Pity is very much the last fucking thing I ask for. Ever.

Of food and losing weight

There was once a time when I weighed around 110 kgs. Until two weeks ago I weighed 74 kgs. Everyone kept asking me how I could lose almost 40 Kgs in about two years. And I kept saying that its all due to my exercise regime which consisted of running around 2 miles, 3 to 4 days a week(the "mile" also helped flaunt my American connection, though it doesn't help much :-( ). Another reason that I didn't mention was the food. Not that I ate less or skipped meals or ate less healthy food. But notably for the last three years I have been mostly living away from home. Not that I am complaining. Everyone needs to stay away from home at least for a year or so. It enriches your experiences, helps you become truly independent and most importantly of all, allows you to booze as much as you want. For teetotallers it allows you to smoke as much as you want. For teetotallers and non smokers, God Help You! That apart, I was talking about staying away from home. Now, the single most important thing about it is you don't get food cooked by your mom. Which sucks. Bigtime. My mom cooks excellent food. I am sure that everyone else's mom also does. But the taste is quite immaterial in our present discussion. Its the very fact that its home made concerns us. I have been home about two weeks. And I have already gained around 5 kgs and developed a cute little pot shaped belly. Now my old denims fit. But that also means I can't buy new ones. And this little observation about my gain in weight made me reallize that the most important factor behind losing weight is not being able to have home made food.
A lot of people around me have been trying to lose weight. If you are reading this, take my advice. Stay away from home for about an year and see the result. And I won't even charge you for the advice. The good hearted chap that I am :-)

P.S: I had wonderful biryani in a shabby place in Baruipur. Golbari reopened. My mother's recovered completely and is in a cooking spree. Looks like I will be my old self when I go back in another two months.

Homecoming.

10 months and 10 days. Exactly. And I was coming back home. Long flight. Bandhs. Long waits . Delayed trains. Then two faces peeking in from the window. And two more standing eagerly at the doorsteps of the old house. I don't ask for nothing else.

And then there's the city. Nothing's changed. Really. Except for some faces. And that's the way I like it.

I have come back to life :-)