The F-Word

Creative Writing Competition 2012 India
CODE	497
SETTING	Terrace OR Bedroom OR Living Hall
OBJECT	Book
THEME	And He/She Changed Forever

“Daddy, are you pregnant?” Nayna asked innocently, curled up on the bed beside Mahesh, his dad, with her hand over his protruding belly.

“What?” Mahesh snapped, shocked, yet amused. She’s only five! Who the hell tells them such things? He asked himself.

“Your tummy is big..” she said, stretching her arms, wide, emphasizing, showing how big she meant.

“I know darling, I know.” He answered sadly.

“Why are you fat? Are you pregnant?” She asked again, her voice unoffending, her curious eyes burning into his.

“My tummy is big because….” he trailed off, thinking hard what to say “-because God made me so.”

“Oh okay.” She said, satisfied with his explanation.

“Now go to sleep.” He breathed a sigh of relief. But somewhere in his heart the ‘I wish I were slim too’ was born.

For the next few days he tried to eat a little less and go for evening strolls. He was now conscious of his belly, aware of himself, and looked at himself every time he passed a mirror.

Two weeks, ten skipped meals, and 15 evening walks later, he had gained 3kgs instead of losing any. It was a consequence of something he did not understand.

Something is wrong. Why am I not losing weight?

He asked himself, but his soul, fat as himself, shrugged shoulders, leaving him all alone, fat as a mouse in a cheese-factory. He started getting fatter and people around him started reminding him of it. One day he was off for an evening walk when a football came rolling down and stopped at his feet.

“Fat uncle, fat uncle, please kick the ball over here.” A kid in a sweaty t-shirt was shouting.

FAT… FAT… The word haunted him everywhere. Everywhere. The F-word plagued him, terrorized him, terrified him. His family knew something was up, and one day, after everyone was asleep and he was awake, sitting depressed in the bedroom, Priya, his wife, brought up the topic.

“What happened darling? You seem upset these days. You okay?” She asked, worried for him.

“I’m heavyset, and-” He started to explain.

“You mean fat.” She interrupted.

“Don’t you dare use the f-word in front of me! I’m not f-.. f-” he shouted angrily, burning with self loathing, as he stammered.

“Fat.” She completed the sentence.

“For god’s sake, can’t you use heavyset? Or Plump? Or Beefy? Fleshy?” he cried, frustrated.

Mahesh, whose English vocabulary was as bad as his cooking, was throwing the thesaurus in her face. She knew it was serious, and that she had to do something.

“Look honey-” She started, but seeing his face, she said “Calm down first.”

She placed her hand on the back of his neck gently, calming him, soothing him. She saw the anger subsiding, slowly. Cautiously, she picked the glass of water from the bed-side table and made him drink it.

“You know, its nothing to be ashamed of. Its just the way you are. Accept yourself.” She explained calmly. “You are f-.. heavyset, but you’re beautiful. Just the way you are.”

“Yeah! Its easy for you to say!” he snapped, his voice sarcastic, his hand aiming at her slim-n-trim body.

“Yeah its easy for me to say” she answered back, her voice reasonable. “Just a sec-” she said and got off the bed.

She lowered herself on the bedroom floor, and sitting on her knees, she darted a hand under the bed. Pulling out a bag, she picked it up and placed it between them. Her long, elegant fingers expertly fished out a book, a diary of sorts’ from the bag and she sighed, relieved. She looked up to him wondering what she was about to do was right or not. Shaking her head, she decided.

She opened her diary and showed it to him. There were photographs of some over-weight girl with notes scribbled all around the pages. He bent his head and looked closer.

“Oh my god! Its you!” he said, astonished, shocked, amazes, dazzled, surprised, bewildered, as his eyes darted to the photo again and then back to his wife, slim-n-trim, a smile resting on her lips.

“I was fat once. Long time ago.” She said, gesturing with a flick of her hand that it was really a long time ago. “I used to click my photos every Sunday and check if I’d lost weight or not. I kept this diary with me at all times, reminding myself to lose some weight.”

He watched her, mesmerized. It must’ve been hard, he told himself. But she did it! And so will I!

“You see, it all about accepting yourself as you are. The first step towards solving a problem is to acknowledge that it exists. Running away won’t help.” She finished.

“So you’re saying I should click my photos and stop eating?” He mused.

“No. I’m saying that you’re beautiful just the way you are! Stop punishing yourself.” She let it all out. “And if you really wanna lose weight, there are a gazillion ways, but cursing yourself and worrying those who love you isn’t one of them.”

He bent his head and a kiss followed. A kiss neither short, nor unsatisfying. “I love you.” He said.

She lifted the hem of his T-shirt and kissed him on his bulging stomach. “I love you too. Just the way you are.” She said, meaning every word of it.

“You mean you like me heavyset?” he asked, amused.

“No. I like you fat.” She replied.

“The F-word.” He observed.

“Yes, the F-word.” She agreed with a smile.

Since that day, Mahesh was happy. Happier than he was over the month before. Priya’s revelation restored his faith in himself. He lost some weight – not much – but enough to be called plump (pleasantly fat) rather than obese (FAT). The F-word never haunted him since then.

__END__