A couple of hours ago Neha asked me the most difficult question: “Have I grown fat?” First I thought it was a rhetorical question because she has a huge mirror that reflects whatever it sees, but it turned out that she really wanted me to answer.
Some days ago she had asked me where was her younger brother’s PSP that she had last seen in my hands. It seriously was the most difficult question until I made a deal with her brother that if he could forget about his PSP, I could forget telling his sister how he gets stoned in his friend’s garage. He sobbed and swore and did many things but finally he concluded that the PSP was after all, not more important than keeping his marijuana consumption a secret. That saved me from answering the question back then.
This time however, I didn’t know how to tell her the truth. Although Neha isn’t like the Sphinx from some ancient Greek mythological tale who would bite off my head if I don’t answer her questions, she sure is lethal in her own manners. So very cautiously, I told her, “Err.. Yes, you seem to have grown fat, around the waist especially.”
That resulted in her 15-minute drama of feet-stamping and crying that I wasn’t interested in her anymore, then she accused me of being an insolent bastard because I didn’t know how to respect women and the whole thing concluded with, “You’re not a real man. Real men go for curves.”
So this is one thing I want to get straight – not just with Neha, but with all the fat girlfriends in the world – putting on some weight isn’t a crime and even if you’re wearing a jeans two sizes plus, it won’t deter your boyfriend from taking those off in the bedroom. Also, no one in the world withdraws their interest in their girlfriend just because she’s grown fat. Except Hugh Hefner – because he has got a lot of choices. On the other hand, the choice-less insolent bastards that comprise the rest of the world won’t even observe that you have put on weight unless you begin to scoff about it. So you see, it would be appreciated if you decide to hit the gym and burn, and even if you don’t, it won’t be such a problem (as long as your belly button manages to hide under your t-shirt. That’s the limit). But please spare us from playing the whole ‘oh-baby-you-don’t-look-fat-and-I-am-a-real-man-I-like-curves-anyway’ drama. That is irritating and even if your weight doesn’t repel us from you, this will. Plus, expecting to hear that you’re ‘not fat’, you’d be living in a fool’s paradise. Don’t. And on a enlightening note, real men go for what ever they like. Period.