On Shit

Yes yes, you read the title correctly, and it isn’t a typo either. It does, in fact, say ‘on shit’ and not ‘oh shit’, because this post is neither a result of momentary fear nor an ode. It’s more of…a pondering, you might say, on the lovely topic of shit. So for those queasy readers, I’d suggest stopping here.

How did I come about this topic? Well, it really comes down to a conversation with a cousin of mine last night, an extremely understanding one who called me to check up on his poor sister who had been having four days of constant and extreme diarrhoea. When he got time between his maniacal laughter, he asked me why I had stopped blogging, and I told him that I didn’t have anything to blog about. His response: “blog about shit”. And being the oh-so-ever obedient person that I am, I decided to follow his suggestion after he assured me that he for one would definitely want to read this post. And so we reach here.

Let’s begin with the philosophy of shit. No, I don’t mean a ponderous curiosity on “what is shit?” If you do want to begin there, Wikipedia has an extremely detailed and explicit article answering that question, along with several others. Neither do I wish to adopt a Descartes-like stance and blurt statements like “I shit, therefore I am.” Though it might actually be true, but four days of doing only that might definitely make you question the reason of your existence rather than validate it.

But really, the question I am more interested is – why does the subject of shit make us so squeamish? Dogs shit all over the place without a care for who is looking. Fine, so for humans it’s a private act, but why is it such a taboo subject? We all do it [revert to the Descartes-inspired-phrase above]. How come we can talk about bloody gory murders and whatnot but not about shit? How come every time one of my little kids would run up to me asking permission to go to the toilet for this, I would cringe thinking “too much information.” On a side note, I have often wondered what is the socially respectable way of saying shit? Take a dump? Crap? Do number 2 [I really want to know who came up with this one]? Excrete faeces?

See, the reason I find this topic quite fascinating is that for all the squeamishness surrounding it, I have bonded with a lot of friends over this subject. Whether it’s empathizing with each other over “loosies” or discussing with utmost reverence the importance of shit in our lives, and with even more reverence debating the “toilet paper versus mugga” issue – it’s all been done. And what I recall from all those conversations is not flinching and awkwardness, but rather, a sense of comfort that automatically dumps itself on you when you know you can have such conversations. It’s like crossing a barrier – a rather shitty one.

As much as I would love to go on about the subject, I am afraid diarrhoea calls, and I must go validate my existence, again.

May the force be with you [not applicable to those having loose motions].