The Diary Of A Fat Kid

Just as I am about to win the model hunt competition after impressing the judges with my desirable six pack abs, my alarm draws me out of my fantasy. The stupid clock just can’t handle me being extra affectionate to my bed. A sadist that it is, even after sending it off to snooze a countless number of times, it interferes with my peace until sleep abandons me out of irritation. The entire process takes around forty minutes, sometimes an hour. As I fall out of my bed I clamber to my bathroom for my morning chores. I need to be in the gym within the next twenty minutes lest my instructor makes me work out for twenty extra minutes.

While I walk to the gym, I can’t help but wonder how I got stuck in this “mileu”. I pray to God so much, and literally vouch for Him in front of all my atheist pals. He has power of doing the unbelievable, then why doesn’t he take away all this flab one night when I go to bed, so that the next day I am born as a new Tom Cruise. He just seems to ignore this part of my prayer every time, but hey I do not complain-He seems to respond to the rest. Anyway, did I mention the amazingly beautiful gym trainer,Laura, I was lucky to be assigned? The entire pretext of me being available at this man vs machine place I am going to is her. I just need to lose 30 kilos, after which I think I might have a chance on her. And trust me, losing 30 kilos is not a tough job, it’s just that I am feeling lazy today. I shall give in my 100% from tomorrow; today let’s hope she gets convinced that my back really hurts from yesterday.

After a sweltering twenty minutes on the tread mill, I am back at home getting ready for college. After trying on a gazillion shirts, I decide on one and somehow tuck my stomach into my trousers. Mom, the sweet lovely mother that she is, has made me a bunch of pancakes for breakfast, very generously coating them with layers of butter. She just doesn’t conform to the rules my instructor had laid down for me, and calls them stupid. In her opinion, every child in this world should eat his share of dairy products till twenty-five, else how would he grow strong? Hey, I am no one to complain, after all her dishes are more than yum…

The moment I enter my college gate, I feel no less than Barack Obama. All eyes are on me, and people are intimidated by my appearance to such an extent that they are not able to speak a word to me. All they manage to do is mumble into each other’s ears goodness-knows-what. It feels good to be the centre of attraction. Once or twice I might have heard somebody laugh behind my back- but with great men come haters, so I blatantly ignore.

Once I have balanced my weight on one of the wimpish chairs of the class, a series of trials for breaking world records ensues. Did you know that a pen launched from my tummy can fly as high as 6 feet into the air? I can balance 7 books on each hand, and try for more each day, thanks to the encouragement I receive from my friends and classmates. Nobody in my class has yet been able to handle the weight of both my hands for a continuous two minutes! I am just keeping my options open, you never know I might just end up in the Guiness Book some day. Laura asked me to keep moving my muscles throughout the day, so I make sure I move my toes and hands at regular intervals- I am taking small steps yes, but at least I am headed the way. I am smart enough and keep good grades, so my teachers do not bother me much.

Lunch is the most strenuous part of the entire day where I need to climb two floors up and down, as the elevators are usually crowded. Besides, people do not like coming into the elevator with me because they say they are afraid of heights. Such childish beings they are I tell you. None of the stalls can fill me up, but I need to eat something at least. Skipping meals and crash diets might make you thin in two weeks but I am more of a long-term-result-oriented-guy. I generally stick to one or two hot dogs or burgers. After college I munch in some fries on the way home. Generally an early bedder, my evening is usually filled with me enacting out versions of heavyweight Superman and Spiderman in the room.

I know everybody complains about being obese, but I will tell you a few advantages of being broader though. The other day I was waiting at the bus stand with my earphones plugged in, when a kid cycled into me by accident. Poor kid broke his arm, but I was miraculously left unscathed! I told you God loves me. Also you can easily get out of a physically strenuous activity by artificially huffing two or three times, after which you are automatically sent to rest. The only exception to it is Laura who rarely falls to my excuses. Such a strong independent woman.

The only problem is when I go the mall, I never find something of my size, because these discriminatory manufacturers only make clothes for the thin. I am studying law anyway, and shall make sure I file a PIL later when I am working in this interest. Like everybody can fit into a XXL? And besides, it has also made me realize that somebody who judges you by your outward appearance and clothes is really not worth the effort.

Sometimes I wonder, in let us say a probable alternate universe, where I was born thin, would I have the same privileges as I enjoy now? I mean sure, the only advantage is I would be better looking and get dates more often, but what about the way those good looking chaps cheat on each other? The mental and physical pressure of upholding the status of being the best looking guy around would be so much I would combust! And I would die if not be able to have my favourite cheese dripping pizzas. Maybe I would live a longer life, but handling 30 years extra of all the betrayal and deceipt increasing by the day in this world? Nah…not very alluring. Because, I am so addicted to this lazy life! I would rather be fat and go to the gym and get a glimpse of Laura, eat lots everyday and die happy early before old age cripples me, what do you think? Let me know.

About The Author

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.