Sunday, January 4, 2009


Here I was happily hurtling through the haze of Xmas parties, merrily battling late nights, hazaar outfits and pounding hangovers, when one of those Devil wears Prada gal pals we women invariably seem to get stuck with, called up and ruined the final countdown to the New Year for me.
‘Sooo dahling what’s your New Year resolve?’ she trilled loudly, triggering off a headache. ‘I hope you’re going to do something about losing all that weight that’s settled on your hips this time’ she drawled on in a fake London accent. ‘And while you’re at it dahling, you must get yourself a complete makeover, it’ll take the years off your face’ 'And not to mention the smile of my hubby’s face' I muttered under my breath, imagining him trying to figure out who the heck lurked underneath all that greasepaint.

‘So what are your New Year resolutions’ I tried changing the topic.

That did it!

She proceeded to rattle off her freaky fitness program that involved every possible exercise that exists on this planet. Then came the excruciating details of the wondrous diet that keeps Madonna so well pickled and preserved, followed by a list of fat free recipe websites guaranteed to make one look like a celery stick in a week! An agonizing hour later, she was still at it, waxing eloquent about a fashion tip that makes your paunch vanish in minutes, when I finally hung up on her completely convinced that the size of some people’s brain is directly proportionate to their dress size… Aren’t New Year resolutions supposed to be inspirational? Why should they all be so sweaty and so darn competitive?

I decided to find out just what the rest of my pals New Year resolutions were. And boy was I in for a rude shock!

Half of my champagne swigging, table top dancing girlfriends had suddenly turned over a new and utterly boring leaf with dump the booze, stub the stub, battle the bulge and get fit and fine to enroll for Amazing Race Asia agendas! The guys were even !!!

The Art of Living, Past Life regression, Transcendental Meditation, Chakra Cleansing! Everything remotely spiritual had replaced bawdy jokes, burping competitions and beer bellies.

I guiltily poured myself a glass of Merlot and sneaked a peek at my pathetic and utterly ordinary resolutions. And they read like this –
I will wake up every single day at 5am regardless of late nights, cat fights and any other equally creative excuse to write the bestseller that’s supposedly trapped inside me. I will read more than just jokes, horoscopes, cartoons, agony columns and other enjoyable trash so that people actually believe I am an author. I will stop trying to squeeze my guts, glutes and everything else that’s fabulously forty into clothes from Planet Anorexia. I will wallop all those thirty year olds who dare address me as ‘Aunty, Bhabhi’ or any other name that makes them feel younger. I will defiantly shake my sagging booty with √©lan on the dance floor like Gloria from Madagascar. I will laugh, leap and love every single day of the wondrous year ahead, because I have decided to Live Life Queen size…and so should you, New Year resolutions or not..

(DNA Sunday 'Funny Bone' Column Jan 4th 2009)