Finding Inspiration

I have been struggling with writing anything worthwhile for some time now. My friends who have read my previous articles would probably recognise my frequent struggles with writer’s block. Like a superstitious batsman wearing his left sock before the right one, I sit on my old recliner to find inspiration. Too lazy to make coffee, I order myself one from Krispy Kreme. Being lazy on a lazyboy. Man, am I living up this Sunday or what? Yeah, this article is probably not going to be worth your time.

Playing John Mayer on shuffle, nostalgia envelops me and takes me back to my college days in the early 2010s. Sundays were about hanging out with friends at the mall, catching the occasional movie, and most definitely about gorging donuts from ‘Mad Over Donuts’. Almost always, I would pack four ‘McAloo Tikkis’ from McDonald’s for dinner. Crunching numbers in my head, I would save money throughout the week to allow myself the day-long indulgence of Sunday.

Carrying on myself the metaphorical burden of subjecting my family to the very real burden of expensive college tuition fees, I would cut corners to save every rupee I could. That would often mean eating the cheapest available food, Rajma Chawal, for lunch AND dinner. Repeatedly. For weeks. The appeal of that dish is so strong in the North Indian mind that I never got over it and it is still my go-to comfort food.

One unintended effect of this behaviour was my first weight-loss story: about fifteen kgs in eight months because I didn’t eat enough and walked all the time. Oh the folly of youth, I thought this would become my forever truth. If I walk enough, I’ll be fit. This author was in for a rude awakening when despite walking eight to ten thousand steps each day during his first role, the weight only increased. What changed? Access to money and the lack of guilt in spending it on food, I guess.

Being a firm non-believer in branded clothing and having primarily two passions in my mid-twenties- movies and, food, my consumption of the latter increased remarkably exponentially. Quite akin to my waistline. Wasn’t till I found another passion, boxing, that course correction began. I dropped twenty kgs in six-and-a-half months this time. Similar results, just massively different inspirations.

I should here, perhaps, accentuate the virtues of positive reinforcement and admonish my younger self for guilt-tripping himself but that would be foolish. I made the best possible decision I was capable of using the information and means available at that time. Eerily similar to what I am doing right now. Being on the recliner, with coffee on the side, music playing in the background, typing in ‘Signika’. Just this time, I took you along on a short trip of self-reflection to find my way to an old habit.