"Amma, I have no clothes to wear" goes up the tortured cry. Amma gives me an exasperated look. "What? Just look at your cupboard. Every time I open it, clothes keep falling out . How much more do you want? Do you know, when we were young, we used to have only two sets of sarees which we used to wash every day and use alternately". Having given me this homily, Amma vanishes into the kitchen to avoid my wailing. We have to go to visit some people and I have to dress up properly. Clothes after clothes are brought out of the cupboard and tried out. One is tight there. One is tight somewhere else. I cannot wear such tight clothes. It is indecent. Queen Victoria did not derive her inspiration from me for no reason. "You need to lose weight. You cannot be so overweight at 14. Look how figure conscious people are these days". Every Tom, Dick, Harry, friend, relative or other animal making a visit to our home informs me of this. Why don't you go swimming? It is good exercise. But that requires me to get into a swimming costume. Not decent. No. Not on the agenda. "Look at the way you dress. Can't you get some better looking clothes? Your dresses look like tents". Oh well, that is my allowance to healthy activity - camping. So I live in tents. And am perfectly happy in them. Eventually I buckle in. I go for aerobics, I go for swimming (yes even I, from whom Queen Victoria drew her inspiration), I go for yoga. But it is such a drudgery to get my ample self moving. I lack a very important thing. Motivation. It is not sufficient if you just do a little exercise. You also need to control your diet. But my taste buds protest loudly at this. I mean if they should not be exercised, would they not waste away? What use their existence then? Did God create them for nothing? Did he not know what he was doing? Oh this is absolute torture. I am not motivated enough to keep smelling all the wonderful odours that float out of the kitchen and keep out of there. And having set eyes on the fanciful fare, I cannot avoid tasting it. I simply lack the motivation. One day a gurumayi comes home and says. What you lack child is the motivation? Just wait! I'll give you the magic mantra. Say the word “motivate” 108 times in the morning and 108 times in the evening. I promise you if you say if for the next 108 hours, you will be motivated enough to get down to losing some weight. I say it as prescribed and it sounds to me like “moti weight”. I am now dying of mortification at calling myself “moti” and talking of my “weight”. The deed is done. I am now motivated enough to start a weight loss programme. I throw myself into the programme with all my weight. I am delighted with the results. The ugly duckling now looks like a swan. The moti waited long enough to lose all this weight. She will certainly take care of herself in future not to lose the benefits of this major war on weight that has been waged. Everyday is a battle against self and nature to keep the weight away. The years roll on and eventually the rolls pile on. There are many battles waged in the course of time. Some are won only to be lost again. Eventually, "Lady Wisdom” takes her place along with the rolls. She tells me, “whatever will be will be. You have to enjoy yourself, you see?” I accept that advice, buy myself a lot of tents all over again and decide to live a healthy life “camping” in them. This way, even moti will not realize how much weight has piled on, let alone others noticing. As they say “Ignorance is bliss”. Que sera sera. Moti and weight will coexist peacefully till death do them part.