GRUNTS of “ahh”, “eeh” come from a small fitness centre at the corner of Aung San Stadium where a group of about ten young men, including myself, are working out. Some lift small 20 pound weights; others push more than 100 pounds of steel above their chest into the air. All sweat profusely, but we feign indifference. We have only one focus – to make our muscles bigger.

Looking around the room, I wonder why the men – and I – are there. I ask the others, who spoke of reasons like to be healthy, strong and fit.

I am not satisfied with the answers. There must be something else.

I grew up in a family of farmers. When I was a little boy my parents decided that they did not want me to work like them because it is tiring. They wanted me to get a proper education and work for a better, more promising future. After I passed the primary level in my village, which had no middle school, my parents sent me to town to continue my studies.

They said to me, “Work under the fan, not under the sun.”

Now I work in an air conditioned office, and my parents are pleased. They do not expect anything from me but want me to lead a comfortable life.

Yet I choose to tire myself by lifting weights every morning. I wonder what my parents would say if they knew. They would be sure to ask, “Why?”

My girlfriend does not understand either. She told me that she began to be afraid to be with me because of my heavier muscle and asked me to stop working out at once. I cannot lose her because I have tried for about two years to win her love. Her concerns have made me hesitant to go to the fitness centre.

Working out also seems strange because it places unnecessary demands on my life. I have to wake up early in the morning and cannot have a big breakfast because I cannot exercise if my stomach is full. I have to rush to the stadium to be there about eight, and then rush again to my office at nine. I must eat raw chick peas to be strong and have stamina while I work out. Then afterwards I must fill my stomach with eggs and bread.

Nevertheless, I do not quit. I look at posters of the world heavy weight champions on the wall of the fitness centre and hunger to look like them. I also encourage my friends to join – I tell them, “Men must be strong.”

I have taken for granted that I can be successful at my job without heavy muscles but with a high level of education and experience. Then why am I working out and not studying?

I asked a friend why she goes to the fitness centre. She said she wants her body to be healthy, strong and beautiful. She sang me a song, which praises the beauty of a woman’s body.

It is time to confess to myself. I too go to the gym to beautify my body. I want to be a strong, muscular man.