After a moderate night of drinking, it sometimes so happens that you wake up unusually early, with joi-de-vivre running high. You walk around the streets grinning, until someone points that your mouth is leaking teeth like Govinda, and if you could shut it.
I decide to visit my gym. "My" here used loosely, how sometimes usage implies ownership. Like the chair in office which has your butt print like a fossil from the neolithic age. You didnt buy that chair. But if you arrive one fine day, lower yourself, into the expectant, warm, familiar confines and contours of YOUR chair and find none, your head turns to the skies and questions the cosmos 'Where the fedoras my chair/ Who took my fedoran chair'. The chair that you had never bought.
As I settle into the easy rhythm, I do a mooayna∞ of the room. Two in particular stand out from the gentry.
P.S :
º Aap ki tareef : Introduce yourself please
º Mo-ayna : Survey, look-about (not to be confused with Moana, an animated film )
I decide to visit my gym. "My" here used loosely, how sometimes usage implies ownership. Like the chair in office which has your butt print like a fossil from the neolithic age. You didnt buy that chair. But if you arrive one fine day, lower yourself, into the expectant, warm, familiar confines and contours of YOUR chair and find none, your head turns to the skies and questions the cosmos 'Where the fedoras my chair/ Who took my fedoran chair'. The chair that you had never bought.
What the fedora?
So I went. A layman (whoever those are) could tell that I was a novice. I had a bag slung on one shoulder which is a strict no-no in the gymming community. The bag must be cylindrical with the single strap going across the chest. Ask Pranav. This bag will contain "gym shoes", that are normal shoes chauffeured in jholas. So in my flip flops, I looked like I was out to grab the freshest of veggies and get back to my 'Calendar' duties to the house by the beach that housed 7 orphaned kids, one Mr. India and one Miss Hawa Hawai.
It had been long since I last visited "my gym". During my last visit, I was given a payment receipt that I was carrying this time as proof, lest I experience a 'Aap ki taarif?º moment.
Calendar
It had been long since I last visited "my gym". During my last visit, I was given a payment receipt that I was carrying this time as proof, lest I experience a 'Aap ki taarif?º moment.
The gym is expectedly empty this Sunday morning. Perfect for a gym debut. Thats how Gym debuts differ from movie debuts. And only the latter remains now for me. INSHA-ALLAH!
I reach out first for the stationary cycle.
As I settle into the easy rhythm, I do a mooayna∞ of the room. Two in particular stand out from the gentry.
One was is a lady at another cycle. From her wrists to elbows, she's covered in red bangles, signifying a recent betrothal. For the un-initiated and un-hitched, like wonder woman's forearm, a married lady's forearm bangles deflect the bachelor's gaze. If you listen closely, you can hear the TWANNGGS as it does its job.
TWANG!!
The other was a man who clearly had muscle memory of every weight in the gym. We shall call him Bahubali.
Maintaining a persistent pace on my stationary cycle whilst making these observations, a drop of sweat originates on my scalp. Dodging my thinning pate with ease, gliding down the creased-with-effort forehead, steadily moves past the futile resistance offered by my eyebrow, ends its journey in a splat on the floor. A clear indicator that I need to move on to the other equipments of this gym.
I go where the purists be. To the free wight section.
Picking up weights is like zeroing in on your interests at a pub. Reach for the skies my friend.
I inhale and approach the weight. At first, the weight avoids my gaze. I clear my throat. It looks up. Without saying a word, I hear the following,
"Are you lost?"
This momo of insult wrapped in an interrogative sentence ka maida left me stung as a statue.
My hand is on the weight, its grip in my grip. Competitive heavy lifters are familiar with this timeless moment. That moment when their arms outstretched, torso bent over, the face giving nothing away. Everyone's holding their breath, the judges, the audience, the coach. No one knows if triumph follows.
While I'm suspended in space and time,
I go where the purists be. To the free wight section.
Picking up weights is like zeroing in on your interests at a pub. Reach for the skies my friend.
