the loo snippets!!!

Answering nature's call is an inevitable part of the daily living of all living organisms. And since I belong to the human race I shall stick to them as the subject and since I am attempting to give a humorous side of it, I shall be subjecting myself to being a subject of my "Loo Snippets". Let me hasten here to tell anyone who should be reading this that there will be nothing vulgar or unpleasing about anything that I might have to share. Its just the way it is. By subjecting myself to being a subject, rest assured that I shall not even put myself in ignominy by describing anything of a personal nature. I shall just be sharing the experiences that I have come to experience every time that I have had to hunt for a bathroom.

Being in a job that for the time being has travelling a part of its profile is a bit difficult. Having to travel to places, which in some cases have been of a rural outreach, although very satisfying and interesting, has its shortcomings. And being a woman and travelling in a predominantly chauvinistic state of Haryana has been quite an ordeal. But that calls for another tale at another time. This post is devoted to the state of the loos available for women.... I say women, because it is beyond the requirement of proof that for most men, the need for four walls and some space for doing the needful is not required. For women, obviously, the same can not be applied to unless there is dense foliage and the only live presence are the trees and birds. Nevertheless, on being apprised that I have to undertake a trip to the interiors of Jat land, I do the very basic thing at first....stop drinking water!!!! At the cost of almost parched and scorched throat I proceed towards my destination. While the bottle of water beckons me very often, I hold my own stand and reach my destination which usually is a bank branch in a not so greatly developed part of a town. And even if the town is well developed, and the interiors of the banks looks a relieving modernistic structure, one would be mistaken in thinking that the loos are given the same importance. I wonder when most of these buildings are constructed, whether the contractor had a personal grouse against bathrooms due to which most of these private spaces have just about enough room to enter in a reverse gear and back out again.


Needless to say, when you are representing the Central Bank and you go to one of the numerous banks, you are inevitably offered liquid diet at every hour. And god help you, if you have to spend an entire day in the bank. I remember a particular ordeal where I landed fresh faced and enthusiastic at a branch to conduct some checking. It had been a pleasant day and I had the lovely opportunity to go to a nearby village which had the most amazing location (but all those visits will be chronicled some other day). I came back to the bank branch where I was greeted with much respect and Oh-My-Goodness- a whole bottle of cold drink!!!! Oh Dear!!! I made emphatic denials and opposition to aerated drinks. Since I had never come across the cold drink Slice in the my encounters I made the fervent excuse by pleading that I am an avid drinker of Slice...and lo and behold!!! I could have bit my tongue, for the very next thing that I am brought is a cold just-out-of-the-cooler bottle of Slice..... O Dear...I could feel the bottle mocking me and my gall bladder showing signs of protest. But I figured that as I had not partaken of any water I will be able to control whatever needs to be controlled. So with much trepidation I sipped on the slice with the manager egging me on almost as if it were a challenge. Luck was not on my side, I realised when I had an absolute urge to answer nature's relentless call. So with much hesitancy, I asked about the availability of a bathroom...and thankfully I was guided to one with ample sized proportions. I almost felt as if I was on the edge of heaven....I stepped in gratefully to discover it was completely roofless..... OH DEAR!!! And the walls might have been a good six and half feet so that should give me encouragement I thought. But it is not a comforting thought when u have half a dozen men outside with an average height of six feet. As it is, one has to suffer the acute awkwardness of being a young woman in a crowd of rustic men... I wondered about the many reasons for the rooflessness and I think I got my answer when I relieved myself...the rooflessness helped hapless women like me, who could not control their bladder a chance to send a prayer heavenward without the obstruction of a roof, so that one is in direct commune with the Almighty... O lord of the endless blue sky above...!!!Please let me pee in peace!!!


Anyway, that ordeal passed through without any more incidents... and I came back fully refreshed ... I mean fully relieved and took the remaining bottle of slice with a lot of passion. The rest of the time proceeded without me having to go through the entire awkward ritual of going to the bathroom and gazing up at the sky.

In yet another incident I was on my way to a village called Dayalpur in Faridbabad, Haryana. The very industrial look appearance of Faridabad could have fooled me into believing that there were no villages left. But many a turns and bumps later I arrived at the so called village of Dayalpur to interact with members of SHG. I was thankful that I was being accompanied by another female colleague. And since we were interacting with women of SHGs, I felt a dawning of comfort that asking for loos should be no problem now at least. So, with a relatively freer mind I went about my task for interviewing the SHG members and eating and drinking all the local delicacies made by them. I chose the "shubh mahurat" of just before departure of asking the direction to the loo... much to my consternation, the actual loo was a bit far off or something like that and I was asked to use, what I came to realise was the water storage place/small bathing area. I stepped in cautiously behind the curtain and as my hand groped around for the door I realised much to my horror that there was no door!!! Great!!! First roofless and now doorless!!! The curtain that was the makeshift door ended three inches above the floor with jagged ends....!!! I mustered up courage and kept an eye on the curtain and concluded my business while watching the ragged ends of the curtain do a seductive dance with the wisps of winds that were blowing... strangely enough the old song of Asha Parekh crept into my head.... "Parde mein rehne do...parda na uthao.....parda jo uth gaya to..." (SHUDDER!!!) I don't want to think of that situation....

