There are a million things in this world
that we don’t know about. Then there are those we don’t want to know about. Yet
these snippets of knowledge that we avoid have a weird way of coming back to
haunt us.
We live in a world which is so rapidly
moving towards modernization that if I buy something today, tomorrow it will be
deemed outdated. We Indians have never been the big inventors of stuff. We
follow the next best route to success: copying. You give us something which was
originally yours and we’ll copy the shit out of it and show it to you as if it
was our own, bestowed upon us by our ancestors. Toilets are one of the things
we have imbibed. I hear that nowadays the “urban” people have started using
toilet papers! Whatever happened to the good old hand cleaning?
Aside from the changes which have come in
recently, I am against the institution of using a western toilet for doing my ‘business’.
First of all there are 2 flaps. I don’t think there should even be one flap,
let alone two. And what’s even more puzzling is that one of the cover isn’t
even a cover. It’s like our Indian roads. While we redo an existing road, just
before a visit from some high powered netas, we don’t care about the pothole.
We lay tar everywhere except those potholes. Anyways the issue of Indian
roadways is a topic for another time. Coming back to the ungodly Commode; there
is a small opening at the rear end of the seat which gives out a good velocity
stream of water. Now I don’t even know how to describe how ludicrous that
sounds let alone how weird it feels when you actually try to test it for the
purpose it was originally built for.
Now there is one thing that I have a doubt
about. Why does the fairer sex care about the placement of the 2 flaps so much?
I have seen so many of my friends closing
the lids on the toilets just as some girls were about come over to the house.
And what is it with the 2 lids? Are we supposed to close one and sit on it? Or
are we supposed to open both the lids before doing our ritual? I still have no
clue. For me, going to the shitter was about the peace and tranquility it was
about the different things I could think of without being troubled. It was as
if I was the painter and world was my canvas. After coming to “urban” Mumbai, I
am worried half the time about if I am sitting right on the pooper and the
other half about how to leave the 2 flaps when I leave. This has turned out to
be quite the boweler’s dilemma.
I say let’s cut the crap about these weird
formalities and rules, which by the way everybody seems to know about except
me, and get on with the much bigger issues of our lives. Let a man find peace
in the one place he truly can without stressing about such mundane things.
Happy shitting!