I inhale and approach the weight. At first, the weight avoids my gaze. I clear my throat. It looks up. Without saying a word, I hear the following,
"Are you lost?"
This momo of insult wrapped in an interrogative sentence ka maida left me stung as a statue.
My hand is on the weight, its grip in my grip. Competitive heavy lifters are familiar with this timeless moment. That moment when their arms outstretched, torso bent over, the face giving nothing away. Everyone's holding their breath, the judges, the audience, the coach. No one knows if triumph follows.
While I'm suspended in space and time,
'Bro??..Can you spot me Bro'.
What the fedora? Bro? Am I the Bro? To confirm this, I must let go of this dumbbell. The relief! I turn around.
Bahubali beckons. B wants to curl a barbell to benefit his triceps. And wants me to 'Spot' him.
What the fedora? Bro? Am I the Bro? To confirm this, I must let go of this dumbbell. The relief! I turn around.
Bahubali beckons. B wants to curl a barbell to benefit his triceps. And wants me to 'Spot' him.
'Spotting', in gym terms means that I , me, Karan, am to make sure the barbell does not crush his/her trachea.
Thoughts sped. Can I? Will my membership be rescinded if I fail ? Whats his set count? What coach should I play? Denzel from Remember the Titans? Pacino from Any given Sunday? It was a Sunday! Which gym playlist has only Maula songs ?
I was unsure, but my call had come.
To Spot me
Thoughts sped. Can I? Will my membership be rescinded if I fail ? Whats his set count? What coach should I play? Denzel from Remember the Titans? Pacino from Any given Sunday? It was a Sunday! Which gym playlist has only Maula songs ?
I was unsure, but my call had come.
As my feet carry me there, the mood builds up. The third Maula song (from Rockstar to Bajrangi Bhaijaan) are all the prayers I need.
I steady my stance, assuring Bahubali with my concentrated gaze. Bahubali reassured, lifts the barbell over his face.
An earthy riff begins to play. Dangal. The lyrics kick in.
Re Latth Gaad Doon...Re Jaada paaad doon..
I steady my stance, assuring Bahubali with my concentrated gaze. Bahubali reassured, lifts the barbell over his face.
An earthy riff begins to play. Dangal. The lyrics kick in.
Re Latth Gaad Doon...Re Jaada paaad doon..
Spurred, I even begin counting. From "Twwooo! Threee! Foouurrr! Faaaiiivvee! Come on push, PUSH! Siiiiiix....Come on one more! SAYYvANN!!... His face is red, veins are popping. One more, I say. ONE! MORE! I repeat. He shakes his head. Cant do it. Yes you can! More head shaking from Bahu. I play the trump card (usually Hulk Hogan).
BAAAHUUUUUBALLIIIII!!
Even married lady stops cycling.
And Yes! Bahubali does a shuddering EIGHT! I assist in getting the barbell down safely (i believe I do). Bahubali is very out of breath. A la Katappa, I tap him on the shoulder, commending the kid on this achievement. Bahubali beckons me in his breathlessness. I squat on my knees, down to his level. He whispers 'Seven ke baad eight aata hai'.
"I know Bahu...I know".
I had done my duty. I could now take out my gym receipt and tear it up. No one's going to forget this debut.
TWANG!
BAAAHUUUUUBALLIIIII!!
Even married lady stops cycling.
And Yes! Bahubali does a shuddering EIGHT! I assist in getting the barbell down safely (i believe I do). Bahubali is very out of breath. A la Katappa, I tap him on the shoulder, commending the kid on this achievement. Bahubali beckons me in his breathlessness. I squat on my knees, down to his level. He whispers 'Seven ke baad eight aata hai'.
"I know Bahu...I know".
I had done my duty. I could now take out my gym receipt and tear it up. No one's going to forget this debut.
TWANG!
P.S :
º Aap ki tareef : Introduce yourself please
º Mo-ayna : Survey, look-about (not to be confused with Moana, an animated film )
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