I spent a few days at my sisters house and we were reminiscing some of our favourite songs from about 7-10 years ago. I came across one that just made me swoon all over again and fall in love. In love with what? Well, that remains a mystery.
For now, enjoy this great cheesy song. I will return soon with a long blog post. Promise!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Lyric
I know I've been quoting a lot lately.. But sometimes it's the best way to sum up everything you feel and think but can't really find the exact words.
This time, it's from one of my favourite songs.
This time, it's from one of my favourite songs.
Have heart my dear, we're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days, making up for all this mess.
Saturday, August 06, 2011
Feed me
As a child I was incredibly thin. It wasn't until we moved to the Middle-East where I found what I loved most. Food. All kinds of food. It was there I realised that I ate not to survive, but I did so out of pure gluttonous love. It was such a new concept to us - we lived in a place where I could eat chicken at any restaurant, stall or packet and know that it was Halal.
Upon settling down, we all gained weight instantaneously. It was inevitable - the food was just a part of our relaxed nature and our laid-back lifestyles. We were finally happy and content. Wherever we went, we managed to find a small yet scrumptious place to eat. Whether it was on the lonely highway between Dubai and Abu Dhabi (which then felt like an adventurously long drive) - where we found a petrol station and a small unpopular eatery that served the best (and largest!) potato wedges with a dipping sauce to die for! Or this unusually yummy grilled chicken sandwich (with no fussy ingredients like vegetables) that would come wrapped in white tracing paper served with greasy but gorgeous chips. Whenever my mum and dad planned a trip to Abu Dhabi, I remember salivating a little, dreaming about the hot potato wedges and the pure white garlic dipping sauce. I would however get sad upon thinking of how I would have to share with the rest of the family.
Around the hungry age of 7, I was completely round. With a matching bob hair-cut which let me tell you, was not pleasing to my already, very round face. I would continue to eat several fillet-o-fish burgers at McDonalds, with added large chips and an apple pie. Shawarma's were like a heavenly made wrap just for me, of which I would devour at least 2 large ones in no time at all. Yes, I was in food heaven - with no care whatsoever of what the food was doing to my chubby body.
It was only when I was about 10-11 years old, when I realised that all the excuses I made for participating in PE classes was not healthy. I enjoyed food too much to burn it off later. What a strange concept, I would think to myself. Exercising was not something I was very fond of. My report card would always read very well, apart from a lower grade for PE, which my dad would just skim through. Clearly, he wasn't much of a "keeping fit" man himself. He loved food, and of all the things I inherited from him - a high IQ was not one of them but being a foodie definitely was.
Upon growing older and understanding food better, and seeing my body swell to a larger size with each passing month, I realised that "being skinny" was the "right" thing to be. I tried to lose weight, by swimming consistently over the hot summer months until my toes bled and formed blisters. But my dad would buy treats that wouldn't help the bulge. He used to buy these chocolate covered marshmallow biscuits that would be so soft and decadent but add about 300 calories per bite. I didn't care. Food was there to be eaten, not to be looked at.
My extended family are also foodies. You can tell with their bulging bellies and the smiles they have whilst eating anything that comes out of a Chicken or a Goat or a Cow. They have this obsession with meat and chicken that took me a while to understand. It was however, only my mum who used to cook a variety of foods when we were younger. And when you have a mother who cooks from all cuisines, and always tries something different all the time, losing weight becomes a long lost dream and gaining weight becomes second-nature. The rest of the family shortly followed by experimenting with foods, that resulted in family favourite recipes like my eldest aunt's old roti's in pieces cooked with mixed vegetables and eaten with yoghurt. Every time I eat it, my nose drips and my tongue burns with heat, but I can't stop eating it.
Even now, when I travel back to Dubai - the first thing I do is eat something that is classified as unhealthy, like a scrumptious cheese burger dripping in pickled sauces and processed cheese. Yes it is all unhealthy, it has high salt content - but if it brings you joy for a few minutes, why not indulge a little? Food has become too much of a bad-obsession these days - leading to either obesity or a size-zero craze. What happened to when no one cared, and everyone ate what they wanted to?
My mum tells me stories of when she was a child and how she would eat fresh cream made from fresh milk with sugar on top, just as a snack. Or when my dad would slice butter and just place it on top of white bread and eat it with sugared tea. They never suffered any health problems, and were very fit and healthy. Do something like that now and you'd be put on the "Fat Families" show or a news paper article titled "the unhealthiest family in Britain."
When I moved back to London, I used to notice how everyone was so weight and figure concious. I have to say, I was drawn into that way of thinking for quite a few years. I started becoming increasingly unhappy with my weight and decided to make changes along the way by trying a range of diets and cutting out many deeply-loved foods. Chocolate, quickly became an enemy and soya-based products a good friend. I was losing weight, but I was unhappy. I started forming more health problems than before, with strange "allergies" appearing and disappearing with a blink of an eye. But I continued to stick to what I felt was best for my health - losing weight. It turned into an obsession when I joined the gym and was aware of everything I put in my mouth. Food became something I ate in moderation and according to my new diet I couldn't think about anything that was delicious - it was a crime. Along the way, losing weight and becoming fitter, I realised that I missed food. I missed the way I saw food.
