Sundar had a new job in a new city. He joined as the HR manager in an emerging corporate. He had just got married and moved into a new apartment in a renowned society with his partner.
Sundar was enjoying his life to the fullest. His only problem was his ever bulging belly. His wife did not mind it. She was impressed by his commitment to the family, which was what mattered. Neither did his company care about his physical attributes. His employer was rather happy with his skills and Sundar had been performing exceedingly well.
However, he was discontent with his overgrown belly. He felt like he was walking lead by his own belly,
‘It moves first, I follow.’
His wife had once suggested, “Why don’t you jog in our housing society park?”
“It rained yesterday. It might be slippery.” He came up with all the excuses in the world. His real problem was that he felt too embarrassed to even walk with his belly in public, let alone go jogging or running.
He tried a few tricks. He resized his pants and used a belt which could split his belly in two haves hiding the bottom half inside the pant. But he looked like a short snake which had freshly swallowed an overgrown frog. He always preferred a podium while speaking, but rest of the time he had to hold his breath to look slim.
‘A treadmill at home will be the panacea’, he thought. He had seen many running on these machines flaunting their shapes from the glass-shielded gyms. To please Sundar, his wife consented to his idea. The next day they had huge treadmill in their living room.
Sundar found the treadmill too boring as he faced the dull wall while running. The treadmill also took up a lot of space. The residents staying below were also disturbed by its vibration. Sundar stopped using it after a few weeks.
In a couple of months, the treadmill stopped working. Sundar wrapped it in a cloth to prevent it accumulating dust.
“Is this a piano?” His friend, who visited him once asked.
Sundar explained his ordeal with the treadmill and his friend suggested that he sell it as scrap.
Sundar finally approached the shop from where he purchased the treadmill. The shop took back the machine at a fraction of its price.
The same evening, during dinner his wife commented, “You know the treadmill does not fit in the lift. I could overhear the labourers who carried the treadmill seven floor down. They were saying that had you used the staircase every day, you would not have needed that monster.”
That was a rainy and windy night. Next morning, by the time his wife was ready with coffee, Sundar had finished morning jog in the society park.
“But there was a storm last night”, his wife said.
“Hmm…, but I had seen the rainbow after the storm.” Sundar smiled.
Connect with Penmancy:
Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!