The Thin Woman- On size zero and being Adipose Enriched!

“Kareena’s Secret” splashed the front page of a well known woman’s magazine a few months ago.  The article went on to say how she had achieved her size- zero etc etc. And the next issue had readers saying thanks for the secrets!! Grrrrrrr what are/were they thinking.

You must have often bumped into her: the lone woman, with a perennially hungry look in her eyes, parenthesis of dissatisfaction around her mouth and an orange-ish hue to her fingers tips [from too many glasses of carrot juice?]. The lines of her body would make a Ferrari feel frumpish. Her silhouette is as perfect as a wash board’s; any which side you look at it. Her elbows are weapons and her rib cage will have you remember that the original eve was fashioned from a bone.

This is the woman, scribes [usually thin women themselves?] celebrate. The thin woman. The woman who has learnt to say no. The woman with the figure to carry clothes. Never mind that you and I will never cease to ask: what figure? The woman who has the world by its scrotum and will not relinquish her hold on it because what she wants, she gets.

Magazines all over the world devote many pages and much gloss to her. Achievers, they will tell you have a thin shadow. For the thin woman is very often a successful woman. From Celine Dion to Princess Di, From Claudia Schiffer to our own Kareena Kapoor, the thin woman is built with a core of steel. She is tenacious. She is purposeful. She has an incredible will power. For how else would she survive those days when nothing but comfort eating can help, work out regularly and keep her wayward taste buds leashed?

For some time now, I have endured with gritted teeth this celebration of the thin woman: Not because I’m fat. Simply because there is nothing more annoying than being lumped into a huge and broad category called fat. There is us, the adipose enriched. Supposedly cringing in the fringes. And there is them – the god’s own chosen walking tall. For they are the thin brigade and their banners read: The thin woman is a sophisticated woman. The thin woman has chic. Thin is beautiful. Thin is the way to be.

Again and again, I have stumbled across the phrase – If she was fat and ugly… and I would want to stretch across time and kilometres and grab the writer and the sub-ed who let it pass by their shoulders and yell: Ladies, Ladies, being fat doesn’t preclude being ugly. Being fat doesn’t mean being unhappy. Being fat doesn’t mean being consumed by envy for the thin woman.

The time has co me for some straight talk. From the gut, padded with a slight swell of flesh but nevertheless…

First, there is the question of why be thin? Why persevere so hard to resemble the androgynous stick insect?

Do men demand of women that they be thin? Ask just about any man [age, colour, education, income group no bar] about his fantasy woman and he’ll shape an hourglass in the air rather than draw parallel lines. So why do women inflict thinness upon themselves?ANd mind you, HOUR GLASS figure does not mean THIN!It means curvy with enough ADIPOSE TISSUE!

So what’s wrong with a few extra inches? We may never be able to wear a clinging sheath dress or a cropped top. Our collarbones will never see the sun rise again.. All we ask is if we tread the middle path of adipose, let us be. Shaped like a woman. Feeling like a woman. Satisfied with the way we look and the way we are. For heaven’s sake, don’t tell us how we ought to feel like.

For if one is to go by perceptions, there can’t be a more dissatisfied creature than a thin woman. She has neither the comfort of sublimating angst by tucking into a plate of French fries followed by a cream pastry nor does she have a man who she can trust will be with her through thick and thin, She lives haunted by the eternal fear ‘what if one day fat decides to make its home with me?’ LOL, yes I am laughing loudly! I pity the girls who live everyday smiling and walking tall to the world outside but burning with jealousy(for not being able to eat what they want) and insecurity(coz if they put on a lil weight, fear that their muscled,macho boyfriends might leave them).

So in spite of her flat abdomen and not even the shadow of a double chin, her thinness is ‘in’ and her enviable chic, the thin woman is always on the prowl. Where have all the men gone is her constant refrain that hits a hysterical high every now and then.

So is this a tirade against thin? Not really. For there is thin and there is thin. What they don’t tell you is that thinness begets age. {Even if the body belies it, thin women when dressed in clothes that would suit a teenager better, simply end up looking like mutton dressed as lamb] And worse, thinness begets loneliness…

In his twenties, a man will try anything. From trying to finish a bottle of whisky in one sitting to bungee jumping to swimming with the sharks to dating a thin woman. In fact, he even likes the thought of having a thin woman hanging on his arm. It gives out all the right signals. Me man. Me dating a vee-jay lookalike babe. Me and success hand in hand. Me cool.

But when it comes to marrying a girl, even the most coolest guy around town will seldom behave any different from an average goatherd. In bed and life, he wants substance. He wants something to hold on to; to cling and nestle against. If the toss up is between a cushion and a coat hanger, he will settle for the rounded contours rather than the straight and the narrow…

Besides he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life submitting to an iron will. A thin woman won’t let him snack. A thin woman will frown on his beer guzzling [there is nothing more offending than a beer belly in a thin woman’s eye] A thin woman will insist he works out when he’d rather nap. A thin woman will want him to take the dog for a walk while he’d rather sprawl on the couch and play touch and go with the remote control. A thin woman will want to know why he can’t do what she can – live on low fat low salt eats and stride ahead with a determined purpose. What man wants that? Even if he’s hippest coolest dude this side of the Arabian Sea.

A thin woman is good for a good time. But when it comes to settling down, ask a man and he will point out the girl with a bosom and fecund hips. In almost every culture, there is an axiom, prospective grooms swear by. Something to do with a woman being a real woman only when she has hair and boobs.

As the poet said: ripeness is all!

