Know God! Use God! Be God!

Different Mornings. Sometimes it's easy for us to forget in a global world, that we aren't all the same. That in fact, in some ways we are dramatically and utterly different. Yes, some will nod their heads arguing, that ‘they' are infinitely superior. ‘No' that's not what we mean. We mean different. How different can be seen, in the following two stories contributed by U Abraham, a renowned nutritionist…

Tuesday is Potty Day!

Our posting in Harare was about the best. A city very like Bangalore with its bougainvillea and its jacaranda and its gulmohars. But the best were the people…of all kinds and from all places. The African, the European, the Indian… we were a happy mixture.

4 year old Arvind's best friend was Jenny from Scandinavia. They shared the school, they shared their toys and they shared their time. All except Tuesdays!!! That was ‘potty ‘day for Jenny.

Arvind, a natural indian with his regular habits could never understand why Tuesdays was ‘ no visiting ‘ day to Jenny's. She is strange on Tuesdays he said..what was this fuss about ‘potty'?!?! Was this different to his regular morning ‘non fussy' potty?!?!

A sick potty story…

Narayanan was sick in hospital in London's famous… An accident had left him a paraplegic. The doctors were the best but his recovery was slow if not none at all. But Narayanan a natural cheery person and the nurses love this man. He ate what they gave him and he do what the asked him to…an ideal patient.

Yet his ‘bowel movements' caused him concern... He could do it only once in 3 days. He was concerned. But the doctors and nurses weren't concerned. Why the fuss? Once in 3 days to them was normal. But Narayanan, a good Indian, had to have it once a day. He pleaded with the doctors and with his nurses to get him going ‘regularly' again, and give him that ‘purgative' but it was of no avail.

Till his good friend visiting him from India suggested that he ask for rice in is diet!! And lo and behold Narayana was on the right track… it happened everyday again! The good doctors taking care of him were happy, cause he was happy… and the ward was cheerful again… it was the rice diet that cheered him they said.

Digesting... Now for most Indians going to the loo everyday in the morning is a sacrosanct must. Not being able to do so clearly indicates an uncomfortable problem.

Now as healers, or global citizens, it's important to remember our great commonality, but it is equally important to be aware of the differences that exist, in something as basic as loo habits.

Some who have heard this story have been horrified by it. And it does have a great effect of rubbing off some of the post-colonial inferiority many Indians feel…For many Indians the most painful thing of going abroad is having to use tissue paper. To many it simply, doesn't feel clean.

Now, at Creator's Child only half of our family is Indian, others come from all across the world. The purpose of sharing this story is not engender a reverse colonialism, but to look at the differences, and to therefore get a deeper understanding of ourselves…whether we are Indian, French, Iranian or Canadian. To point out that equally some of our habits and obsessions are as ‘strange' to ‘them'. This following story reveals just how absurd some in India have taken the morning obsession with good bowel movement…

Morning Crap Xtreme: No Potty after Eight!

This father was built along the lines of old style patriarchs. What he said was the law. And God help you if you disobeyed. Now like many of us Indians he too believed that regular bowel movement everyday is a must. Again like many Indians, he believed it had to be in the morning. In fact, bowel movement except in the morning was to be frowned on… And in his household forbidden. So in his home no one could do a big job after 8.00 in the morning. And what if you had to go? Too bad. Just hold on. And what if you had diarrhea? Too bad. Only babies crapped as and when they wished. Would you like to wear a nappy? Now just imagine growing up in such a household. Just imagine the enormous self control. And fear.

Digesting... Now the Tuesday's Potty Day, is a great conversation piece, and once when I was retelling this, somebody brought up the fact of how clean ‘we' are, and perhaps this is the reason, Westerners should be kept out of Indian temples…and how ‘cleanliness leads to… Now sometimes we {many Indians and many across the world} take the ‘Cleanliness equals Godliness' adage too seriously.

