Maria’s Speech About Weighty Issues

By Roopa Swaminathan

Hi everyone. I want to address my so-called spiralling weight issues. On behalf of myself, the one kilo I lost, the three kilos I gained, and the fat rolls in my body…let me address what happened at the fat farm. Look, I jumped ropes, squatted, pushed up, lunged, planked, shuffled, and stretched every day for four hours. Rinse. Repeat. And my only reward at the end of the day was – one celery stick.

And, btw, I did lose one kilo in three months. I’m extremely proud of that.

But I didn’t know then what I know now. That binge-eating 10 Cadbury’s chocolate bars, a bag of M&Ms, and three bags of Lays crisps the night before your monthly weigh-in adds to your body weight when you stand on a scale. Apparently, Maths works like that. Also, I did not have a satisfactory dump that morning. To be fair…how much can you dump consuming one celery stick a day?

Look, I weighed 78 kilos when I started and reduced to 77 kilos in three months. But then I ate three months’ worth of hunger in one night and the next fateful morning, I clocked 81 kilos.

The fat farm ejected me saying, “Ms. Maria is not committed. She wants to live a happy life. And she smiles all the time. And that is lowering the morale of the other members of our fat farm. She has to go.”

So, here I am. Sacked. But smiling.

But it wasn’t all bad for me at the fat farm.

My fat rolls have kept me company my whole life. Men have come and gone, doctors have come and gone, treatments have come and gone but my fat rolls have never left me. Every time the excess kilos on my body tried to leave, the rolls would act all tarty, sexy, and coquettish and pull them back in. When the kilos begged for a divorce, my award-worthy rolls fluttered their eyelashes and said coyly, “You can never quit me, can you?” That fateful night the rolls encouraged me to raid my instructor’s office where he secretly kept his own stash of goodies. It fucking takes skills to gain weight after a stint on a fat farm.

Look, are my parents worried? Yes. Are my doctors at the end of their tether? Yes. Would diabetes, blood pressure, and bad knees all benefit from the excess pounds leaving my body? Probably.

But I digress.

Let me talk about the one kilo that I DID fucking lose? I’m still heartsick over that. To the one bestie kilo I lost forever…spread your wings and fly far and beyond and attach yourself to other lucky bodies who will treat you better than I ever did. I only want good things for you.

I want to end my speech by announcing that I’ll now be going for burgers and fries and donuts. Join me. Thank you.

Maria out.