CUSTODY

Child custody is a legal term  used in Divorce Proceedings to describe the legal and practical relationship between a parent and his or her child, such as the right of the parent to make decisions for the child, and the parent’s duty to care for the child.

“Children from divorced families don’t follow the same rules as regular children — they grow up much faster and have seen insecurity and strife too early in life. You can’t apply the same parameters to them as you can to your own children, who are safe and warm and cherished.”

This is something my divorced friend used to say. She used to say this with quiet sadness and a heavy hearted conviction.

No one knows this better than either a parent who, as an aftermath of separation or divorce, finally takes a look at her children and is shattered to see what the acrimony and dispute has done to them or than Manju Kapur. Divorce is a sad business but saddest for the children of the family who are rent by conflicting loyalties as they see all that is dear and familiar being snatched away and distorted for no fault of theirs.

Manju is a past master in dealing with the concerns of families. Custody is her fifth book after her bestselling books, Difficult Daughters, Home, The Immigrant and A Married Woman.

The tone of Custody is a serious, yet soft. Manju is not judgmental, though you see her getting grim at places, as if she’s biting back her comments behind pursed lips. Though she talks of grand passions, betrayals, heartbreak, extra marital affairs, she remains quiet and tries to be a chronicler rather than a participant in the story that she tells.

Custody is the story of the family of Raman and Shagun and their two children, eight year old Arjun and three year old Roohi. Raman works for a multi-national company, the Brand, that manufactures and distributes soft drinks. The rewards are huge as is the work that is expected. Raman, who belongs to a middle class family, is a bright guy but somewhat dull. He is married to Shagun, who is wondrously beautiful but bored and rather selfish. Still, all is well with the family, until Ashok Khanna, comes in as Raman’s boss at the Brand. Ashok is the human manifestation of the Brand. What he wants, he gets, and if there are obstacles on the way, he simply sweeps them aside or buy them out. This time he wants Shagun, and he gets her.

Shagun, not considering anything but her passion for Ashok, is ready to call off the marriage and asks Raman for a divorce, and that’s when the staid, loving Raman turns into a vengeful person who will do anything to avenge being left for another man.

On the other hand, is Ishita, a young divorcee, who has been heartlessly thrown out of her husband’s home because she is physically incapable of having children. Ishita tries to find some sense of identity in social work with poor children. She and the divorced Raman come together. Now occurs the re-formation of couples. Ishita and Raman; Shagun and Ashok. All settled but for the children, who are pulled apart in ways that are as insidious as they are aggressive.

The first half of the book is devoted to the grown ups and the re-configuration of the couples, the latter part focuses on the ugly custody battle for the children. The little ones have to deal with parents who have changed priorities, changed partners, changed characters even. From being the loved kids of a family, they are changed into pawns on the chessboard of the judicial system, the players of the game being none other than their parents.

Luckily, Manju does not take on a moralising tone, although she is a bit wry in the telling of her tale sometimes. Her forte is middle class Indians and though she is ruthlessly honest, she knows how to tell their story gently. You are left feeling bruised at the way courts treat divorces and custody matters — the man who will not grant a divorce because his ego has been hurt and the woman who is given preference in custody battles by virtue of her gender. You just end up hoping that if (God forbid) you or your loved ones ever have to go through it, it would be a much revamped system!

Manju brings forth the angst that the system engenders when lawyers step in and courts take over. The joy is over and bitterness prevails. The most battered are the children!

The reason that I got captivated was not because I wanted to know the divorce fats and figures inIndiabut because I as a girl could relate to the daughter(Roohi.) Its not long ago that I have faced similar situations (nope my parents are not divorced and it really need not be  like that always). I grew up in a motherless household along with my father, brother and for a while my grandmother (mother’s mother). Obviously it was unlike normal families but my dad made sure he was with me and never made me miss my mother.  So I was a schoolgoing girl and was hardly ever at home: tutions,practices,games etc.

My brother was and has always been closer to my mother’s side than me, dad or anyone else.I have heard that its very hard for children to choose sides,but my brother always choose mom over my dad.  People say my mom had to be blamed. Now, 20 years later I know she was wrong and that my mother had committed a mistake.My grandmom who was not so fond of my dad took advantage of the fact that my dad was working and no one was at home and convinced my super intelligent brother that dad was not a nice man. She gave examples of neighbours and relatives who always used to be around etc. She even told my brother things my mother used to say about dad. I now know how unrealistic my mother’s expectation used to be.  So well, my brother grew up convincong himself that my dad was not nice! I sometimes wonder if he ever used his own brains to understand my dad. Nope!! He never did and still does not.

In the story Arjun ( the son) tries to convince Roohi to go with their mother saying dad is a very bad man etc but she, who is jst 4 years old understands the truth and the reality and who is to blame. She is scared of Arjun but does not let it affect her relation with her dad. Thats what caught me. I have been through the same thing. My brother and my mother’s relatives tried to convince me to go with them just after my mother died. They said he would eventually get married to someone and that they wont look after me etc. I remember looking at my dad who sat silent through all these dialogues and going up and asking him whether any of what they were saying was true and him looking at me and saying I was free to decide whatever I wanted. I looked up at my relatives and said I was never going to leave my dad.

My brother and dad are still very aloof with each other. They come together for the sake of it etc. My dad took care of me for 20 years after my mother died. He still does. He never married again and made sure I was No 1 in his life. We are the best of friends and will always remain that way.

Its very very easy to change children. But sometimes children can see what adults fail to see and understand. I know its true. I just know it.