Last evening, I was scheduled to be on a concall with the very charming Faisal Qureshi of PTV for a show on VAW in the subcontinent in time for the One Billion Rising. Given that all that was rising at my end was the quotient of mosquitoes outside the pool I was at while the child was being put through his paces of free, fly, breast and back, I was doing the rather amusing to most onlookers St Vitus dance movements by trying to slap them off all exposed parts of the body. Finally, I gave up and began pacing the perimeter of the pool much like them caged ones in the zoo, although mine movements were far from the sleekly feline I would have liked self to be. At the stroke of eight pm, a neighbourhood park converted itself into a religious discourse site and them songs and such began pouring out over the airwaves, infusing piety and devotion into our souls. At the other extremity of the park, BEST buses shuddered past, honking merrily enough to add to the festivities. The call came through, I struggled hard to make head or tail of the conversation going on in the studio, given the ambient chaos. I said my bit, I prayed I replied in context and made coherent sense given that the other ear that was unblocked by the cellular device was being invaded by mosquitoes of the variant who pumped their biceps at a gym twice daily and drank them protein shakes to beef selves up to mini flying rodent sizes. And continued with my pacing to and fro. It then struck me that I had, in my endevour to discover mini strategies to keep self fit and fighting, and unflabby, recently read a little piece about how those who constantly fidget burn off more calories. This was the God Lord’s way of making me burn calories given that I stayed butt parked on chair for a major part of the day and ingested more calories than I expended, tilting the balance a wee bit in favour of them calories taking up permanent residence around the hip line and resulting in me having to do embarassing things like needing to go sideways through turnstiles or having to ask burly onlookers to pull me free when I got stuck.
All the evening, I was fidgeting and how. By this quantum of fidgeting I should be supermodel svelte within a week’s time I figured. I now have the answer to all fitness questions. Just lock someone up for a couple of hours a day in a roomful of mosquitoes. They’ll fidget. They’ll lose weight. Or they’ll get some vile dengue malaria type illness and lose weight. Either way, the target is achieved.