He was restless. And so he had to rush. Four to five cups of Cappuccino and Latte in the first half of a yawn-ing Monday morning leaves some tiring work for the digestive system. The pressure on the hapless digestive system increases more if the Sunday was a late-night party. But fortunately, an adult digestive system, more or less, does its task without fail. A lot of chemical reactions takes place inside it and the result is some awesome fertilizer which unfortunately is too much for the body to handle. Ultimately, the brain directs the body to dump it.
So he rushed and reached his favorite lavatory, ultra-modern, studded with big mirrors and compartmentalized lobbies. Aha, “it is a luxury in India”, he thought. The jaguar advertisements flashed through his mind, especially those lonely models always haunting around those expensive water taps, bath tubs and all such stuff. He was humming a song. He opened one of the doors and got inside. The western styled machine was all closed. People call it commode. He always thought it’s such an unromantic name. Why can’t be it made sexy and appealing like- Butt sitter, Bum Kisser or something similar? Makes it more marketable, isn’t it? Anyway, the machine with two layers of lid always scared him. To close it or open it was always a big question for him. And yes, if it’s closed, you don’t want to open it. But if you don’t open it, you won’t be able to dump. So courageously, he opened it.
It was an unpleasant, treacherous, and monstrous as hell sight. It was blatant uncivilized terrorism. Just like any other human being, his reflexes immediately ordered him to press the flush button. He did it frantically and shut the lid too. Aghast, he returned from the terror spot, closing the lid. But he pushed the flush button again. You can call it vengeance. It didn’t matter if the mammoth organic-inorganic heterogeneous chemical was exited to its much-deserved heaven, the sewer. As long as the lids were closed, he could flush the chemical a thousand times and imagine it dying second by second. In that moment, he just wanted to destroy it without even looking at it. You can say he didn’t have the courage to see it in eyes and kill it.
He banged the door and rushed in the lavatory lobby area. He washed his hands and face, just a psychological and physiological response when you see something that humanly disgusting. As he leaves the lavatory, the whirlpool in the commode had subsided. The earthquake was over. He just wished the chemical was all dead, bruised and flushed.
He hastily walks out of the often visited satisfaction chamber which millions of Indians don’t have the privilege to access. As he sprinted towards his work station, images of that nasty bomb flashed again and again. He tried to be strong and meditate on all the beauty left around. Even the smell has memory. He thinks to kill it by the ‘deodorant’ he fortunately carries in his bag. But all the while, he just wanted to meet that butt bomb terrorist who planted such a nasty bomb in one of the most visited places in any human inhabited dwelling. Now, this is surely corruption. It’s incomprehensible how low can one stoop to hide such quantity of lethal bomb under two awesomely designed imported Italian commode lids? Was it too much of an effort to flush it out? Definitely not. A gentle tap, a playful trigger of the shining flush button could have exploded that bomb, completing its destiny and giving it salvation. Was the water pressure inside that scientifically advanced commode top slow? Absolutely not. The machine in the past had shown its utmost potential to flash any possible dump put into it. Yes, you can call it self-experience.
But whoever that loser was, he didn’t bother to do it. Mental corruption, seriously. It is these same terrorists who put India in the list of most uncivilized countries. It is these same people who spit on roads and walk away sheepishly. If you find such butt terrorists around, kindly give them a punch or two so that next time you are there for unloading your self-inflicted garbage, you don’t have to shit about it. All you’ve to do is to sit and relax, thinking of all beauty around you.
P.S: Please unload your butt bombs safely. It can kill others. Or, at least nauseate.