Preface
"One of the best places where a creative mind gets ideas is the toilet where he/she is alone and no one asks the reasons for staying too late, rather people sympathize for the same." -- Anonymous
But this piece is not the product of my mind in toilet alone; this is the offspring of the orgasm between my mind and encountered feces, fresh and stale, of mine and of others spread all over in paddy fields, actually on the bunds, while I carry myself led by my curiosity to talk to the paddy-planters or a shepherd right there in the field.
Disclaimer
No offences to be taken, in whatsoever way possible. Even then, if you're offended, then may God bless you with Constipation often.
Conspirators of NBA
Before I start, let me make it crystal clear what this article is not. This article is not a guide on getting people to toilets. This is also not an insight on Nirmal Bharat Abhiyaan from people’s perspective. Now, if you were misled by the heading, I am sorry. Now, please close this tab and keep working on your billion dollar project. I know some potty-producers will leave, but most of you won’t close the tab. (Let’s not call it stool or feces or poop. Let’s call it cotty or sotty or potty- a name that doesn't evoke nausea to the elite potty-producers who mercilessly flush the feces with just a push-switch and without even blessing it with a look. Disappointingly merciless people.) But I know what kind of monster your curiosity is. For those who are still reading: this is an attempt to understand the feces-producers, the least studied of all producers.
Here the essay begins:
Everybody loves life while hating death. Everybody loves food while hating potty. You see, life is what happens to us between birth and death and yet we discuss so much about life and so less about death. Same marginalization is faced by potty. You can’t imagine how desolate and marginalized potty feels, when it gets to know that you have TV shows, even TV channels for food but for ‘potty’- the name comes and you purse your mouth in nausea- you don’t give a second’s thought. Here is a small effort to compensate for the evils you have caused, O Humans!
‘Life dies with death. Food dies with potty. Death is the single best invention of life. And potty is the single best invention of food.’—Anonymous.
In the earliest morning hours, when few stars glitter in the sky and crickets still chatter, the young boys of village who do arduous physical exercise to prepare for military jobs (The most coveted Government job with good dowry rate in village) walk to a place usually far away from the village to put their potties on fields. They are followed by adults and senior citizens, who with deliberate attention walk over to sit near their own fields, when the dawn marks its arrival. Both kinds- the serious-for-job young boys and the serious-for-nothing senior citizens- are disciplined about their time and chosen places. Majority, say 90%, among them are status quoits. They usually have a comfort zone of 20 meter radius circle around the place they put their potties yesterday.
As the sun begins to orange the sky and birds begin to chirp, the young women, married as well as unmarried ones, walk as a group to their chosen place. Normally their places are fixed. They are the compelled status quoits. Some adolescent girls, who are yet to be trained in womanhood, also join them to receive the lessons given personally. Not the senior-most among them, but the smartest among them decides the place for the day’s potty. They’ll sit near enough to each other to speak out and get listened to. The conversations in the potty fields are such refreshing that even the saddest face which went to the fields comes out laughing jovially and they are recharged for the rest of the day. That debaters’ arena, where house and mother-in-law policies are discussed and debated and a consensus is made, is such engaging that even snails supersede the women walking back home.
Now, when the sun rays start making giant shadows of little trees and the noise of human presence awakens to life, the young boys who have not been infected with the idea of pursuing something in life yet venture out to color the face of earth with their dead food. In most cases, the young ones are accompanied with their friends or cousins (not brothers) of same age. They usually talk about the evening cricket match that has to be organized next Sunday versus nearby village; they talk about the boys who bully them and about their love life. Apart from this general trend, there are some specifics too.
Some loners like to do potty alone. Most among these are nature lovers, may be even brokenhearted lovers. While walking to the point, which they don’t decide too soon, they sing melodious sad songs of Kishore Kumar, and chose a place far, far away from this mad stone-hearted world.
Some are young adventurers. Today, they did potty under the tree. Next day, it must be towards hills. And the other day, it would be in paddy fields. This kind of people are worst enemies of the aim of Open Defecation Free village and would be on the target list of toilet force, if any such force is assembled in future.
Some road lovers prefer the hard PCC road (Plain Cement Concrete) to the grassy fields. These modern painters of PCC enjoy the mixed feeling of potty-ing on a hard surface under the sky and grassland in sight. While some young adventurers could be spotted here, a majority among them gets addicted to the PCC.
Some jealous potty shitters choose their enemies’ land. Jhagru Sharma was one among this kind until one day his friend explained to him that feces turn into humus and they benefit the land. After that day, Jhagru Sharma graduated into another group who shitted on fields, which belonged to him or his friends.
Some weird potty shitters feel good when they do potty on their land among their crops. For these haters of fallow land, the good crop around facilitates the arrival of potty to the ground.
Reactions to Public view
While many potty-makers sit away from crowd, they shy away and feel uncomfortable when they face public glare. Some are brave ones to let the show go on, with a smile on their faces; some are innovative to hide their faces and let the show progress; some faces, down with shame, seem to say that they usually go to the toilets inside their houses but today the morning weather was too good to be resisted; some rebellious ones wear this quote on their faces “Independence also means freedom to shit wherever you want. After all there is no gora shouting at you for this menial act.”
Hearing to Potty
The potty is the most marginalized of all produces resulted from human effort (Effort! Yes, you got it.) Humans are selfish enough to sit, shit and forget. While some potties still enjoy the fresh air and sunlight and green sights, millions are flushed away to be sent to dark gutters.
So, they are sad and alone and feel consistently dejected. If this hatred goes on for long, the potties will go on a joint strike throughout humanity to demand their share of respect. And there are a few humans, who want to send all the potties in the deep abyss of toilet pits, on the hit list of Central Potty-committee that the potties swear on with the utmost loathe. They all chant together. ”O Conspirators! You shall soon be Constipators.”
” O Conspirators! You shall soon be Constipators.” joined all potties in the clamour.
” O Conspirators! You shall soon be Constipators.”, even a kid's potty chanted.
Thank you everyone. May God bless the feedback-ers with constipation-free mornings.
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