We’re visiting our distant relatives at their house again. At the behest of my mother, I smile sweetly and answer all the probing questions about my life. An aunty comes back from the kitchen and hands me a plate of samosas, biscuits, chips, cake, and sugary chai. I politely decline with a combination of the excuses I’ve mastered over time: “I just had a large lunch”, “I’m not hungry right now”, “it is too much food”.

Simultaneous cries of outrage erupt from every corner of the room: “You’re so skinny, you need to eat to fatten up,” says one aunty; “don’t deny yourself because you’re on that crazy American diet of yours,” says another.

“You need to become healthy, you don’t look healthy right now.” They all nod in agreement. Here we go again.

Each time I return home to India after a semester away at college in the US, my friends and family inform me that I don’t look “healthy” enough.

I beg to differ. I only consume vegetables, fruits, whole grains, nuts, seeds, and 80 per cent dark chocolate. I work out six days a week. I have an average BMI, average fat percentage, average waist circumference. I care about my health, and it shows.

My friends in the US joke about aspiring to the “Nikita diet”. My Indian family, however, focuses on my lack of chubby cheeks and absence of flab. In India, my “diet” is dismissed by people who claim I don’t eat “real food” and who bemoan my un-plumpness.

Unfortunately, this is a description of “healthy” that is still widely accepted in India. This needs to change. It negatively affects self-confidence and body image. It influences behaviour about food. It ultimately contributes to the rising obesity epidemic in India. This cultural perspective is the exact opposite of healthy.

While there are some sections of Indian society that are changing their idea of what “healthy” is, the average person has yet to do so. The environment doesn’t make it any easier: socialising with others usually involves fried food and sugary drinks, restaurants ubiquitously offer large portions of richly prepared food, and I’ve visited friends’ houses that have elevators in them, so the kids don’t have to “waste their energy” climbing three flights of stairs.

For some in India, the norm is to be slightly “round”. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not fat-shaming love-handles. Nor am I advocating for a spartan lifestyle, deprived of epicurean delights. But the consequences of our modern approach to food has led to an increase in diseases related to obesity, including diabetes, heart disease, and cancer.

If obesity has increased because of increased calorie intake, decreased physical activity, and a rise in added sugar and processed food consumption, then these are the very behavioural nodes we need to fight.

By mocking me when I choose to walk up the stairs to our 12th-floor apartment, or scoffing if I decline a fried “snack” just 20 minutes after lunchtime, you are condoning the negative lifestyle changes that have brought us to this global epidemic in the first place. If the only way I can appear “healthy” is by conforming to these patterns, then I’d rather not.

The problem of what “healthy” is goes beyond diet and exercise; it gets to the heart of a cultural shift occurring in the country. We’re substituting away from home-cooked meals to the experience of restaurants and eating out more often, because people are busier and cities offer more attractive eating experiences. As a result of the westernisation of our food habits, our diets have substituted whole grains and vegetables for refined and highly processed food. The price for more choice in the market has been to compromise our wallets and waistlines. It isn’t too late though.

Ironically, India was the birthplace of Ayurveda: ancient wisdom that outlined a concept of “health” centuries ago; wisdom that looks remarkably similar to the latest health trends in the West. I’m hopeful India will catch up to this next (and earlier) version of “healthy”.

Even now, if someone does venture – at the risk of being mocked by society – to discuss their interest in eating more vegetables or joining the gym, it is a temporary thing: a fitness class for a month, or a diet for a few weeks, or watching their health for an upcoming event (most likely a wedding). This transient phase comes loaded with feelings of denial and guilt, and social pressure for not conforming to the festivities and now-normal indulgence. Even when people try, everyone else makes it difficult to sustain a healthier lifestyle.

At relatives’ houses, when people look at me and say I’m not healthy, I will say, “I am healthy and what needs to change is your idea of healthy”. Let’s step back and re-evaluate what healthy should be, so that we can put the “health” back into “healthy”.

(Nikita Taniparti is a degree candidate at the Harvard University John F. Kennedy School of Government for a Masters in Public Administration in International Development.)