Lately, I've been having conversations with my sister about different and weird foods she's been trying. It got me thinking that I seemed to have lost that spark with food. From the once cherry-cheeked girl I was, to the now somewhat distracted woman I am, I feel like I need to rekindle that relationship that bought me most joy. Food. You were greatly missed. Long gone are the days where I measured what I ate in calories and cared about moderation. It's all about the satisfaction. Losing more weight will happen in it's own time, I just won't stress myself any more.
Upon settling down, we all gained weight instantaneously. It was inevitable - the food was just a part of our relaxed nature and our laid-back lifestyles. We were finally happy and content. Wherever we went, we managed to find a small yet scrumptious place to eat. Whether it was on the lonely highway between Dubai and Abu Dhabi (which then felt like an adventurously long drive) - where we found a petrol station and a small unpopular eatery that served the best (and largest!) potato wedges with a dipping sauce to die for! Or this unusually yummy grilled chicken sandwich (with no fussy ingredients like vegetables) that would come wrapped in white tracing paper served with greasy but gorgeous chips. Whenever my mum and dad planned a trip to Abu Dhabi, I remember salivating a little, dreaming about the hot potato wedges and the pure white garlic dipping sauce. I would however get sad upon thinking of how I would have to share with the rest of the family.
Around the hungry age of 7, I was completely round. With a matching bob hair-cut which let me tell you, was not pleasing to my already, very round face. I would continue to eat several fillet-o-fish burgers at McDonalds, with added large chips and an apple pie. Shawarma's were like a heavenly made wrap just for me, of which I would devour at least 2 large ones in no time at all. Yes, I was in food heaven - with no care whatsoever of what the food was doing to my chubby body.
It was only when I was about 10-11 years old, when I realised that all the excuses I made for participating in PE classes was not healthy. I enjoyed food too much to burn it off later. What a strange concept, I would think to myself. Exercising was not something I was very fond of. My report card would always read very well, apart from a lower grade for PE, which my dad would just skim through. Clearly, he wasn't much of a "keeping fit" man himself. He loved food, and of all the things I inherited from him - a high IQ was not one of them but being a foodie definitely was.
Upon growing older and understanding food better, and seeing my body swell to a larger size with each passing month, I realised that "being skinny" was the "right" thing to be. I tried to lose weight, by swimming consistently over the hot summer months until my toes bled and formed blisters. But my dad would buy treats that wouldn't help the bulge. He used to buy these chocolate covered marshmallow biscuits that would be so soft and decadent but add about 300 calories per bite. I didn't care. Food was there to be eaten, not to be looked at.
My extended family are also foodies. You can tell with their bulging bellies and the smiles they have whilst eating anything that comes out of a Chicken or a Goat or a Cow. They have this obsession with meat and chicken that took me a while to understand. It was however, only my mum who used to cook a variety of foods when we were younger. And when you have a mother who cooks from all cuisines, and always tries something different all the time, losing weight becomes a long lost dream and gaining weight becomes second-nature. The rest of the family shortly followed by experimenting with foods, that resulted in family favourite recipes like my eldest aunt's old roti's in pieces cooked with mixed vegetables and eaten with yoghurt. Every time I eat it, my nose drips and my tongue burns with heat, but I can't stop eating it.
Even now, when I travel back to Dubai - the first thing I do is eat something that is classified as unhealthy, like a scrumptious cheese burger dripping in pickled sauces and processed cheese. Yes it is all unhealthy, it has high salt content - but if it brings you joy for a few minutes, why not indulge a little? Food has become too much of a bad-obsession these days - leading to either obesity or a size-zero craze. What happened to when no one cared, and everyone ate what they wanted to?
My mum tells me stories of when she was a child and how she would eat fresh cream made from fresh milk with sugar on top, just as a snack. Or when my dad would slice butter and just place it on top of white bread and eat it with sugared tea. They never suffered any health problems, and were very fit and healthy. Do something like that now and you'd be put on the "Fat Families" show or a news paper article titled "the unhealthiest family in Britain."
When I moved back to London, I used to notice how everyone was so weight and figure concious. I have to say, I was drawn into that way of thinking for quite a few years. I started becoming increasingly unhappy with my weight and decided to make changes along the way by trying a range of diets and cutting out many deeply-loved foods. Chocolate, quickly became an enemy and soya-based products a good friend. I was losing weight, but I was unhappy. I started forming more health problems than before, with strange "allergies" appearing and disappearing with a blink of an eye. But I continued to stick to what I felt was best for my health - losing weight. It turned into an obsession when I joined the gym and was aware of everything I put in my mouth. Food became something I ate in moderation and according to my new diet I couldn't think about anything that was delicious - it was a crime. Along the way, losing weight and becoming fitter, I realised that I missed food. I missed the way I saw food.
Lately, I've been having conversations with my sister about different and weird foods she's been trying. It got me thinking that I seemed to have lost that spark with food. From the once cherry-cheeked girl I was, to the now somewhat distracted woman I am, I feel like I need to rekindle that relationship that bought me most joy. Food. You were greatly missed. Long gone are the days where I measured what I ate in calories and cared about moderation. It's all about the satisfaction. Losing more weight will happen in it's own time, I just won't stress myself any more.
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