Shit Within: Outer Dirt? Inner Dirt? What's worse?

In Cambridge Layout we had one of those ultrafastidious upper caste ladies, who hated the very idea of dogs walking the street. In fact, according to her if a dog came her side of the road she had to have a bath.

Now in her mind she believed herself to be clean. Possibly a pure soul. But was she really? Aura eyes revealed that in fact the reason she practised the purity stuff so obsessively was because she was so incredibly filthy inside. Her aura was crawling with vermin.

Now are we saying that all clean people are dirty inside? No. But the obsession with cleanliness reveals the hideous inside.

The Fire Bath…

In the mid 80's, while doing MA Eco at D'school, I was in a hostel called Jubilee Hall. This was a place where 150 out of the 200 were trying for the IAS. And every year many of our finest emerged from this hostel. It was a good hostel, big, rooms, decent grub, and we even had piping hot water in the morning. Come winter, hot water withstanding, not unnaturally, the bath levels fell. From the ideal once a day. To a deplorable once a week, the notable once a month, and the record – hold your breath, ONCE IN 3 MONTHS! Now one of the title contenders for the no bath prize was a gangling brilliant student, who got a Rhodes scholarship and split after the first year. One day, a friend and me dropped in to his room, And there in broad daylight, he had a candle stuck on the floor, he was passing his feet over it. Er… what was he doing? He explained. The only trouble with not having a bath more than once a week, was that your feet stank. He had discovered an ingenious way of remedying this… The candle flame burned away the smell, and the dirt between the toes.

The last Bath of Freedom…

Again a college hostel story, this one from Stephen's. In its hostels, like most in India, there are corridors of rooms and separately, sets of common bathrooms and loos. One day I went over to a friend's room, out of it was coming streams of soapy water. I went in and there he was having a bath with a bucket. Why was he having a bath in his room and not in the loos? Well, he said, ‘I come from a business family. And once I leave college I'm finished. So I have to do stuff here.'

The Poetry of the Fart…

One of the few teachers whose name I remember, was an English master in Madras {now Chennai}, he was an inspiring teacher, who among other things used to write for The Hindu. One day, he brought to class a poem about farts a delightful coprophilic piece, that described farts, classified them, it was brilliant… It changed my notions on fART dramatically.

Gi-Go or Gi-Fo?

Infotech at one time had this adage ‘garbage in garbage out'. This simplistic process theory based as it is on linear logic is crappy. The truth is garbage in leads to fruits out. Those who want to stay healthy… need roughage.

The Pleasure of the Country Crap…

A friend considers the greatest pleasures of going to his ancestral village, is the pleasure of going out into the fields for a crap. “I feel…free”, he says.

We've been through many varieties of crap in this article... Starting with Crappy differences and then on to Inner Shit. Rural Crap. Filmy Craps. Healthy Crap. Pissy therapies. Economics & Environmentalism of of Crap. Poetic Farts. It's time to end with spiritual crap. In some cults, the followers eat had honcho's shit. We will not talk about that. In a famous story a tibetan master is said to have reached enlightenment hearing the sound of shit plopping. Since it's so famous we'll avoid that one too... So the last story we leave you with is closer home. Yet encompasses many things, the transcendent, the revulsion, man-animal attitude...


Q: Does God Shit?

A: Stupid Qustion!!? Blasphemous question!?!

Here's a channeled answer

Answer Absolute: "There is only I, and my being is a blessedness so there is no shit, no worlds, no you or I, there is only I, only joy."

Answer Relative:"Yes i do, there are portions of me so lost, so toxic to themselves that they require radical transformation. First there is a deliberate separation from me, from my magnificatory power. Given their deep self hate they begin to draw on their core energy burning it out with incredible rapidity. Their comes a point where the personality either seeks to be retrieved in which case they are reabsorbed. Much like the intestines absorb nutrients. Or they unbecome. This involves two steps. A kind of dark substance is formed. Intensely concentrated and negative. This is vital in the creation of many universes. The dark substance is transformed into a brilliant golden force, which is then transformed into a joyous black lake of possibility."

