jalebi

Lactose intolerant.

You see a multiple level of disclaimers on chocolates and other snacks. Peanut allergy, gluten free, lactose free – whatever. I always wondered. These seemed to my mind a fad for rich countries. The Americans were in any case pretty crazy with all kind of weird alien diseases and mental allergies. Come on man, what kind of shit is peanut allergy. It’s an allergy that was designed for the villain in a Hollywood movie to have – so that he accidentally swallowed one peanut and his face instantly erupted. Normal people don’t have these allergies and why would you be so bothered about a factory that manufactured these products, as long as your food doesn’t have it.

I had a tummy issue for the last three years. My tummy would just bloat up and I would take my medicines and it would come back in place. So much so that I had two sets of pants – 2-3 inches apart. I was confident that my ayurvedic doctor would solve it. But for some reason, things would move forward and then relapse. It was pretty painful. Not painful in a physical sense but more bloody mental. Gas is a bloody irritating thing. And especially when you are active and keep playing a lot and then you look at your tummy and feel like a piece of shit. Of all things – I don’t especially work towards an Adonis body. I don’t like the big muscle look. For me it was always the lean sportsman that I admired. Lean, fast and light. And then I look at my tummy and wonder. I actually thought I was fat around the tummy.

Then it got really bad. Whenever the medicine effect lapsed, any physical activity would have triggered a massive debilitating headache that made me go completely numb. It was so irritating that I would not be able to remain patient with anything. It took a lot of effort to not get angry and irritated at any one even madly irritating. That was the final straw and I was then referred to a gastro specialist. I was convinced that I had germs in my tummy. Because I could eat and eat and all I wanted to do was eat to neutralize the acid build up in the tummy.

When I went to the doc, I was prepared for an endoscopy to figure what’s inside. She patiently heard me and then she asked me if I wanted an endoscopy done. I shrugged. A few more questions later she said – before you do the procedure – do one thing. Go off lactose for ten days and see. She thought I could be simply lactose intolerant. I was ready to give it a shot. Who knows?

The effect – in just 10 hours – all gone. Wow. This was a magic pill. I have been lactose free since the last month or so and then it’s been all great. Play as much as you want, no migraine. Yes the dreaded M word. I refused to call it migraine. But that’s what she called it and poof – it’s gone. I used to try to cure it with acidity pills. So there – I had this Lactose intolerance.

This is such a difficult diet for India. We don’t understand Vegan. We can’t understand how to remove lactose from our food. No lactose means no milk, no butter, no ghee, no cheese, no curd and no buttermilk – nothing. No cheesy pasta, no Indian sweets, no chocolates, no pizza, no dal makhani, no paneer food, no butter on bread, no biscuits, no cake, no ice cream  – it eliminates almost anything that is unhealthy, fattening and sinful.  I am going crazy while travelling and eating outside. You can’t tell the waiter about serving Vegan food. He doesn’t understand it at all. So you have to explain no milk, no cream, no ghee no butter. He looks at you and is confused. He is normally accustomed to no oil. A few of them are dumb struck and a few of them are far more cooperative. They rush in and ask the chef and come back with clear information.  I drive them up the wall and they drive me up the wall. Why is it so difficult for Indians to understand dietary requirements? Oh dam you. I think the only thing we have learnt thanks to our obscenely high heart attack rate is – No OIL. Everything else remains a mystery with them.

But hell, As of now – I am enjoying it. It’s a great way to get healthy. Get allergic from the bad stuff. I can actually go to various parts of the country and come back fit. I can’t have almost anything. The saving grace is that Samosas and other fried stuff seem largely ok. But more than me it’s my co travelers and those around me that feel amazing sympathy for me. They feel bad. They wonder what they should eat. Oh go on. I don’t care. The fun ones try and make me jealous. Oh go on, I don’t care.

Food was never one of my big desires. I never did really be tempted by the palette. I am happy eating simple stuff. Do I really miss anything for now? For now, none. I am happy. It’s a big change for my eating habits but no real change for me. Of course from now on every place we go out to eat with someone I will first have a 10 minute conversation explaining my intolerance and then looking at their faces wondering – how the hell will I survive. Then simple eating will start. It will be a fun ride.

And the invariable question – how long? Well this is supposed to be on for every. Let’s see. Forever on – I will live without eating even one chocolate or a cake or a jalebi? Sounds like fun.

