She was feeling comfortable. In fact, more than that; she was feeling full. Her stomach still felt the weight of the heavy panjeeri she had gorged on the evening before. As soon as the last speck in the bowl had gone in her mouth, remorse had banged open the door she had been keeping shut all that while by leaning against it. As it angrily waved before her eyes the magic figures she had set as her goals, she had felt weak, indefensible, guilty; as always. In her mind, she had seen herself, with her head hung down, only her loose hair visible; her face hidden in embarrassment from the sharp eye of the mental camera. She had felt she wouldn’t be able to face herself. Why did she always defeat herself? She had felt out of control, worthless.

She had quickly recovered from the abyss with images of achieving her goal soon. After all, one learnt from mistakes. She had learnt from this episode, hadn’t she? This was how one grew. If she looked back over the past one year, she would see how far she had come already. Yes, the weight was still the same, but her eating habits had improved so much! The list of her cravings was much shorter now. She knew the progress that she had made. If this progress was so slow, if it was taking so much time, didn’t it also mean that it was more permanent? She would be the girl of her dreams one day, definitely.

She had thought of eating light the next day to compensate for the suffocation her stomach had suffered that day.

That ‘tomorrow of promise’ had already arrived. Her stomach had been sullen since the last evening, and even now seemed like an annoyed roly-poly aunt sitting on a sofa with her back to the errant child, not scolding, but managing to communicate her displeasure quite effectively through her cold silence. She knew there was no need to eat anything.

She was engrossed in an interesting book. The brunch that she had allowed herself was a few hours away. She felt good for making that attempt to conciliate her disappointed goal. It showed that she cared for it, didn’t it? Her goal would realize her sincerity one day and accept her ardent wishes. Oh! How wonderful would that be! She would just whirl in her joy! She would be so happy! To finally be the beautiful girl of her dreams!

She saw that girl wearing an elegant light pink gown, standing by an old door against the backdrop of a sea in high tide. Her hair played about her face. She looked towards her with quiet, confident eyes. She was so ravishing!

Another image formed in her mind, a packet of biscuits. It flashed only for a moment, it came and went. She got up, and went to the storeroom where it was kept. Of course, she was not going to eat biscuits. She was going there to check her weight. She coolly took out the weighing machine, and stood on it. Both her lips bent inwards and pressed each other tightly in a gesture of sharing her disappointment. Her weight was up one kg. She had known it was coming. She had deserved it. Never mind, now she had learnt her lesson.

She kept the weighing machine back, and then, pretending that she could hear no voice in her head, she casually opened the tin container which contained the biscuits. Of course it was all right to have just one little piece! She wouldn’t take a second helping and that was a promise. She took out five pieces, and leaning against the closed door, began to peck into them.