan to eat my fill at every alternate hour and stuff apples and juices and chocolates and bondas and pani puri and ….. into my apparently lean tummy. So what if I am hungry half an hour after lunch? The next snack break is just half an hour away,,,,
Can I hear somebody laughing all the way to the bank??
Phalo phoolo café wale bhai sahab!
* What's alphenlibeying?? You better ask Aragorn