On the topic – see this ad – it’s a classic – Dhaara.

connections

Sometimes it takes a simple strain in a chest to write a post. Huh? Well if you realise the reason I write and if you are familiar with my family’s medical history then you might better understand my thought process.
I write this as a note to my daughter who might be able to understand the choices I took and the fun I have had and the growing up I underwent while I had her as my daughter. Thats the ciomplicated part. The easy part is that in my family, we all males seem to be dying the day we are born. All the males from my dad’s side suffered cardiac arrests. They were all hale and hearty till the very end, suffering from no other complications like diabetes, blood pressure or other complications. Simple blocked arteries. My dad got his first attack while we were in Ahmedabad attending my cousin’s wedding. He was around 45 years old. He second and fatal attack came in 13 years later.
I have had a few long conversations with dad. I have hung on to every word he said. I have tried to understand his thought process and his value construct. It has helped shape me tremendously as a person. He was largely at home in those 13 years and they possibly gave rise to the opportunity to have these conversations. Who knows, if those 13 years would not have been granted then what would life have turned out. here I am not so worried about the financial/ practical implication but the more important philosophical implications. I learnt to read a lot from one boss – dharen, and I have had a few such important guiding forces, but I guess my dad for me has remained my moral compass, which is essentially on which everything else was slapped on.
Like when I listen to any one, it’s not what he says that interests me, it is the thought process. The authors of the blogs I read or the lecturers I go for. It’s always the thought process. Once the thought process is in place, the rest would follow. So when I meet smart people I am instinctively drawn to their way of thinking. How does she respond to issues? How does he raise issues, how does she identify issues etc? So when monkey follows, the monkey is slightly more evolved and smarter. That’s how I think I improve, not by merely imitating but by keenly following like a good detective tracking his target. Getting into the mind of the target. I guess I might do better if I do the same by getting into the mind of people who tend to piss me off. But then that’s too much of an effort. Wasted effort. I would rather concentrate and use my energies into people I admire rather than loathe. But ya the latter do give you insights into what not to do and what you definitely don’t want to become.
So these days I have been fairly busy but enough not to write a post. And one little chest niggle (probably indigestion) now and it made me reach out for the word processor and type furiously what came to my mind. While I was writing I also checked on the Google for symptoms during an attack to be doubly sure.
Here they are
If you have never been diagnosed with heart disease but develop any of the following symptoms, consider the possibility that you have angina. Make an appointment with your doctor, and arrange for a cardiac screening as soon as possible.
• Chest pain that comes with physical exertion and eases with rest.
• Chest pain that is brought on by emotional stress.
• New or unusual shortness of breath-if you suddenly find you're winded after climbing a flight of stairs when you used to be able to take the same flight of stairs in stride, for example.
• Indigestion, particularly if indigestion is unusual for you, if it does not respond to antacids, or if you do not associate its occurrence with eating.

Talk about being well prepared or simply put – paranoia. This paranoia drives me to be insured and fill in my mediclaim checks on time.
But write I must and it has given me more meaning. I hope someday it will give Jispa some meaning. Hopefully I live enough to have some ‘life chats’ with Jispa. Hopefully she likes them and doesn’t get bored of them. She is growing up fast and she is likely to get actively disinterested in her dad’s voice.
Just the other day I was at this new hair salon at king’s circle getting my hair cut for 99 bucks. I was trying this new place and I feel that at 99 itself I am overpaying but my good old men’s saloon I think is now losing it ... finally. Its getting sad by the day and the AC might not work or the guys cutting are really not up to mark. But at 99 this place called hair expresso by Javed Habibi (I think)is still better than some other salons in the area that charge more than this. So at this place I walked in to see a bare bone salon, nicely simple though. A middle aged guy around 45 plus or so was getting his hair cut along with a girl and another person. A decent mix. The girl was quite finicky and a little unsure about herself and the cut she was getting. Afterwards I realised that the guy was her dad and her dad was reassuring her ‘beta, it’s ok and trust the hair stylist. She knows her job’. I couldn’t help wondering, would I ever take Jispa when she older for a hair cut. Would she want me around? I guess not. The odds are way off. From my side and hers. And even if I am around to foot the bill, I am not likely (I hope not) to interfere in her conversation with her stylist. But it’s interesting how the city has moved. From an exclusive mens and womens domain which the salons used to be, now we can have daddy and beti getting a cut side by side. Some trivia – I think Jispa’s first hair cut was done while she was around two and she sat on my lap at the time.
I don’t know when the umbilical cord gets detached and by whom and in which respects / situations. Sometimes I like to be attached to my daughter and sometimes not. Ditto for her. These days Jispa is getting extra attached before sleeping. She insists that one of us puts her to sleep. Why is that? I have to sleep beside her and read or at least sit beside her with my legs on her bed and read or at the very least sit around the room. It funny. We wonder why she regresses into these demands from time to time. And I don’t know what to do. Be the doting father who agrees or be the guy who says ‘ grow up kid’. Jasmine has given up on trying to stop me. I always get up and give in. I like it myself, but I always bargain with her that tomorrow she would have to sleep. So yesterday she said that tomorrow I will sleep on my own.... she then added a line saying... I don’t know what will happen day after tomorrow. A daughter of a banker will always add a disclaimer I guess. Fine print!