THE INITIATION

TRIVIALITIES
It’s the execution of routine small small things that weigh heavily on your psyche here. For eg. The simple art of shitting becomes a herculean task if you are going to skip the tissues and opt for wet moping.Since the toilet is fully carpeted, fit for sleeping, the basics works out to keep the carpet from any drop of water and no.2 to keep the water temp mild warm to protect your lovely ass.There are infact two taps letting out very hot and very cold water. The skill lies in adjusting the two taps that saps your energy and time and by the time you adjust the temp you would have forgotten what you are supposed to do, I mean shitting.The anxiety is overwhelming and the shit travels northwards.
The fear factor comes to play once you enter the sacred place. The ass goes bersek at the thought of coming to contact with a freezing porcelane surface.Once the task is accomplished,you have to tackle the two taps alternatively and get a thin stream of optimally heated water and the suitable mixture is then fed in to a plastic mug procured from shyam after much persuasion ranging to threat[cruelty to the aged and infirm etc etc].The crucial matter you will have to consider now is not a’ drop’ on the carpet. After filling the mug,see that you empty a little fluid for easy maneuverability. The next step is going to test your skills,transferring the filled mug with your right hand from the taps to just above your ass in a smooth arc and slowly emptying it, with the left hand doing its job methodically,and the wet mopping should be over before the mug empties.If not you will have to redo the whole process of reheating and filling.Now ensure that there is no film of water over your ass,or else it would freeze to a solid film,making you unable to rise at all.So beware you won’t be able to concentrate on the London times sheet in your hand.
I will have some nice tips for you on how to take a bath later.

THE EAGLE HAS LANDED

Kannan has at last managed to cross the borders and land in the white man’s abode,the land of the East India Co,where the sun never sets or rises. Landed 2 days back ,precisely on march 17th 2012 when the sani crosses vyazhan.The pilot announced ‘ dark sky,temp around 7 degrees’ after 11 hrs of monotonous flight. The emissaries send earlier received us warmly at Heathrow,and the immigration formalities over in a jiffy.it was the blistering cold and the dull darkening skies that welcomed us to London.
My earlier expectations of a colourful London turned black and white. I had always thought ‘ COLD’ to be absence of heat and now only I know it to be a three dimentional entity, full of life,anger,sadistic and really hostile to guests from far off lands.It has this dangerous habit of penetrating through my thick dermis to the level of my athman and the mind is gripped by a vague sort of Fear swirling all around making me dive indoors.No layers of woolen or cotton is a barrier.
Another discerning aspect is the absence of noise,the ‘shor’ is missing over here.Every thing is silent and lifeless like a bandh day over there.Not even a dog barks,leave alone the blaring of horns, the sweet roar of the autos or two wheelers.Not a pedestrian in sight,even the infants don’t cry. I really miss the teaming, emotionful masses of our sweet land. People are polite to the level of contempt and whiteness is sickening.Not even the sun is emotional here.It just doles out a mediocre light with out any heat and hide behinds clouds most of the the time. Now I know why the Europeans invaded us,not for our spices or silk but they were purely after our SUN in its pristine GLORY.
The traffic is more sinister,no blaring of horns,no overtakings,no shoutings,just a lifeless smooth motion, making me run amok. I don’t know whether these people fart at all.