The gym has always been this sort of mythical land for me. A place
where people go in, fat and doughy, and sweat till their man-titties shrink to
mosquito bites (note the obvious Bend It Like Beckham reference), and the
beer-bellies, okay not everyone gets rid of those. However, one thing I’ve
noticed in all my years of working out – for a week, maybe a month on occasion
– is the variety of the crowd that visits a gym. So now that I’ve successfully
broken my pattern (I’m proudly finishing my first trimester), I’ve noticed how
most of them can be easily fit into broad categories.
Disclaimer: I don’t mean to judge people’s bodies. I understand
that everyone’s body reacts differently to working out, some take longer to
shed their tube of fat – I happen to be one of them – and some assholes are
blessed with a good metabolism and frankly, don’t even need to control their diet as much. I do not intend to make fun of people's background or portray all gym-going men as Jaats (mostly because that would be an insult to us Jaats). What I do,
however, fully intend to do is ridicule the behavior of my subjects. I urge
everyone reading to take this with a pinch of salt, as case studies can often
be harsh and clinical.
The Cougars (rawr!!)
Okay, the women who come under this category aren’t technically
all of the same/typical age-group as a “Cougar” cougar (those can easily be
spotted at South Delhi nightclubs).
Cougar: a slang term referring to a
woman who seeks sexual relations with considerably younger men. Typically, the
term refers to women over 30–40 years old who pursue sexual relations with
people more than eight years younger.
These are the women – and they’re not even that attractive L – who come to the gym to
feast their eyes on the “hot” instructors. No, they do not mind the fact that
when, said instructors open their mouth they sound much like my distant
brothers from Sonipat, they ogle at the physique. In group classes, you must
stay wary of them as they’re not afraid to let their inner bitch out if you
stand in front of them or get in their path of lustful eye-contact. If they’re
setting up for a front-row position, it’s best to stand somewhere on the side.
Should you move in on their space you will
be publicly humiliated.
Cougars are not afraid of
being loud with their insults.
So, unless you’ve got that rugged “myself-from-gurgaun” thing
going on and aren’t afraid of casual gym-time flirtation, please to avoid.
The Novice Couples/Families
Remember, they always travel in packs. So don’t expect them to
politely walk away from the good treadmill(s), you gotta be shameless in your
approach or be stuck with one that violently shakes when you run on it. They do
classes together and help each other out. The newlyweds make googoo eyes and
the Parminders and Kaurs steal floor mats for each other – it’s not uncommon
for Sunny Kaur to be carrying four floor mats across the room for his Mummy
Deddy and Sister – some couples join the gym to rekindle their romance. Please
to avoid unless you’re ready to become one of the Kaurs/a third of one twisted
threesome.
The Self-Lovers
Oh lordy, lordy. Isn’t it just the most amazing sight to see a
flappy man stretching in the mirror; lovingly staring at his unfit body, in a
barely-there towel, as soon as you enter the locker room after a workout?
Isn’t it mind-joltingly awe-inspiring to see how comfortable a man
is with his body to take his boxers off in the locker room – while you’re bent
down tying your shoelaces and find yourself staring at a hairy butt?
Is it not absolutely entertaining to hear a guy pat/thump his
chest/arms, while eye-raping himself in the mirror, while you try to grab your things
and get the fuck out of the locker room?
Isn't it hilarious to hear two guys admiring each other's bodies? "Bhai aap toh ek dum Zehar ho gaye ho!"
The answer, I'm afraid, is a resounding NO!
The My Locker Room Is My Home-ers/The Homers
Oh man! I've had a long-ass workout. So now, watch me as I change into dirty, faded, loose boxers in front of everyone and smear my body with talcum powder. The many hairs on my glorious body will catch the talc and make me resemble a Native American chief. I shall then proceed to lift my boxer's waistband and proudly powder my balls in plain sight of everyone currently changing around me. Why don't I care, you ask? That's because every inch of my unfit body is dripping with sexuality. Bitches can hate all they want. Peace out!
So what if I'm fat? I’m fat and that’s why I’ve paid an unnecessarily large
amount to come to a high-class gym where I can get personal attention by a
trainer. My large expanse of a body is here to be worked upon and attacked. Why
in the world should I care about what I currently
look at when I know that what I will
look like one day would erase all memories of my current state? So what if
there are guys who look like their torsos are made of carved stone? Mine
proudly hangs and sags in front of me. My goal for the month is to be able to
see my toes, and within two months, touch my balls without having to push away
my belly flab. I am proud to be fat and when I’m through with the gym, bitches
will bow down to me!
Okay. So, I’ve showered for long enough and in the process
run my hands over every inch of my ultra-sexual body. I guess it’s the perfect
time for the locker room to be full of people mid-dressing/changing/whatevs
bro. it’s time for me to walk out in nothing but my towel and make them feel
like dickheads for even bothering to work out. It’s so funny bro the way they
look and feel like shit about themselves. I love that feeling bro, of setting
my hair in the mirror as they make way from me and this lovely body I have. Now
that I’ve got a solid body I must walk around and make people wonder why they
don’t just leave yo. Peace out. Love u all.
So what if people think I look like a peacock, ya? I know I'm bald and all but look at my body also no? I mean, I've worked so hard on it, don't I deserve to show it off? Don't I deserve my fifteen minutes of fame as I stand in my tight briefs and answer phone calls? I may not be fair and all, not even that good looking, wait not even remotely good looking, but this body is my temple no? As Louis Litt says, I'm not afraid of showing my body (or something like that), I shouldn't be afraid either. I love myself. Look at me. Please.
