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Image courtesy entertainment.in.msn.com |
I wish I had the same friends and well-wishers that Aishwarya has. It’s been over five months and the lady has yet to shed her post-natal fat. Yet all I hear is applause for letting nature take its course and bravado for choosing to spend time with her baby instead of sweating it out in the gym. When questioned about her larger than life appearance at Cannes, Ms Bachchan proclaimed that she’d rather be “healthy” and is no mood to listen to people’s recommendation when it comes to dieting.
Personally I have no problems with Ash flaunting her flab in the tents she wears. In fact I am also happy for Abhishek for getting more than he bargained for.
My problem is why weren’t you there to defend me, when I had started looking like Dolly Bindra’s distant cousin during my pregnancy. My “alleged prettiness” was referred to in the past tense and I was branded a moti for no fault of mine. By my last trimester, I couldn’t see my feet and my feet couldn’t see the sky. I was waddling like a penguin and even my Mom (after a lifetime of accusing me of being too thin) had started sniggering at my new shape. My clothes refused to accommodate me and I refused to recognize myself in the mirror. Things took a turn for worse when a heavily pregnant me was asked by sweet little girl in my school – Didi, are you married?
How dare she assume that I am this fat! I mumbled to myself as I shed copious tears for my lost vanity.
The next few weeks whenever I met strangers, I made sure that I acquainted them with my marital status before disclosing my name. Guess what! I am married. By the way, I am Purba.
How dare she assume that I am this fat! I mumbled to myself as I shed copious tears for my lost vanity.
The next few weeks whenever I met strangers, I made sure that I acquainted them with my marital status before disclosing my name. Guess what! I am married. By the way, I am Purba.