Random outpourings

I was walking home one day, when I saw a monstrous new building on the road. “Oh wow” I thought “must be the new ultra luxury modern sky scraper project from Hiranandani’s, or possibly  the new MUTP mega project.”

But it looked a bit different. And I when I got a little closer, I saw that it was the local chapter of Bindeshwari Dubey’s Sulabh Shauchalaya. Well, I suppose in number of people relieved and happy, Mr. Dubey has done more for the country than any godman or politician.

I don’t know whether India is shining or not, but I must say that the public toilets are looking very hep. This one was a large and imposing building, looking more like the local “Shakha” or a post office or something. I would imagine that the locals will be afraid to pee in it, it looks so gleaming and posh. What a paradox – the toilets look like post offices and the post offices…well, never mind.

I was going to ‘go’ inside, but the attendant prevented me.

“Sorry saar. Not operational as yet.”

“Why not?”

“Inauguration yet to be done saar.”

Inauguration?!! Of a loo?

But the evidence was unquestionable. The attendant pointed to a huge marble notice being put on the wall - ‘This public facility inaugurated by Mr. So-and-so, honorable commissioner, on this date, etc’

I went home wondering how a toilet must be inaugurated.

Does the Hon. Commissioner get to cut a ribbon? or do the first pee? Or both? Just imagine – the commissioner cuts the yellow ribbon, goes inside, unzips and pees as the enthusiastic crowds applaud. I wonder what they will shout – “For he’s a jolly good yellow.” Then he will probably give a speech – and I wonder which of his outpourings will be more appreciated. To honour the occasion he will talk shit, I suppose

Imagine the complications – suppose the ceremonies get mixed up. The commissioner has unzipped and then someone hands him the scissors…oh no.

And just think of how much the official will have to care for – he will have to ensure a steady and impressive flow, not to mention the need for a good aim and steady hand-eye coordination.

And suppose the official has more than one engagement, won’t he run out of …ideas? Also his ideas and outpourings should come in a smooth flow, and not in fits, starts or trickles.

But wait – there are more complications. Suppose the official is a woman? Will she skirt the issue, or settle down to a solution?

Later I was discussing this issue with a friend, and he said that this was the best thing to have happened in the neighborhood.  Now all the people should be forced to patronize this “temple of modern India” rather than letting it all hang out in the streets.

But it costs fifty p to go and P, I reminded him. And since most people in India are im-pee-cunious, they would probably carry out an illegal transaction in the open.

If that is the case, then we must force them – he replied.

We can’t force them to pee, it would be an infringement of the freedom of action of the individual. The international community would object, I said.

In that case, we must do it under IPKF supervision.

IPKF supervision?

Oh yes, he answered. “The International Piss Keeping Force.”

Dress Sense

I was waiting for my flight at Bangkok airport when I saw a person with vaguely Indian features sitting next to me. We got into conversation, and it turned out that he was not Indian, but a Bhutani. This was close enough to home, especially when you are in a foreign country, and so we warmed to each other.

 He looked fairly Indian, and also had Indian mannerisms. I was planning to go to Bhutan for a holiday, and had done a lot of reading about it, so I was able to ask him about the cities of Paro and Thimpu, the ‘Dzong’ monastery -fortresses, the black necked cranes of Phobjika, the 23 day snowman trek, etc. He was very happy that a foreigner knew some things about his country and told me all about them.

After some time he stretched luxuriously and said “It’s so nice to be casually dressed all the time. It makes a nice change.” 

I looked curiously at him. He was dressed fairly normally in jeans and T shirt. 

“Why? Don’t you dress like this at home?”

“Well, we can dress any way we like inside our house, but when we are in a public place we are supposed to wear only our national dress.”

“National dress?” I asked

“Oh yes. We have a national dress called the ‘Bakhu’, and we are very proud to wear it. We wear it all the time, and in fact it is compulsory to wear the ‘Bakhu’ in office.”

“Compulsory?”

“Oh yes. In fact, we are fined if we don’t wear our national dress in the office. Why, don’t you have a national dress?”

“Oh yes, of course. We have a rich variety of ethnic dresses. We have Dhoti, Kurta, Achkan, Salwar kameez, turbans…we have some pan national dresses, and every state has its individual dress. We also say that we are very proud of our dress and heritage.”

“But you don’t wear them much in public do you?”

I thought for a minute.

“No…we prefer to forget them, and prefer to wear the dress of our invaders – Shirt, pant, tie, coat, etc. In fact, we are ashamed of wearing our national dress in public. In your country and in your office you are punished for NOT wearing your national dress; and in our country and our offices, we are punished if we DO wear our national dress.

 In fact, if I come to work wearing a dhoti, kurta and chappals, I will be coldly asked whether I am participating in a fancy dress, and will be ordered to go home and come back properly dressed in shirt, pant and shoes.”

He thought about it for a moment and said “Strange ways you have in your country.”

I couldn't disagree.