Nope Sir, that’s not a spello. That’s me. Funny? No. Thought so.
Anyways, I have always loved going to the gym as much as a monk loves violence. My earliest memories of trying to flex the tissues around my bones were when I got a faint trace of hair on my upper lip. In those days, having it meant a sign of machoism. I needed to add that dash of style to my personality. Everyone seemed to be doing this, so I joined in. Anthony, the trainer that I had when I was 19 would have told his grandchildren fables of how I grew into the strongest man on this planet. Somethings are never meant to be part of folklore. Sigh. What could’ve been.
Anyways, back into the present. My wife has been asking me to start gymming for about 5 years now. But like the headstrong bull, I have never listened to her. But somewhere, her constant pushing has made me sign up at the gym at office. Its been a couple of days. My wife has shown full faith in me. My brothers have politely accepted this as one of my “fads”. My friend Amaan is amused. He has given me 10 days. Tops. “10 days later”, he says, “dada aap ghar par hee exercise karoge”. Ha! I will go beyond that Amaan… I believe I’m pushing myself hard. My trainer doesnt think so! Sirjee, cardio karo, stamina build karo. Yessir, I am. Muscles, yessir coming up right away!
Anyways, I got to keep this short, cant type anymore, my body is paining in places that I didnt know it could. AAAHHHHHH!!!!!!
