From the moment you’re born, till the moment you die, life will shit on you. Not just measly hand-brushable bird droppings, but often even huge rhino-sized lumpy dumps, sometimes just for the heck of it. Regardless of where you yourself shit, be it on the biting cold railway tracks or the marble floored pots and pans, life shits on us all, equally and generously. In fact sometimes this world seems like nothing more than a globular chamber pot for the One Above . Anyways, when one does feel that one is being shat upon, there are various things that one can do-
1) Keep on Stinkin’ – Keep wallowing in self-pity and shout out into your pillows how it’s all unfair that you keep getting drenched in God’s poop, until you slowly get used to the stink. Eventually you transform into the stink itself. Little little waxy gooey turds of ‘kismat’ that sit on the lines of your hands while you look around for the beast that you were excreted from for help.
2) Wipe if off – Like a good little nun, you wipe it off and move on, flushing the soaked toilet paper forever and thanking the lord god for…for whatever reason that seems appropriate at that particular moment (might vary from person to person).
3) Reason it out– You watch yourself listening to your brain tell you that shit is just processed food, conversion of energy, that sort of crap. You’re going to become fodder for the worms someday anyway, so it’s a good thing you’re getting a little practice beforehand in dealing with ammonia rich products. All this while your train of thought gradually shifts to the winds that will carry your awful scent to the millions of blinking eye like stars that adorn the huge black spider that you think the sky is. Then you fall, eyes unfocussed and saliva drooling off the edge of your hideously curved lower lip. Over- analysis # fail.
4) Understand the food chain – You go to the nearest Mc. Donald’s that you can lay your hands on. Order 2 Maharaja Macs, 3 Mc grills, 1 Mc puff and a Veg Surprise. Eat. Then you order an extra large coke and dump a whole packet of IsabGol laxatives that you bought on your way, into the coke and drink. Drink like you would an oasis in a scorching mustard desert. And then you wait. Feel the semi-solids mining their way through the lengths of your foodpipe into your stomach. Feel it wriggle and gurgle inside you. You wait for exactly 6 hours, the incubation period for a nice good humungous pile of crap. Feel the creation of life within you. The last two hours of the six will be the hardest. The labour pain. Endure. Wait for your child to come avenge you against all those who shat on you. In the last half hour, slowly make your way towards whatever shat on you or better still you may go find a new receiver to dump it on, carrying the food chain forward. As Michael Buffer would say, “Let’s get ready to ruuuuuuuummble.” In the last few seconds, they say you start dreaming of pearly white toilet seats, golden jets of sprinkling warm water and a heaviness in the bowels that only mothers in childbirth are said to experience. When that happens, you shit. The very moment you do it, you experience natural nirvana, a lightness that only angels with wings are supposed to feel. The dumping process is complete. You’re free.
Conclusion? – No matter what you do, life is still full of shit.
