Bulbuls
by Sushant Malhotra
When I graduated high school at the sweet age of sixteen, I joined a gym to feel more comfortable in my skin. An outline of a man flexing his biceps greeted me at the entrance. A narrow dark hallway led to a large fluorescent lit room littered with outdated gym equipment. Men in torn t-shirts towered over me like majestic oaks. The place reeked of ancient deposits of sweat. Periodic cries pierced the moist, musty air as massive men lifted and dropped gigantic blocks of reinforced steel onto the stained linoleum floor. They heaved and gasped, as if trying to stay afloat before plunging again and again into a sea of barbells, dumbbells and kettle-bells. It was hard not to feel motivated yet minute in the face of such a spirited display of animalistic aggression. Each day, I found myself an empty corner to work out my arms and legs. Days turned into months and umpteen reps of eight and sets of three later, I was surprised to find my skin stretching taut from head to toe. With pecs jutting out of my chest and shoulders fanning out to my sides, I was on my way to realizing the dream of many a male teenager – to be an adult Silverback in charge of a harem of females and the father of several children. Alas, in the Middle Eastern concrete jungle I called home, there were no women to woo, no rivals to overcome, no food to forage and no territory to defend. Still, I showed up day after day to fight against gravity, hoping another ounce of gluteal muscle might lessen the burden of my insecurities. In time, my head shrunk relative to my body. It became harder to fit into clothes. I took up more pixels in the family photos. And still I felt small, surrounded by men many times my size, with the only respite coming on hot summer days, when in between my sets, I would walk over to a window to catch my breath, only to scare the white-eared bulbuls busy drinking from the condensation outlet of the air conditioner. I still remember how their hollow boned bodies soared into the summer sky as if I were a giant who had set them free from gravity’s spell.
Sushant Malhotra is a writer residing in Oakland. He is always experimenting with new forms, poetry being his favorite. Writing for him is a way to explore the world outside and the world within.