B +

Being an NRI has its pros and cons. On the plus side, I can drink water straight out of a tap, use air conditioning 24 hours a day, and switch on TV without seeing Amitabh Bachchan in an advertisement. On the dark side, my haircuts cost the same as a fake i-pod.

But that's not the reason why my hair haven't been anywhere near scissors in 6 months. No, it isn't the monetary cost that's keeping me away from the Parlors (as Ekta can vouch) - it is the fear of of ending up looking like Donald Trump.

The last time I had a haircut I took a picture of Rachel from Friends to communicate with the hairdresser. I handed a creaseless print-out carefully to the stylist and spoke in the best Cantonese I knew, namely jabbing my finger at the picture and then my head. In response, he took one long look at me, then a much longer look at Rachel (which he proceeded to pocket in his pants) and confidently whipped out his comb and scissors.

I had a feeling I was in good hands and closed my eyes. Turns out, my sixth sense is nowhere near Bollywood's mothers' standards.

The next time I looked into the mirror I looked like a 60s rock star, which isn't a good thing if you don't have a legion of stoned fans getting drunk to love you. My hair were long from the bottom, short from the top and jagged all over. Which would have been all right had I agreed to color them pink and relocated to the 1960s. But in current circumstances, it was possibly a good move to shave my head altogether. (Which I didn't, no guts.)

It took my 2 long years to grow out of the mess and endless good cooking to make up for the shortcoming to my husband. Now my haircuts - they happen only in India.

Okay, so I should have found something much more meaningfully positive about India for an Independence Day post. But what the heck, Jai Hind!

What were the odds on that?

Today is exactly 9 years since I my husband coupled up, so I thought I'd make this post all about making it together. But something far more surprising has happened.

YES WE WON AN OLYMPIC GOLD!!!!!

So go on, ignore me, congratulate Abhinav Bindra instead on his very own blog here!

A conspiracy theory

If you visit my building's gym around 9 am in the morning and spy a short, sprightly girl in really short shorts, huffing her way on a treadmill or curling up in a rhythmic bout of crunches or generally sweating out rivers in any of the myriad options that machines have on offer while pursing her lips intently as she concentrates on the torture at hand and loses millimeters by the minute even as you stare enviously - rest assured it's not me. Nope, it is certainly one of them Chinese women. Who was tiny, is tiny and will continue to be tiny. And frankly, I could throttle her for posing a contrast to me out there.

You probably know this from school, the Chinese have been most noted by history for their accomplishments in the field of torture, such as the invention of chopsticks for meal times and the use of cheap labour 24/7.

But all that is nothing compared to the headway they've made in genetic engineering. I am convinced that away from the eyes of the world, behind Mao's bloody red curtain, they secretly managed to modify themselves into stomachally-unchallenged, or perpetually thin people. I suppose they initially devised the process to fit in a billion people in their limited country size.

But now this Size Zero, in fact, is their new weapon of mental torture through which they taunt us. Making us feel like a beer mug in a tray of wine glasses. Like a planet among asteroids. Like Queen Latifah among any people.

To make things worse, they pretend this slimness is not a natural wonder. No, they spread rumours about why they look like Posh Spice’s cousins to create false hopes. They suggest they have made some effort to fit into clothes that I would fit into only if you melted me, poured me in, and fed a shark with the remains.

Let’s consider their lies. Myth # 1. The Chinese eat healthy food and are therefore slim. That’s easily debunked. As a Hong Kong resident, I can tell you that their diet mostly consists of animal cooked in huge amounts of animal fat. Accompanied with animal soup. Which they chew down with dollops of starchy rice. In other words, fats and carbs and then some more.

How, I ask, do they defy Atkins' Law?

Myth #2. The Chinese are addicted to green tea which cleanses their system. It balances things out, counteracting the effects of their diet. Nonsense! Note how whenever the Chinese are supposedly imbibing green tea, it is always from a cup with a lid, ostensibly to keep the liquid warm for a long time. If you ask me, they are hiding something. They are drinking something else! Probably animal lard, I'm guessing.

Besides, when I, believing the propaganda, drink vats of tea myself, all I do is continue to look like ME - with water pumped in.

Myth #3. The Chinese walk and exercise to retain their figures.

Well so do I, and where that get me? (Answer: shut up)

I guess you know where this line of argument is going. I am asking you, America, to start a new war - for your dignity. Invade China. And when you find the weapons of mass reconstruction, call me.