Ewww! What an awful sight
I came across this morning:
Ambling along the beach by the bay,
At dawn, or a little thereafter,
Fishing boats bobbing about, gaily festooned,
Clouds messily scattered across the sky,
Promising mid-morning rain perhaps,
Seagulls boldly defying international borders,
Crossing the coast without a care,
And flying far towards distant waters,
Into regions no country dares claim to own
(In doing so thus wordlessly proclaiming
That it’s the Maker of all who is
Sole Owner of everything there is,
No matter what humans might think to the contrary).
Just then, my eyes fell upon a man
Traipsing down towards the sea,
Purpose-driven and in a hurry,
With some great target in mind, it seemed,
Boasting an exaggeratedly masculine swagger,
Displaying the ‘Couldn’t care a damn what others think’ attitude
That you surely noticed if you’ve seen catwalk prancing
In those inane fashion shows enough on TV.
Of course, I knew what he intended,
No delectable sight, I‘ll have to agree,
Yet, my curiosity impelled me to keenly observe,
As he went about, with one-pointed attention,
Engaging in his early morning ‘business’.
Having located a spot he deemed appropriate
On the sand, some yards from the sea,
All out in the open, in full public view,
He yanked up his skirt in a jiffy,
Then, squatting on his haunches,
His buttocks on full display,
He let out a loud fart, this being followed
By a long trail of yellow-brown shit.
It took some time for his bowels to empty
(I should know, observing it from closeby).
The shit slowly began to descend.
It took a while for it all to land,
And when it did, it curled up,
Like bits of fudge on the sand.
Ugh—ooo—eeks—aiii—yuck!
Fart-shit-fart-shit, on and on he went,
Till finally the process gave over,
A smile dancing on his face indicating
The accomplishment of this major task.
Then, bouncing up on his toes,
He waddled up towards the sea,
As if celebrating some glorious victory.
And, when a wave came rushing in,
He squatted down quickly once more,
Hurriedly scooping water in his hand
And giving his buttocks a hurried wash
(Though, I must say, since I did notice,
This task wasn’t done at all satisfactorily).
Then, letting down his skirt once more,
He turned around, back to the shore,
Leaving the castle of shit he had just built—
A little yellowish-brown pyramid—
Behind there, right on the beach,
Not caring to wash it off or conceal it,
As if bequeathing some valuable legacy
For the rest of mankind or to posterity.
Later on, I went on to discover,
This man wasn’t some exception.
He followed a popular custom, it appears,
Some ancient practice, it would seem.
And so, every day you'll spot to your horror,
If you manage to arrive there early enough,
Long rows of men, young, middle-aged and old,
Lifting their skirts and then baring their bums,
Emptying their bowels, as if collectively engaged
In some really shitty beach party (pun intended).
They couldn’t care less about the mess they create,
Try telling them the beach is God' or public property,
And not their own to do just as they please,
You’ll be lucky if you’ll be let off
With just a volley of vile abuse.
And so, if you aren’t very mindful on
Your morning walks on that beach,
You might easily step ankle-deep
Into a pile of freshly-delivered shit.
May this never happen to you,
But suppose it actually does,
Don't say I didn’t forewarn you.
*
You might well want to know
What it was that drove me
To suffer that shitty sight.
Well, that I really can’t fully explain,
Am too embarrassed to do so,
Or really don't fully know why.
But this I can definitely assure you:
It turned out to be a phenomenon most noteworthy,
Interesting anthropologically and metaphysically:
After all, if shit, like all forms of matter,
Is simply only energy congealed,
(E=mc2, as Einstein said, in neat summary),
Then truly I didn’t see anything unseemly—
It was all, to be precise, simply energy,
Congealed in a particular material garb,
Yellow/brown, sticky and smelly.
The man’s body, from whence it came,
Also being matter, was energy likewise,
As was the sand, on which it was deposited,
And of course, also the great sea as well,
Into which it finally flowed and merged.
The whole thing was, then,
One could very simply say,
Just a movement of energy.
It was as trite as this, you might now realize,
If you think of it thus, very analytically.
But you might say, “Even so, it was really disgusting
To shit thus”, and here I might very well agree,
But then think of all the Earth’s bounties
Plundered for enabling people to shit
In more a seemingly ‘civilized’ manner,
To manufacture in the tens of millions
Things like taps, basins and big pipes,
WCs, underground tanks and sewers,
Toilet paper, sprays and sweet-smelling soap.
