I know I said..

I know I said I wouldn’t write about this again…but I looked at the weighing scale today and noticed I had lost 1 kilo. Yayy! I know it’s practically nothing in comparison to all the weight I need to lose, but I am elated! So much so that when I saw my weight I turned around to my trainer who was busy talking to someone else, waited patiently while grinning like a fool and then told him about it once he was done. We did a victory high five 😀


In the middle of all this I realised I have developed a really weird habit. Every time I start pushing myself to keep going, I realise what I am doing and start tearing up! It is soooo embarrassing! I don’t even know why this is happening, sheesh!

Anyways, that’s all from me for today!

Cheers 🙂

The tipping scale

Note: This is nothing but a long long rant.


I have struggled with my weight pretty much all my life. And this is not like a skinny girl’s struggle for a thigh gap, but more about a big girl struggling with obesity. I don’t ever remember a time I have felt good about my body. Yes, I have lost many kilos along the away but seeing as nothing was ever good enough for people around me, my happiness was always short lived. And then I would just put back on the weight again. And it has been going on and on in cycles all my life.

Over the years I have blamed many things for me being this way. The emotional eating, low self esteem, the people around me. There were many stages in life when people have said now you will finally lose weight, this when I had braces, when I moved to India and stayed in a hostel. Of course nothing happened. I have tried my hand at all sorts of fitness activities, swimming, cycling, gyming, I was never able to stick on to anything.

Few years back I reached the heaviest weight I remember being. I joined yet another gym. Lucky for me, I had an amazing trainer who made me work my butt off. I also met the in-house dietician who recommended a high protein diet and in a matter of months I lost weight like nobodys business. I was nearing almost 15kg weight loss when we shifted houses and I could no longer go to that gym because it was too damn far. 

I joined a gym closer to the new place and I hated it. I quit in a month or so and did absolutely nothing after that. I was going through a very low phase on the personal front too around the same time. And within a span of around 2 years, I put back on all that weight. I let myself get to that point. I had zero motivation or drive and made every possible excuse to do nothing.

I got back to hating what I saw in the mirror. To having to constantly having to hear people say everything possible to make me feel even worse about it. 

I started going to the same gym I hated. Things had changed. I thought this would be it. I would finally get my head around it and focus and do this. And then with the new job, travel, 2 weddings this year, I kept taking breaks and the trainers’ kept losing interest in trying to help me. I don’t blame them. It only makes sense for them to focus on someone who is really into this and not a lost cause like me. I hated going to the gym again.

But more than one reason have come up off late which made me have to rethink this. I knew I need to lose weight and urgently and still couldn’t get myself to do anything. As a last attempt to motivate myself I started using the Google Fit app to track my steps each day. Starting 1st August, I tried to be as active as possible in during office hours. Taking a lot of break to walk across the floor, going up to people to talk to them instead of leaving them a message on the communicator, taking the stairs and looking at the record at the end if the day, I felt good. I set a 10,000 step goal and I manage to make around 8k on an average a week.

But I knew this would be enough. So somewhere mid month I joined another gym.it wasn’t a regular gym, it had no cardio equipments, and because if this itself I was uncertain but I decided to join anyway. If nothing else, it would be a change for me. I went for two days and on the third day I had come down with a bad cold and by the 4th day my monthly cycles started (I feel like an old person for using that phrase). And I hate going to the gym when that happens. Most people call that just an excuse to not exercise. Maybe it is, I dont know, but I did manage to lose close to 15kgs at one point inspite of taking almost a week’s break every month. So it can’t be that bad I guess.

5 days later laziness had kicked in and I was sitting on my bed, sulking and cribbing about how I am never going to lose weight and that I am always going to be this away. But in the middle of that cribbing, something changed in my mind (or was it just mom yelling at me) I got dressed and left anyway. And I got in a good workout. 

Today was day two if my return. I was out in the evening until late and once I got home I was two minded about going to the gym. But I went anyway. Half way through my workout, something happened. I had to drop what I was doing and sit down. I was unable to breath, I could feel a knot in my chest, I thought I was going to throw up, i could feel my face turn red. I sat down and tried to focus in breathing. I could feel my eyes well up, and felt the tears roll down. Luckily for me not many people were around because it was late. My trainer was doing something else and finally noticed me and came running over with my bottle of water. All he could see was that I was crying, he tried to calm me down. I was beyond embarrassed, and mumbled something about not being able to breathe. I don’t honestly know what happened.

It took me a while to compose myself. I got up walked a few steps and I could again feel my chest just knot up. I sat down again. He opened up the windows, asked if I wanted to lie down. I said I was fine. Some people walked in by then and he had to go away. I was happy about the distraction. I tried to breathe. Just focus on breathing. I kept thinking about a 100 negative things and I could feel my eyes well up again. Breathe. Focus. I thought at that point that it would be better to leave. Stood up, paced around for a bit. Breathe. Focus. I was ready to walk over to him and tell him I’m going to leave. Breathe. Focus. But then I decided not to. I don’t know why. But I didn’t. Took one more breath and walked over to where I was working out and picked up from where I had left things. I continued to work our for another 20 odd minutes and then I left.

