The other day I discovered that I've become so fat that my t-shirts have automatically turned into crop tops. Crop tops are excellent garments to wear in Mumbai's soul-destroying heat except no one wants to see a male navel that resembles an untrimmed golf hole. Two options lay before me. The first was to join a gym, lose weight and become fit like everyone else in the greater Bandra region. The second was burying my weight-induced guilt under a gigantic cold coffee. Would I like some whipped cream and chocolate sauce with that? Why yes, thank you!
The problem is that I am now surrounded by friends who have all woken up to the concept of "health". In your mid 20s you can eat what you want, when you want and drink till you puke in atleast three people's houses like animals marking their territory. No one cares because you can pass it off with political speech type words like "jawaani" and "yuva josh". Around the 30-year-old mark where I am now, the mild paunch suddenly starts changes from a sign of Punjabi prosperity to a heart attack predictor and at its worst, sexual relationship killer. My formerly cavalier friends now walk around the city carrying pathetic little transparent Tupperware boxes full of boiled chicken and boiled asparagus because "their gym trainer said so".
There is an epidemic of young people joining gyms that will not shut up about how they've joined a gym and how all their exercises are "amazing". Despite my best efforts, I have lost my friends to this disease as well because every conversation with them in the room somehow turns to their training regimen.
Friend: Bro, what's your weight?
Friend: That's it? I can bench press you with my arms man
Me: Okay cool
Friend: Anyway like I was saying, you should really work on your chest man. Look at mine…
The friend will the proceed to disgustingly flapping his chest like a butterfly while you stare in horror at how his IQ is dropping in front of your very eyes. How can one possibly join a gym after seeing this happen to his friends? It's as if having to buy a whole new gym wardrobe to fit in and having to lie down on equipment lathered in other people's sweat wasn't bad enough.
My humble request to every young person out there is, don't join a gym. Everyone hates the guy who won't shut up about their exercises and what's the point of living if you want to spend your life eating boiled junk? Bury your guilt under the goodness of carbohydrates and fat. If you have any recommendations for sensitive electric shavers I can use around the navel, let me know.