There have been other times when I have faced loos which probably, in its previous birth must have been a chamber designed for solitary confinement or designed by a chappie who underwent one... a small room in which a person of ample proportions would have to probably suck in his breath to turn around gingerly and not touch any of the grimy walls... I have had the opportunity to live in hostels which have had such toilets which are devoid of any human compassion or basic design sense... and it amazes me how some people have all the time in the world to doodle on the walls and doors... so in order to escape the knowledge of confining walls of such loos, one can try and amuse oneself reading the various literary thoughts of other people on the walls.... all this, mind you, when one has to concentrate on getting inside the small toilet in the reverse gear, assume whatever position required to answer nature's call and then make sure (at least in the case of females) that the voluminous garments do not touch the filthy walls or heaven's forbid, manage to break the dwelling of spiders!!! And after all this concentration, one faces the challenge of a broken faucet, flush or no water in the pipes....

I personally feel that nothing can beat the adventures one has when one has to use the conveniences in a flight or train journey. Having travelled in both enough number of times, each time has left me a bit more knowledgeable than the last as to how to be be more effective in handling such bathrooms. While the train loos are all about balance and precision, the flight loos are all about alertness and a good comprehension of pictorial language. I must also add the one time I travelled to Europe recently, the loo experience has been satisfactory to the extent that in all the faucets and flush work and the public conveniences are well maintained. The biggest problem that most Indians face, which leaves many who have lived abroad for most part incredulous, is our apprehension of the toilet paper!!! I think among all the great unresolved philosophical debates of the world such as whether the chicken came before or the egg... the dispute between whether toilet paper or water is better will continue to remain unresolved.....

In conclusion, if none of you have found any of the above amusing or feel that it is all a tad bit exaggerated, then I leave you with the following contents of a mail that I received which I am sure at least some womenfolk can identify with and will most leave definitely leave the rest with a smile which my above experiences may not have been able to extract... so here goes...

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance." In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance." To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get." By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this." As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?" This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!
This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately!

For Granted

We take the our shadows for granted. Day in and day out we see our shadows...the day we don't is the day we are no longer in this world and our body lies prostrate. Most of us leave it to another day to be better daughters, sons, wives, husbands sisters, brothers . Not that today we are not. But its okay if I am angry at someone today or that I have been nasty to someone today, because I still have tomorrow to make it all go away. "Tomorrow". I remember laughing at how corny the movie, kal ho na ho was..... but what if that is what happens ...what if I don't have tomorrow? If Lord Yama was to come down and tell me that I had but one more day to live.... (I am sure I could not tempt him Munch or Five Star or perk or whatever that chocolate was, that Priety Zinta used in an ad) where do I start to make up for all the things that I took for granted? Do I tell my parents that I love them which I don't do at all because...well, they know I guess... and that I wished that I had been a better daughter? (They say I am a good daughter). Do I call my brother and tell him that for all my grouse against him, he is really a sweetheart and that I love him? (He will think that I am crazy). Do I play my Veena one last time? Do I try and make right all my wrongs? Do I let go of my ghosts that have been a legacy of my past or confront them? Which friend of mine should I call and thank for being a part of my lows and highs...for being there when I was a nice human being and a not so nice human being? Do I dance one last time? Do I call up one special person and talk till the wee hours of morning? I think I am just beginning to realise the extent of my taking people, feelings, emotions, love for granted. And vice versa. I think I need to acknowledge that I and all of me has also been taken for granted.

My grandmother....now detected with colon cancer...do I have time with her to make up for all the things that I did in part measure? I remember a time before I grew up where I used to frolic with my ammuma's ample tummy. She taught me all the prayers that I still faithfully recite every night before I sleep. Somewhere along the way, I grew up, I grew up to be I think quite an impatient person not easily being able to understand differences coming up on account of generation gap and age. And now when I think I have the maturity to accept the inevitable, do I have the time to make up for all that I did not do? Do we all have those regrets of not doing something well in time....I don't mean not submitting a proposal or something related to work. Have we stopped saying I miss you, I love you, I cherish you because there is a tomorrow and that we will see each other another day, or on any other day the perfect opportunity will present itself for us to say and feel and do...? Do I have time to make amends? To whom all should I reach out to?

To do justice to me, I think I have been a more than a decent human being who has made a lot of mistakes...maybe more than the my peers whom I currently know. But when will I make amends to myself? All this feeling of taking for granted is not just applicable for me towards others. But also, I have taken me for granted. I have allowed others to take me for granted. Where do I start to make all wrongs right? Is there time? Some wrongs can never be righted and that's good because one needs a landmark or a milestone to look at and remember the time when one was all that one should not have been.

I am certain that there are none who have not had regrets for not being there when one was required and when one could have made it and also when one could not make it, but one wanted to. But I am also certain that most of us know the value of relations... of love.... of being there...the only problem is that sometimes it becomes too late or it just becomes hopeless. We rue ourselves for taking things for granted. But then we need to or at least I think I need to also realise that I have to look at those times when I have been there, when I have not let people down.

It's not over yet. I can still reach out. But it can not be tomorrow. I need to use my scented candles today, even if I am alone, for what if I am not there tomorrow? I need to find a place to start. Till then, I hope I can be there for people who need me. and that I hope I have been there. That can only be said by people who read this.