Sense and Sensibility
There are some modern-day lifestyle realities that - try as one may - but just can’t fit into. For most, it is the unending, ever and rapidly expanding world of tech. For others, such as parents my age, it’s the continuously changing lingo that their teenage children go by and even if by chance the parents do learn the words, they tend to sound somewhat caricature-ish when they mouth them. Think g.o.a.t for ‘greatest of all time’ or rizz for charisma or ‘iykyk’ for ‘if you know you know!’ It doesn’t quite roll off their tongues as smoothly.
But for me, it’s something far more benign that I have tried to warm up to without any considerable success. Funnily enough, one without any serious regret and that’s going to the gym. There is a very well-equipped one that’s housed right within my surroundings and is barely a one-minute walk away and after signing up for it, I’ve been paying my monthly fee without fail. Its timings too are great and it remains open seven days a week, so there’s really no excuse to give it a miss. Besides, for at least six months a year now, it’s impossible to enjoy a brisk evening walk, thanks to either the crippling humidity for most months or the smog-filled air in the winters. The gymnasium, on the other hand, remains stacked with all kinds of equipment and has a perfectly good trainer and air conditioning that ensures you aren’t soaked in sweat after a workout. So, what pray, is the deterrent?
Well, for one, it’s a most curious habitat generally lodging two distinct kinds of species. The first is the lot that is totally on cue. They are lean and fit with perfect body-mass indexes and have all kinds of accoutrements on them - from a head and wrist band to a smartwatch that calculates every bit of their workout; from non-marking shoes to dry-fit tees, they are perfectly geared up, each day, each time. This lot also admires itself after getting off each machine, carefully observing its muscles with unabashed vanity in front of full-length mirrors.
The other lot is the one that’s hopelessly out of shape and style and has come to the gymnasium on threats and warnings issued either by their doctors or spouses or both. With sagging assets and beer bellies, this group avoids the tell-all mirror and at best, sports a grin and bears as they try to shed their calories. Wedged between these two polar ends, one finds oneself as the classic minority who isn’t in urgent need to shed those kilos but would like to remain at least moderately fit and active. One who still prefers and continues to associate sports - the kind that is played in open fields and courts, with fitness, rather than rooms that are tube-lit and almost freezing. And loud!
Loud - that perhaps, is my biggest gripe with gyms! Why on earth gymnasiums have to belt out ear-splitting, chest-thumping, obnoxiously worded numbers, is beyond my comprehension. Is there a study that connects high-decibel environments to a loss of calories? Or one that induces more minutes on the treadmill if enveloped by a thump-thump surround sound? I understand that some amount of beat and rhythm may be necessary to sort of get one into the groove and I’m not suggesting Rabindra Sangeet or an alaap by Aamir Khan being played at gyms. That would not make any sense. But surely, a sound that is less assaulting?
One time, I got lucky. A neighbour dared to go up to the Bluetooth speaker and switch the USB drive. He smiled at me as he said, “Retro.” I was delighted. There was hope in hell. Soon after, followed familiar chords and lo and behold, I heard the voice of Bappi da tearing through all the steel and metal and machinery. Alokesh Lahiri never sounded better! And within a few seconds, came the rapper and the drummer and the whole army of musicians who had re-mixed the songs to of course add all the thump and gyration.
Unless the monsoons suddenly evaporate into lasting a few weeks instead of a few months, the gyms are here to tread on. And I for one, better learn to put on my gym shoes. But just as soon as I receive the earplugs, I ordered them online so that those gym decibels can fall on deaf ears!
Supriya Newar is a Kolkata-based writer, poet, music aficionado and communications consultant. She may be reached at [email protected], Instagram: @supriyanewar, Facebook: supriya.newar and LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/supriya-newar
