I *heart* Bombay (and well..Boston)

I'm urban..in the way other people are mountain-people or tunafish junkies. I love city life...something about dreary concrete blocks and grumpy people totally gets my juices flowing. Ergo, this will be a blog about me, my two favourite cities (Bombay and Boston), my addiction to Vietnamese coffee and my views on Gregorian chant and it's efficacy in curing some types of tympannic membrane rupture. Enjoy!

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Ooh Aah Ouch!

The Iron Maiden of Nuremberg.

A torture device par excellence in Germany in the Middle Ages. Now found at that peculiar institution that doubles as a gay man's temple, church,mosque and synagogue rolled into one. The Gym.

Well, not the Iron Maiden itself (though a certain instructor at the Gold's Gym in Bandra could very much qualify for that moniker) But all the assorted torture devices that I've been put through in the last week that I've been "gymming".

I finally succumbed to the lure of attractive hotties parading on St. John's road everyday and walked in with them one afternoon last week. I signed up, forked over a huge chunk of change and err...went shopping! After all, I need working out clothes...

Time to gym. Err.. just what is locker room protocol in India? In the US, everyone just lets everything hang out...which has lead to many traumatic sightings of obese, elderly men with teeny weenies in my past. In "des", I see a lot of the ol' "Indian man changing undies under a towel" bit. First you hop about on one leg, then on the other - all the while clutching at the towel around your waist for dear life. Anyway, I picked a dark corner (My abs aren't at peak "look at me" potential yet) and changed into what seemed like way too much gear. I mean, who needs a wristband anyway?

I'm assigned a trainer who looks like a pitbull. Seriously. He has no neck and about 200 inches of chest. And a high pitched voice. I try not to laugh at how silly this tableau is and concentrate as he tells me in Marathi what I'm supposed to do to look like him someday (He decides I'm Marathi and will only converse with me in that language inspite of me struggling with translations for "I'm dying here" and "Please turn the fucking treadmill off"). He measures me up and says I need a couple of inches here and there and I'd look just like him. Whatever. I'm about 50 inches down on getting arms like him. He must be either blind or a very good motivator. I settle for blind cause here I am with my shirt off and he won't even comment on it...let alone ask me to join him for a protein shake at the juice bar.

10 minutes later and I'm huffing and puffing on a treadmill. I don't think I've ever run in one place since 1998. I wonder if this is a good time to bring up the fact I have asthma and my inhaler is in the locker room. I decide against it when I realize the only Marathi word for disease I know is that for "smallpox". After all, I don't need guys in head-to-toe bio-hazard equipment escorting me out of Gold's Gym..it's hard enough attracting the boys in the first place! I concentrate on what's playing on the TV above my head. It's some show on cooking what looks like eggplant. Is that really a help? I mean watching people make food at a gym? It's hard to follow what's happening with no sound. It's even harder to concentrate when you're running on #8 with an incline of 3. Damn. I should have jogged Zig Zag Road instead of settling for the flat Carter's promenade! My thighs ache.

Free weight time! I flex looking at myself in the mirror. Then I catch sight of a long-nosed Punjabi hottie looking at me and sniggering. I look away embarassed (Note to self: Only work out in non-cruisy hours) Aim High! Isn't that what my teachers always taught me? I plan on aiming high now. Go straight for the heavy weights. OK....the first set isn't too bad. The second set? I already am regretting my choice. Am I even gonna get to the third set? My arms are on fire. My chest seems to have caved in. The trainer stops by. "Sampla ka?" he asks me ("Are you done yet?") "Ho" I lie. I stagger to the water cooler and down about 10 cups of cold water. I wonder if it's OK to cry at the gym.

Crawl my way to the shower and realize I'm now too weak to turn the faucet on. I feel like I've had every single spike of the Iron maiden impale my soft, yielding body. My trainer walks into the adjoining cubicle. I forgive him all his machinations to get me to do more when I realize he has an arse only Michelangelo could appreciate. Sigh. Now I know why I'm going to continue working out even though I'm detesting it after my first day itself. Cause with an arse like that, I could conquer the world.

