DOODY CALLS

                                              DOODY CALLS

I begin every morning with cold coffee. Yum. I have been indulging in my frothy-icy-shaken in a shaker Nescafe since the beginning of time. My day is a little less ugly the minute my milk mustache settles on my upper lip.Yup, I got milk.

After the coffee, comes the bathroom ritual. I am a girl and of course, I never poop, fart,burp, or spit in my sink. I just light scented candles and blow soap bubbles and giggle as they pop. And today morning, as I lathered up in all kinds of pink (more things that girls do), I started to think about bathroom rituals.

The first and most common ritual of them all is  'Reading the newspaper on the potty'.

We prefer to fill our brains with disturbing images and heinous headlines, and stare at over-weight, manly looking female politicians with hideous hair-dos than be alone with our own thoughts. I guess deadlines and 'things-to-do' are enough to send our bowel moments on strike. Other people's problems and sadistic murders are much easier on the stomach.

The next ritual is ' Cigi-on- potty.' I know enough people never go to the loo without a "cigi," "a smoke," "a fag" or a "coupla drags."  Whether they are smokers or just pot(ty) smokers, they need that morning rush to help last nights dinner have a pleasent and uninteruupted journey as it makes its way down the large intestine and land in water with some remains of yesterday's Harpic. Inhale. Exhale. Spalsh.

Another ritual that comes to mind is called 'Cigi and Chai.' This one grosses me out. Anything we put into our body should not be in the same room as the things that come out of our body. But like the non-smoker or smoker who can't do without the morning nicotine rush, caffeine is just as integral for a smooth sailing poop ride. Sometimes just a few sips do the trick. So the cig is put out in the chai with a faint hissing sound. The job is done and the evidence is left behind in the form of pungent stink. 

And today with new technology, new poop rituals are  born. The minute, in true crude Indian fashion " the pressure" builds, an iPad makes its way in the bathroom. With every angry bird that flies across the screen, it is accompanied with a splash.

Oh, but the funniest ritual of all, and I don't know if I mean ha-ha funny, is the one that includes Facebook on the pot. Oh,you know who you are. You lose yourself in status updates, wedding pictures and bad foundation, hot boys and shake your head at girls with white bras under black shirts, beautiful people on exotic holidays and wonder when they hell they work, and almost like magic, even without you knowing, your stomach is flat and last nights shrimp dim-sum is long gone. 

So whatever your ritual may be, it is important that you follow it religiously every morning. Even if it means turning the snooze button off so you don't lose those precious fifteen minutes. Because when you're at work or in a public place and doody calls, it can be a super shitty situation. 

That Time Of The Year

THAT TIME OF THE YEAR

With temperatures reaching unbelievable highs you will without a doubt hear “it feels like an oven or a sauna outside” and then you will also hear people give their two cents, or in this case, two paisa (I’d like to think that’s the equivalent) on global warming, “summers are getting hotter glaciers are melting and we are going to die… etc etc.”

In the summer time, people are angrier, traffic is even more impatient, and no one smiles as beads of sweat form on upper lips and other uncomfortable places. Thanks yous are replaced with snarls and snarls are replaced with growls that belong deep inside the jungle. It is an unhappy time, this Indian summer.

For a few of us lucky folk, we find solace in front of our coolers and ACS while ceiling fans gather dirt and muck. No one wants hot air blown on them in circular motions.

And you might as well forget about cold showers to wash away the heat that has entered each and every one of your pores because your shower will play funny tricks on you in the summer. Warm water will flow out of the hot water tap and boiling hot water will flow out of the one marked with a C for cold.

But while we talk of global warming and Mother Nature, heat waves and have heated arguments, children are out enjoying their summer day.

Scorching temperatures are defeated by water bottles carrying thanda paani or nimbu paani. A still day is tackled by running around in the parks and hosing each other with the maali's pipe. Hide and seek and Oonch neech ka papra don’t discriminate against the summer. In fact, children love the garmi more since it stays light out longer and they don’t need to layer up in multi-coloured hand me downs from the 80’s, pokey new turtle necks or daadi’s latest creation.

The truth is we should be more child-like. Let’s not allow sweaty armpits and BO get the better of us. Let’s try to focus on all the beautiful things that come with summer. The wind meandering through the leaves, the extra hours of sunshine, happy bird (not trying to do a cool Angry Bird reverse) calls, the nimbu paani, the brimming – with- juice mangoes, the sweeter than sweet litchis and perfectly chilled watermelons. (Oh and in case you OD on summer fruit you can always turn to Cola bar and Limchu that are just as refreshing if you can excuse the artificial colouring dripping onto your khaki pants or floral cotton skirt.)

So, now go find the shadiest spot in your garden or balcony, tune into the laughter coming from the parks near by, fill your bowl with Mother Dairy's vanilla ice-cream. And then then in between mouthfuls I guarantee that you’ll stop bitching about Mother Nature’s time of the year.