Today was day two. Day two of probably nothing looking at post experiences. But it felt good to push myself. I can’t remember the last time I pushed myself without some external motivation. And it felt good.

This is in no way a subject I wanted to post about or may ever post about in the future. But today, I just needed to get it off my chest.

I feel better now.

The dreaded ‘D’ word


While I was in Germany, I had the worst toothache. I am not one with perfect teeth, but I had never had a toothache like this. My face was swollen on one side for two days. Luckily, someone who was traveling with me had some medicine that worked and I was fine until I got back. But I knew I had to go get it checked.

I detest doctors in general and dentists even more so. After spending a few days convincing myself that I really need to do this, I finally made it to the dentist. One look at my teeth, and she knew what was wrong. It was my wisdom tooth and she suggested I get it extracted as soon as possible. And then told me I’ll have to get all four removed. One of it was growing horizontally. Sighh. So an appointment was made and I headed home.

I was terrified, especially one day prior to my appointment. I woke up early that morning, had some chow-chow bath and headed to the dentist’s. I was shitting bricks by then.

The dentist was a sweet young lady. She helped me calm down considerably. Explained everything to me in detail. And we got down to business. She sprayed something in the area in my mouth that had to be worked on, to numb it, before injecting the local anaesthetic. We waited for it to work. And in the mean time I had this strong urge to swallow all the saliva that had accumulated. She said that may not be a good idea. And before she could explain why I swallowed and the next thing I knew I could feel my throat going numb. And then I panicked and started feeling like I couldn’t breathe. The dentist was amused, but calmed me down again. I was trying to take deep breaths, felt like I was almost having a panic attack but I was fine in a bit.

Once the anaesthetic was doing its job, everything was mostly a breeze. Got two wisdom teeth extracted one after the other. Got stitches in one. After giving me step by step instructions on how to care of it over the next few days, I left from there, excited about eating truck loads of ice cream  the next few days.

It was only once the anaesthetic wore off that I realised how bad it hurt. I was on very strong painkillers for the first few days. It took me more than a week to completely recuperate from this.

When I went to get the stitches removed I was asked when I would like to get the other two removed. I told them I would get back to them. Sighh. I’m dreading the prospect of having to go through this again. But I still have to.


Whenever I go to a dentist I am reminded of my school days and this particular poem by Ogden Nash. It explains the whole experience in the best possible way…

One thing I like less than most things is sitting in a dentist chair with my mouth wide open.
And that I will never have to do it again is a hope that I am against hope hopen.

Because some tortures are physical and some are mental,
But the one that is both is dental.
It is hard to be self-possessed
With your jaw digging into your chest.

So hard to retain your calm
When your fingernails are making serious alterations in your life line or love line or some other important line in your palm;

So hard to give your usual effect of cheery benignity
When you know your position is one of the two or three in life most lacking in dignity.

And your mouth is like a section of road that is being worked on.
And it is all cluttered up with stone crushers and concrete mixers and drills and steam rollers and there isn’t a nerve in your head that you aren’t being irked on.

Oh, some people are unfortunate enough to be strung up by thumbs.
And others have things done to their gums,
And your teeth are supposed to be being polished,
But you have reason to believe they are being demolished.

And the circumstance that adds most to your terror
Is that it’s all done with a mirror,
Because the dentist may be a bear, or as the Romans used to say, only they were referring to a feminine bear when they said it, an ursa,
But all the same how can you be sure when he takes his crowbar in one hand and mirror in the other he won’t get mixed up, the way you do when you try to tie a bow tie with the aid of a mirror, and forget that left is right and vice versa?

And then at last he says That will be all; but it isn’t because he then coats your mouth from cellar to roof
With something that I suspect is generally used to put a shine on a horse’s hoof.

And you totter to your feet and think. Well it’s all over now and after all it was only this once.
And he says come back in three monce.

And this, O Fate, is I think the most vicious circle that thou ever sentest, That Man has to go continually to the dentist to keep his teeth in good condition
when the chief reason he wants his teeth in good condition
is so that he won’t have to go to the dentist.


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Somewhere in 2012..

Somewhere in 2012…during a family trip, we visited Germany. We probably just spent a little over a day there, but that place, just stayed with me. I had such an immense feeling to go back, which was odd, because I have felt that way about no other place, not even the place I call home. Once I was back from this vacation, I started learning conversational German, aggressively looked for jobs in that place; my family thought it was just a phase, and it probably was, but there was just something that made me long for that place. Needless to say, a few months in, I realized not much was going to happen, I left the German course half way, hoped that someday someone from Germany would notice my resume because in every portal I made sure I mentioned Germany as one of the preferred locations, but nothing happened. Only thing that remained was a cover photo that I had posted on Facebook that reminded me of that phase…

2014 came along and I went for an interview in a German company here in India. Everything was looking good, and I really thought I had really bagged this one. But then, I never heard back from them. I was really upset. I had received a lot of positive feedback from the panel. But nothing came out of it. And I sulked for a long time over that…

