My Best Shit. Ever!

The absence of fresh material on this blog has led certain people to spring rumors of my untimely demise. These, I assure you with full confidence, have not a modicum of veracity in them. At about 5.50 this morning though, I certainly wished I were indeed dead. Why? I shall explain.

I'm currently on holiday -- which may be noted as the reason for my not writing anything -- in Mangalore. I spent the past week in Bangalore and, along with my cousins, traveled to Mangalore from there last night by the overnight bus.

Now, I'm not a very good bus traveler at the best of times. Yesterday, there was pork for lunch [and dinner] -- which is one of my weaknesses -- and I think I over-indulged myself. Suffice it to say, that it didn't go down very well with my stomach and by about 5.00 this morning, I was awake in the bus with my tummy threatening to walk out on me. I can think of various bad situations to be in, but this has to be one of the worst. I'm on a bus with no washrooms, in the middle of nowhere, and I have to go! Badly!

For about an hour I tried everything I could. I tried to sleep. I tried various positions and postures. I tried staring out the window at the darkness. I even tried making love to Brittany Murphy in my mind to distract myself. Nothing worked. I still had to go. In fact, things got even worse. My bladder decided that all the tossing and turning wasn't in its best interests and joined in the mutiny against me. Now I not only needed to shit, I also had to pee just as bad. Mangalore was at least another good hour away. Possibly even more than that. I knew I couldn't hold fort that long. Something had to give.

With no other option in sight, I stood up and shook awake my cousin sitting next to me.

"Where's the toilet paper?" I fairly yelled into her ear, almost waking up the other passengers.

She rummaged through her bag. "Here."

I grabbed it and ran for the driver's cabin. I opened the door and was met by the blank face of the guy who sits with the driver -- the conductor, if you may.

"Stop the bus. I need to go to the washroom." I spoke in Hindi.

He mumbled something back at me in Kannada and stared back expressionless. I thrust the toilet paper under his face. I would have told him, "Dude, I need to shit real badly, and unless you stop this fucking bus I'm going to do it right here in the middle of your bloody cabin!", but I doubt he would have gotten even a word of it. Moreover, I was in no position to let out a sentence of that length without risking dirtying my pants.

Fortunately for me, the man got the picture. Unfortunately for me, he reached into his pocket and said, "Tablets?"

"No. I don't want any tablets. I need to go!" I screamed. I was beyond the stage where medication could help and the ball had long since passed my stomach and intestines and was now well in the end zone.

He asked the driver to stop the bus at the next bend in the road. I jumped out and ran behind some rocks. Dawn had just broken and the jungle was quite beautiful at that time. I cared nothing for it.

"Man can know no greater joy," someone once said, "than the sudden cessation of severe pain." I'm sure he was right. But I'll tell you what -- the sudden cessation of severe pressure on the insides of your rectal passage due to the expulsion of waste matter must definitely rank right up there too.

I did my job and strolled back to the bus. The conductor threw me a rather annoyed look, which was well matched by those given to me by my fellow passengers. The bus was already late and they could do without stoppages for waste disposal of this sort. Only my cousin gave me a bottle of hand sanitizer instead of the killer look.

You may laugh when you read this story -- I haven't heard the last of it from my cousins all day! But I assure you it's all true. And when in the middle of it, it didn't seem the slightest bit funny. When you have to go, you just HAVE TO GO!