In a land, rich, vibrant and diverse,
Have you noticed an ammoniacal aroma perverse ?
And tried to trace it with your nose,
Whiffing and squinting, to see how far it goes,
Only to find a splattered parapet wall,
Or a soiled tree trunk enveloped in that misty aerosol.
The fragrant remains of the river that once ran,
Emanating from the insides of the proud Indian man,
For he, you see, couldn’t be gladder,
To let go of the reins, and relieve his bladder,
The mantra being, to hydrate, librate and liberate,
And never shy away, from an opportunity to publically urinate.
Is it the love for living au naturel, and pooh-poohing the lavatory ?
Taking a leak and thence marking his territory,
Or is it likely a Mard thing ?
And a display of manhood to the traffic, makes his heart sing.
Is the Indian man on a philanthropic mission ?
Cleaning the city, without inhibition,
Helping out, in the time of water scarcity,
With a jugaad to water the plants, witty,
And shoo away the notoriety under the flyover,
With the superpower of his pee pee spillover.
Perhaps it is a medical condition,
And a weak bladder is my suspicion,
So the sphincteric attrition,
Forces the open micturition,
Or it is an olfactory bulb dysfunction ?
And the mard can’t tinkle and smell in conjunction,
So he’s oblivious to its odour, is the claim,
And you can’t put him to blame and shame.
Should we put up a pee resistant wall ?
That would, the incoming jet, stall,
Deflect it into a urinary waterfall,
And douse its human into a squall.
Or in the potential susu targets, instill,
A freezing agent, to cool the stream into a chill,
Ice it all the way up, along its course,
And glaciate and benumb the source.
Maybe we should create a distraction,
Click snapshots of these men in action,
Paste them on the very walls they wet,
And exhibit their manhood, lest they forget.
Or aggarbatis with a urinary bouquet, make,
Stuff them under their noses, for them a whiff to take,
A remembrance of what they splash the city with,
And shock and awe the Bhartiya mard monolith.
All hail the peeing Indian man,
It takes spunk to do what he can,
No sidelong glance or a jeering jibe,
Could lessen the zeal of his tribe,
Neither an angry lady’s frown,
Nor an outcry for modesty, would put him down,
For the whole world is his toilet,
And no behest or a public convenience can spoil it.
* susu : Hindi slang for urine; * mard : man; * agarbattis : incense sticks