Column

Salaam Mumbai...

For the awe, curiosity and stolen glances that it attracts, the newly arrived Vibrogym at Pritish Nandy’s upscale Moksh gym atWarden Road might as well be an Unidentified Flying Object.

In the late afternoons and evenings it sits serenely shut in a sea of clamorous machines, holding its secrets close to its chest; but in the mornings, it becomes a hub of activity, an altar to which (mostly large) housewives bend and pray in devout perspiration.

Rumoured to be invented by Russian scientists (who else?) and used by cosmonauts, the Vibrogym is the brand name for a generic machine (another name it goes by is Power Plate) that purports to revolutionise the way we exercise.

By generating high speed mechanical stimuli in the form of vibrations that are transferred to the body which automatically adjusts by responding with a stretch reflex, ten minutes on the Vibrogym is said to have the effect of an hour of intense resistance training.

And- as is to be expected- Madonna, J Lo, Kylie Minogue and every other bootilicious babe on the planet is said to be mainlining on her Vibrogym.

A Google search elicits 434,000 pages on the Vibrogym, it has surfaced quite regularly on YouTube, and it seems to be the subject of ample blogspace, but the sole housewife I interview fresh off her Vibrogym session, looking expectedly quite shaky on her pins, only manages to say “It makes me feel good. But I’m still doing cardio, weights, and yoga on my own time.”

Mornings at Moksh, (and most other gyms across the city) brings in a fresh crop of eager beaver housewives, free from their dhobhi-lists, school lunch packing routines and gobhi buying expeditions. The afternoons catch the stragglers, that rare breed in Mumbai who don’t work; but it is in the evenings when Mumbai’s gym culture blooms to its full strength.

Testosterone driven executives from media companies pump iron with manic fervour, alongside hedge- fund mavens, flaunting blue chip sports brands on their backs, while girls who look like next season’s cover of Maxims’ nonchalantly bench press, in tandem with their spotty bfs doing dumb bell squats.

It is a bazaar of buffed bodies, a temple of narcissism, a souk of sweat.

Mumbai has been in the grip of a body -beautiful culture ever since Pradeep Guha and the Times of India launched their siege of international beauty pageants in the nineties.

Overnight an industry of dieticians, trainers, cosmeticians, hair and make up stylists and designers mushroomed to service the requirements of what was at one time an even better known export than IT.

Gymming became the new mantra, and every colony boasted a gym, every home had at least one fitness machine, and all of middle class Mumbai was acquainted with at least one gym instructor, as ubiquitous now as the friendly neighbourhood smuggler had once been.

In this scenario it came as no surprise that Rajya Sabha member, editor, poet, publisher, film producer and workaholic Pritish launched Moksh, to service the needs of a delicious slice of South Mumbai’s fitness freaks.

So I ask Reena, Pritish’s author wife, if the great man himself uses Moksh. “No he just doesn’t find the time” she replies. “We’ve even got a treadmill at home- but he hasn’t used it for more than ten minutes.” Vibrogym to the rescue!

s_malavika@dnaindia.net