In Search of My Toes!

I ’m convinced there are only two types of people in this world: those who can actually see their toes, and those who believe their toes exist purely on faith! I proudly joined the second group many, many years ago — my BMI has been over 30 long enough to qualify for permanent residency there.

I never dreamed of becoming a millionaire, nor did I wish to be a celebrity. All I ever wanted—with the sincerity of a saint— was to reduce my tummy and lose just 10 kilos. Not 40, not 50. Just TEN. Yet the universe cruelly whispered, “No.” Like many warriors before me, I have attempted every crash diet imaginable. I’ve starved for weeks, watched the scale drop by one or two kilos, only for the weight to return like a tornado, scattering itself generously across my body as if it missed me too much.

My lifestyle follows a very consistent pattern: Eat. Regret. Repeat. This is my cardio.

Travelling makes this even funnier. I genuinely feel bad for slim passengers who are forced to pay extra baggage fees for 5 or 10 kg. Meanwhile, I stroll through with 91 kilos of personal weight and another 30 kilos of luggage, and nobody asks me for a single extra fils. Honestly, airlines should start charging based on total weight—passenger plus bags.

Many might have heard about the legendary Chiang Mai Breakfast World in Thailand, famous for its “skinny discount” policy. They placed metal bars of varying widths at the entrance, and customers who managed to squeeze through the narrow gaps received up to 20% off. Genius! Naturally, the internet erupted, calling it body shaming. But let’s be honest—body shaming should only apply to things people cannot change: race, colour, height and, of course, relatives. Most people can reduce their weight unless they have genuine medical issues like thyroid or hormonal imbalances. The rest of us simply need a little friendly teasing from close friends—not bullying, just motivational insults. Let your loved ones roast you till you finally surrender and join a gym. That is real friendship.

History books reveal that in ancient times, extra taxes on obese individuals and even on men with long hair. Strange? Yes. Effective? Also yes. Imagine paying BD 5 every time your stomach crossed a particular line. Even I would run.

These days, I fantasise about a new species of mosquito—one that sucks fat instead of blood. Imagine going to sleep overweight and waking up like Chris Hemsworth. Now that’s the kind of scientific breakthrough humanity desperately needs. And let me confess something: wearing jeans has now become a full CrossFit session. Bending down to tie my shoelaces burns more calories than a treadmill. If fitness trackers were honest, they would probably flash, “Workout detected: Attempting to wear pants.”

Here in Bahrain, many people have now turned to weight-loss injections like Ozempic, and some claim miraculous results. But the real suspense lies in the side effects, which none of us will fully understand until years later. For now, all we can do is watch celebrities transform faster than Marvel superheroes.

And finally, the one excuse every overweight person loves: some research suggests that fat people are more generous than slim ones. So the choice is simple—do you want to be a miser and slim, or generous and chubby? Either way, the decision (and the stomach) is yours. Take a call.

(The author is the Chairman & Managing Director of The Daily Tribune )