Since the man I observed and his tribe
Have no use for such contraptions
To assist them to shit every day,
Nor the money to afford them,
In that sense at least how much more
Eco-friendly, and thus ‘civilized’ in a way,
They can be said to be than you and me!
There’s something else I also discovered:
Shit’s a big equalizer, a grand social leveller.
Everyone shits, and everyone’s shit stinks:
Be they king or knave, potentate or pauper,
Black, white, yellow or brown,
Rich, middle-class or poor,
Male, female or neither,
Of this religion, country and ethnicity.
Knowing this is a great way, I think,
To realize the basic underlying oneness
Of the whole of humanity.
And then the thought can remind us
That the bodies we call ‘ours’ that we carry
From our birth to, finally, our death,
With such great and tender care—
No matter how much we beautify and adorn them
Are only a bag of shit as it were, in a sense,
(Besides of things like bones, blood and bile).
Truly humbling it must be
To arrive at this realization,
Which certainly can do us good
To help us detach from the body,
Which they say is a must
If we want to realize who
We truly are.
How instructive it is to know in this way
Our basic sameness and our true reality!
And so, when pride or hate threatens to take over,
Remembering that no matter how big,
'High' and 'mighty', 'exalted' or 'holy',
We think we or someone else is,
All of us shit, and everyone’s shit stinks,
Can bring us back to our senses
Or even down to our knees,
Reminding us of our basic actuality.
When confronted with people who
Want to be regarded or known
At least a degree or more precious
Than the rest of all that be,
As especially powerful, beautiful or famous,
Or some despotic demagogue or charlatan,
Claiming to be God’s favourite, His latest emissary,
Or, worse still, even God Himself in human garb,
And on that basis lord it over others,
One quick thought is enough
To topple them from the pedestals
That their deluded admirers have set them upon:
Let them imagine them on their haunches
Baring their buttocks, farting and shitting:
That’s likely enough, I can assure you,
To make people they’ve bewitched understand
That they definitely aren't anything as special
As they want others to think them to be.
Simply imagine them shitting can easily reminds us
Of the falsity of their pretended supremacy.
*
If and when I get to meet our Maker,
I might like to ask Him thus:
“Lord, why did You make us in such a way,
That we simply have to shit,
And that, too, in a position seemingly most inelegant?
Also, Lord, why’s it that shit’s so smelly?
I’d love to know the secret thereof,
Please, God, tell me, since only You know.
Could You not have devised things somewhat differently,
So that we didn’t have to squat and shit,
Or if You insisted that we must,
Our shit wouldn’t stink,
Or better still, if it smelt
Like a rose or jasmine in bloom?”
The Lord might then answer
Something on the following lines:
“All sentient beings that I've fashioned
I've crafted in such a way
That shit they definitely have to,
In order to live and to thrive.
It isn't just men who must shit thus,
But animals, birds and insects as well,
And plants and trees, in addition,
Each in their own unique way.
I wanted you humans all to shit,
And for everyone’s shit to really stink,
In order to remind you daily
Of the truth of the body you inhabit,
So that You don’t give it
More attention than it deserves,
Knowing it to be a bag of shit (plus some more),
And then coming to the understanding
That you aren’t the body as you think you are
But the soul, a part of Me, Myself.
Stinky shit was also intended to humble man,
To puncture his ego when it makes
Him think he’s greater than he truly is.
Knowing that no matter how big a person
Might assume himself to be,
They, like every other person, shits,
And that their shit, too, stinks,
Can also enable one to know them
To be as just like everyone else at root,
And in this way, to see through the falsity
Of the odious distinctions
That foolish humans—all shitters alike—
Constantly want to make
Among and between themselves.
I made things this way also
So that You might easily know
Your fundamental equality,
The oneness that unites you,
Emerging from two basic facts:
That no matter what their station or stature,
All human beings shit, and all human shit stinks.
And so, just as you sometimes declare,
In some rare moment of profundity,
To underscore humankind’s oneness,
That 'Everyone’s blood is red',
You can also announce for the same reason thus:
'Everyone shits, and everyone’s shit stinks',
In this way, informing yourselves
(For you do need to be so reminded thus,
Every once in a while)
That no matter how different you humans
Might seem among yourselves,
Be it in terms of beauty, power or fame,
Religion, nationality or sexuality
Gender, race or skin colour,
Or whatever else the case might be,
At a very basic level, you’re all really one,
Equal and just the same,
For all of you shit,
And everyone’s shit really stinks!”
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