Leading life, one frame at a time

My frame – physical, not mental – has always given me mixed feelings, due to reactions it has evoked from others since my childhood.

The earliest I can recollect is when my higher primary school teacher would call me to his side and threaten me in front of the whole class that he would slice off my plump cheeks and prepare ‘chop pieces’. He would pinch my cheeks and say that together they would make a boodu kumbalakai, which is Kannada for ‘ash gourd’. The children would, of course, laugh merrily, as the joke was on me, and that moniker had stuck for years, which I bitterly resented.

My cheeks were rather plump, and the kakas who sat in petty shops, where I had to go on errands at Mom’s behest, could not just resist the temptation to pinch them. But I was not fat; only my cheeks were.

Much later, when I was in Mysuru for holidays, my cousin Parameshwar took me out with his hostel mates for a long ride, and all of them hired a bicycle each, except me, since I had not yet learned cycling. One of them accepted me for a double ride, remarking that I was, anyway, thin and weak. But my cousin promptly told him that I had a good frame, which, when filled up, would look fine. I was pleasantly surprised and felt thankful.

Later on, the fitness fad caught up with me. I did yoga regularly and was still not satisfied; I went to our company’s gym as well. After some months a friend saw me and expressed surprise that my physique looked robust. I was elated.

My career took me to Pune, and there I went to a guruji five mornings a week and practised serious yoga. Sometime later I went to a doctor for medicals for a high-value insurance policy. He looked at me searchingly and asked me to strip to the waist.

While his assistant was taking my measurements, the doctor asked me: “How did you develop this physique?” I told him about my guruji and yoga, and he told me it was unbelievable, shaking his head. Well, I, on the other hand, felt very proud. I had finally arrived!

And much, much later, that is, last year, when I turned 74, I suffered a heart condition and went into the ICU. Released after two days, only to get a pacemaker implanted.

Well, within a matter of 15 days, I had lost seven kilos. My surgeon had noted on my case sheet: a male, 74-year-old, moderately built and nourished! I grinned wryly. What a journey it has been, from being boodu kumbalakai to thin and weak to a robust and impressive physique back to moderately built!

(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH).