Wifey, wake up, it’s six in the morning— exercise time! You promised to start from today…” he pulled my blanket away mercilessly on a cold, winter morning.

“Umm ... few more minutes, I slept very late ... working on ‘Shringara’..” I groaned.

“What... you and ‘shringara’ without me? he said huskily.

“Oh very funny, I was writing the editorial for a feature on ‘Shringara. You know I am serious about my work and good at it…”

“I know you are good…” he sounded mischievous … but in a second he changed his tone and said, “ok now, get up, get up, EXERCISE…!”

All this began when he bought a treadmill on impulse, falling more for the salesgirl than for the gadget, but had been quite steadfast in his resolve to work out. However since a few days, he has been after me…

Though he was used to a fat wife, he suddenly became conscious of the fat, I mean fact, and started luring me with unusable gifts like tight jeans and T-shirts which wouldn’t have fit me even if I had to succeed in turning the clock back 25 years, when as a 20-year-old, I was no different. I was a ‘plump and pampered’ girl in his eyes then.

“We change for those we love”— he said emphatically. When I raised my eyebrow, he said, “I know you love me, so you will have to change for me from being ‘fat to fit’ not for any other reason, but health, only for health...” he doesn’t know that I have caught him eyeing slim ladies in deep adoration!

“Play your cards carefully”… warned my lazy bones. An idea flashed in a jiffy. “OK I will do the physical exercise everyday, but you must do mental exercise while I pant and gasp on the treadmill… you write poetry!”

“We shall workout together to stay together.” Hearing that, the triumphant smile vanished and he started gasping even before his workout.

“What a cruel wife you are to ask that, knowing fully well that I don’t know the difference between poetry and pottery,” he sounded exasperated.

“… but I do remember the romantic verse you sent me after our engagement.”

“But then you must remember that I pleaded guilty of translating a Kannada movie song…” I was enjoying the desperation in his voice.

“Translation too is creative work ... if not poetry, write stories … “there is a writer in everyone of us, because there is a story in everyone of us,” I said thrusting a pen and paper into his hands… “Change is probably the biggest challenge we all face... but we change for those we love… I know you love me... so change from being an ‘ordinary’ man to a ‘writer’, I smiled coldly.

Seeing his aghast expression, I almost made up my mind to start exercising ... at that precise moment I saw him start writing.

My heart started pounding. What if he succeeds in turning into a writer overnight? I may have to start working out as promised... Oh God!

My panic turned to pleasure when I saw what he wrote on the paper..

“Fat is fabulous”!