I exit the gym and head to KFC. 2 Zinger burgers down and I'm about ready for a third. I'm guilty already.

Current Music:
Namak - Omkara

An awesome movie and an awesome song. Probably one of the only "item" numbers I truly like.


  • At 11:18 AM, Blogger Meenakshi said…


    I am so proud of you for venturing to the gym. Vik went to his first Mumbai gym with me only to be told by the pudgy trainer that he could do cardio for no more than five minutes. We looked at each other and laughed. Sure enough, he came over and shut Vik's machine off. He looked at me and said, "you, stay there."..

    And Vikster never came back!!

  • At 11:19 AM, Blogger Meenakshi said…

    PS: Oweeeeeeeeee

  • At 6:55 PM, Blogger Dumaketu said…

    Yo, Vik! doing good, huh? :D

    PS: About Omkara, didn't get a word of the movie but it was nevertheless great!

    PPS: and this thing with zoomclouds is great! I'm getting mine..

  • At 9:06 AM, Blogger cocaynne said…

    Great writing.
    Kudos @ Gymming.

  • At 8:51 PM, Anonymous Riggs said…

    I woke up one morning and realised my waist size was more than my age. I did what any self-respectin hot lookin man would do.

    I joined a gym.

    The first day, the trainer put me on a treadmill and said 'walk'. I did. 70 minutes later, he found me still walking and said to me 'arre abhi bhi?. Day 2,3 and 4 had me do various cardio exercises. By which time I noticed some guys had waists smaller than the circumference of my head and biceps bigger than my thighs.

    I never went back. My waist is still much the same. Someone told me to try yoga. Will let you know how that turns out.

  • At 4:44 AM, Blogger Wild Reeds said…

    Brilliant brilliant brilliant. Love you.

  • At 9:17 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    you're back! you're back!!
    *claps and prances around room*

  • At 1:05 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    gay fokker at the gym? no way! with those minuscule muscles u wont be able to lift the bar let alone the weights. why dont you trying knitting sweaters instead?

  • At 4:50 AM, Blogger roswitha said…

    The ancient art of killing morons with knitting needles does need more practitioners, come to think of it.

  • At 7:03 AM, Blogger Grafxgurl said…


    this is my first time here and i just HAD to sit back and laugh it all out.... got a good cardio workout while i was at it too heh.

    reminds me of the time when i went gymming when i was in India! every day was HILARIOUS!!
    this is it.

  • At 2:28 PM, Anonymous zio said…

    WTF?? I don't even get this...


  • At 10:36 PM, Blogger pranav said…

    haha, this was awesome and reminds me I've to renew my membership and get back into shape soon enough!!

  • At 8:31 AM, Blogger sudeep said…

    Confession time - I went to gym too, and do pretty ok at the cardio! Havent even gone near the weights though...didn't you, err, bite off more than you could chew at the first time?! Do keep us posted on progress and associated entertainment :)

  • At 1:45 PM, Blogger PD said…

    Just discovered your blog via flickr. Hope you haven't stopped writing!

  • At 1:27 AM, Blogger curly said…

    hi there very nice post i really like reading ur stuff (esp the first date thing) i like your style of writing
    would love to be frnds with ya
    tried mailing ya but didnt get a reply guess ur busy
    i dint know one recieves messages from scoundrels (the miniscule mussle prick)

  • At 7:44 AM, Blogger curly said…

    hey ya
    i sent you a mail not a IM
    im james anyway just wanted to be freinds, got a blog too you may want to check it out, but its nothin like yours, ur super good (hehe) hey whats your email id? err may i ask?

  • At 7:13 PM, Blogger Purple Momentz said…

    jeez ... u can sure make even a dead man roll up in laughter !! great stuff !!

  • At 8:51 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    absoutely hilariuos account. I burst out laughing at the description of the trainer.

    came here after a long time and you did not dissapoint!



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