Tummy VS Tongue

and the obnoxious size of my tummy these days announces the terrific triumph of my tongue.

Aren’t our body parts so brilliantly bonded? There is this unheard, uncanny connection among them. The nose smells the aroma of delicacies, the eyes come alive with the riot of their colors and finally the mouth oozes Niagara of drool.

Good food always excites the little Tommy in me. I can smell great food from miles, wag my tail behind it and keep panting till my dangling tongue polishes the last morsel of everything that’s served.

During my vacation, I am sleeping like a log and hogging like a pig. Everyday begins with my eyes feasting on some grilled sandwiches filled with sinful layers of cheese and jam and some exotic veggies or parathas of all kinds, methi, aaloo, gobhi, paneer, soaked in Amul butter or Pastas cooked in three tangy sauces or Lasagnas richly baked with spinach and cheese. And of course the day also ends with my quick trips to the loo?

It’s like a constant battle between my tongue and tummy. The greedy tongue drops to the floor even at a little glimpse of food and the turbulent tummy retorts in vain.

I have been eating like there’s no tomorrow and I can’t help it at all. I feel so romantic about food. It always feels like the excitement of the first kiss, the first touch, the first night! And I can never get enough of it. After numerous gross farts and burps after every meal, my leg keeps shaking in anticipation and my spoon keeps digging in the leftovers of plate.

As I write my endless romance with food, I see my empty plate that prompts me to raid my refrigerator yet again.

Shaaaaaaaaaaaat Aaaaaaaaaap

was the crux of my meeting with my ENT specialist, though he sugar wrapped it with a million polite words and a zillion unpronounceable jargon (and needless to say charged a bomb of a fee for the same!)

My throat had been acting up for a long time, so I went to see my ENT specialist during my vacation. After numbing my throat with some yikes anesthetic drops and some jazzy mouth sprays and drilling some 50 meter long tubes (fitted with cameras), down my throat, my doctor concluded that my vocal chords were terribly inflamed and the only way to save them from further damage was to keep mum for the rest of my vacation. In other words-

“Shaaaaaaaaaaaat Aaaaaaaaaap.”

Now that’s too much to ask for from an RJ like me. Not that I go yak-yak through out the day, but to play Rani Mukherjee of Black and answer my family and friends in sign language during my vacation is very irritating.

So here I am, all zipped up, frantically smiling, frowning and nodding to everything that happens around me. The up side is that nobody will ever defeat me in dumb charades in future and the down side is that I can’t reply to my two year old nephew who innocently asks me in every two mintues-

“Ka kal lahe ho chahchu?” Alas!

So now is the golden chance for all those people who hate me. Come, shout at me, ridicule me, mock at me, abuse and assault me with the choicest of words that you so wanted to tell me all your life and my only retort would be a sheepish-

“oooo...” like a helpless puppy!