Then, in the fag end of 2015, I got a call from the same company, for a new position, based on a recommendation from one of the members of the panel I was interviewed by earlier. Cleared one round after another, and after the last, I was asked to wait for their final feedback. One day passed by, and then another. They had said that if I don’t hear from them within a certain number of days, that would mean that the outcome was negative. That day arrived, and I hadn’t heard from them yet. In all other cases, when this has happened, I have not bothered, knowing very well that trying to contact them to find out what had happened is pointless, but this time around I just couldn’t help myself. I picked up my phone, dialed the number, and waited, the phone ringing away, and then it is was finally answered. I ask if he had heard from the panel. He seemed surprised, and goes on to say, that they had sent the offer two days back and was wondering why they hadn’t heard from me!


Hahah… I was beyond elated, and I had the perfect person with me to celebrate this moment!!!

I started with that job this year, and it has been an interesting ride so far. Oh and it also involved travelling to Germany within my first month there! *cue happy dance*




Hahah..That was old and bad, I know! Apologies!

Well, hello there! I haven’t been around in such a long time, I’ve missed this place. Sort of. No, I have. Really.

There have been more than a few occasions where I have thought, I need to blog about what was happening, but life just got in the way, I guess!

Between meeting my baby nephew (my cutiee patootie) for the first time, my cousin’s wedding, having way too many relatives visiting us over a period of a month, switching jobs and travelling, I have been a bit busy.

But I am back now and hoping to write about all these and more.

Until then.. I’ll leave you guys with this song…One of my favourites by Moby. Enjoy 🙂

To new beginnings…



The fact that I am actually writing a post one after the other after a very very long time goes to show how excited and happy I am to finally step into year 2016.

There are quite a few things I am looking forward to this year – from my cousins wedding, a new job, taking baby steps towards a new phase of my life, finally hitting the big 30, and these are the things I know of at this point; there will be so many new things and experiences  I have no clue about yet.

It suddenly feels like the whole world is my oyster and I can do whatever I want.

Well, sort of 😛


Happy 2016, everyone! 😀

The year that was : 2015

The last few days of the year always ends up being a time for some retrospection. You look back at the year that has gone by and realise what a journey it has been.

Blogging is one thing that has sort of helped me a great deal this past few years and reading back reminds me of how I was feeling and what I was going through at that point of time. And I know I have come a long way…

2015 has been quite a ride, with a fair share of ups and downs. But I am glad it is ending on a positive note.

I am excited about 2016…I know it is filled with a few uncertainties…but I look forward to facing them.. 🙂


With that note…I wish you all a Happy New Year!

May 2016 be everything you’ve wished for and more 🙂



Hunter #songinmyhead

Continuing the tradition from my earlier blog, I will be posting about the songs that I find myself randomly humming/singing under the tag #songinmyhead

This morning while walking up the stairs to my gym I found myself humming, and eventually singing these few lines…

If you were a king up there on your throne
would you be wise enough to let me go
for this queen you think you own
Wants to be a hunter again
wants to see the world alone again
to take a chance on life again
so let me go..

I think the last time I heard that song was in college, during the early 2000s. I can’t for the life of me figure out how that song crept in my head out of no where.

Those lines are from the song Hunter by Dido..

I was introduced to Dido during my school days by Mr. Marshall Mathers a.k.a Eminem and one of the few songs I like of him called Stan. Do check out this track as well..

With this, I conclude my lazy post 😀




Home is where the heart is…

or was it..

Home is where mom/loved one is…

Different people have different definitions of what Home is to them, as have I.

For a good part of my life, home was in Oman, where I grew up, where I went to school, had the best years of my life. It is a beauty, this place. I miss the mountains and beaches, now that I am no longer living there.


Once we moved here for good, around 4 years back, the switch was easy, I had been and lived here before, spent a good 5 years completing my education here and have a small bunch of close friends to keep me company. I may have packed up all my things, and physically moved from Oman, but I left a piece of my heart there.

To this date, I read up, check up, and keep myself up to date on all that is happening there. I talk about my life and the people there as my own. When I am asked where I am from, I always pause before answering. This, because I am always left thinking, should I go all in and explain how, I grew up in one country, am now settled in one state of India, but I am actually from another state all together, or just take the easy route and tell them about my place of birth, avoiding any further questions or discussions. I decided on what to say, depending on how much i like/care about the person I am having this conversation with.


Oman celebrates its 45th National Day today.


I always end up putting up photos/posts related to this everywhere in all social media platforms I am active on. I have had quite a few people roll their eyes seeing me do this, not understanding my love for that country. I used to love the National Day celebrations there; the whole country would be decorated and lit up, to celebrate this day. Also, this happens every year around the same time as my birthday, leaving me extra cheerful and chirpy. I miss all that here.

I have been living in India, on and off, for around 10 years now, but it still doesn’t feel like home.

Actually, this place feels like a transient phase of my life; my parents are here, but my heart, elsewhere…

I am really looking forward to the next few years and wondering where would be the next place I call ‘Home‘…  🙂