The recalcitrant taps
I must admit that I hate public urinals, not to speak of the lavatories in India. They announce their presence by their offensive odour yards away, many peeing right outside such facilities, because of the filthy indoors and also to save on the minimal charges levied.
There are Sulabh Sauchalayas run, but the maintenance is far from satisfactory in most places. I pay a Swatchh Bharat cess for cleanliness but never dared to question the use of any portion of such tax collected by the government on WCs.
Though I am of average height, closing on six-feet, I often critically balance over my heels to reach the urinal pot. An angry foreigner once wondered, ‘while on the job,’ why Indians considered that they could be taller than the Dutch and built the urinals such high. It’s a nightmare to step into any toilets or those mediocre eateries on the Indian highways. Trees are an option, but suffering from ophidiophobia, fear of snakes, I tend to avoid trees and bushes and pitifully suffer.
In contrast, the Chinese public conveniences are free for use all over, and most are open all the 24 hours. They are spic and span sans any smell, as we would see in our best star hotels.
There’s one dissenting factor though! I also suffer from an Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, frequently washing my hands for fear of germs or dirt. To save water from wastage, most taps these days are fitted with a sensor, which gets activated for the water to flow once hands are placed below. There emanates a game that I hate playing but is thrust on me by forces beyond my control. I try putting my hand below the tap, on its various sides, a bit high, a bit lower, tap it affectionately and even gesticulate in desperation or annoyance, all in vain, to a stoic and unresponsive government-like tap.
It behaves much like my wife, whenever I beckon her while she is in deep engagement with those abundant silly vernacular TV serials, women fully bejewelled, adorning expensive silk sarees, dotting large bindis and thick eye-liners. I yield and do the errand myself, conceding a battle never fought. Similarly, here too I move over to the next tap, only to see another man walking in, in no way looking smarter than me, and the tap yields readily and water flows in force, much to my chagrin.
Could the taps be Pakistan make?
Enjoy life and explore fun all around.
Sampath Kumar
Intrépide voix