"Now many reading this will be afraid imagining that you will be destroyed for your evil. I laugh. Know that there is only one, only one child of the earth, who has ever, past, present future been unbecome. You, the worst among you do not generate that degree of negativity. You are innately good, innately God."

Answer Real: "Since none of you, not even the highest messengers i have sent, come from a zone above the big toe of my being, metaphorically speaking, you have no clue of what you are speaking off. You do not know your ego let alone your soul. So how can you dare to understand? However that you dare, makes me laugh, it pleases me."

"In fact, I ask blasphemous questions of me. But those who ask such know this, all who stand at the junction of paradoxes, of two mighty directions, need courage, for it is the quivalent of a mosquito between two hands."

Answer Methodology: "It took the equivalent of 44,000 translators, to transalate down my answer to you. Of the 44,000 only 12 have heard of human beings. You bet there are distortions."

"Why 44,000? Because that's practically, the very least number of energy entities required to translate a message from me, the source to you."

"There is another way without intermediaries. In this you offer yourself with lightning intensity, and just maybe you are swallowed by the source. Directly. However, the return of you as light to you as light in human form is always modulated by infinite steps."

Holy Crap: Shit on the Shoe & God's Gift to Mankind…

12 th April 09. Am taking Buffy for her morning walk. She's reveling in the smells. My mind's elsewhere. Meditating on walking, I step into another space. To my right foot is a dark tunnel leading to a deep space.

What are you I ask? “I AM EXISTENCE” is the reply.

Buffy crosses the road. And there finds the perfect spot to sit. When we move away, I discover I had stamped on some other dog's/ human shit hidden by the leaves. YUCK!

Then I remember a moment ago, beside my right foot, I had seen the void? How could I despise the shit? For after all isn't everything in each thing? But the feeling was still yuck.

After having scraped my foot a 100 times, while trying to rise above my revulsion and acknowledging God is in every atom, flowery or shitty… I am given a gift. I hear a deep hum, purr of cat mixed with a Bach symphony… It is the hum of atoms. I then make it a point to listen to the sound of the shit on my chappal… It makes a sound…”Cling, clong”.

Relating this to Celu, Buffy butts in and tells Celia, “Yes, I have heard that sound”.

“Is it the sound of atoms? “ I ask Buffy.

“I don't know what atoms are, but I have heard the sound that Tarun heard”.

O! Shit! Like a king-sized O!


Holy Crap: Tuesday is Potty Day!

Urine therapy… And the courage of a PM.

Practitioners swear by it. the rest chortle. An observation. Years ago, Morarji Desai kicked up a diplomatic storm when he admitted to be one of its adherents. Yuck. Do it, but don't boast about it. One remembers thinking. Now in retrospect you think, what courage. What amazing courage.


Buffy like other dogs is happiest when she has Su to smell. What does she get out of it. Scornfully she informed us that we wouldn't understand. Then went on tell us a hundred things about a dog who'd left his yellow signature. Then promptly she added her own comments. Splosh she went over it. A little like a message board.... Once i dared compare susu on the road with humans reading a book. She was horrified. It was blasphemy. How could i compare a language laced with pheromones, whispering blood secrets and sacred protein oleoresins with something as dead as book knowledge.

Breakfast Conversations @ the Home Village. My grandmom, Kerala's first woman maths graduate, lived deep in rural Kerala, a brilliantly capable lady, she ran a sizeable rubber estate on her own. In the process of overseeing things on an average she'd walk 15 km and so would have an appetite and at times could polish off 6 eggs. Or quarter dozen etthekyas. If there were her contemporaries come over for breakfast, the topic would often turn to the state of their bowels… how firm it was, etc., etc., That earthiness was always a shock for us her grandkids. Used to urban politesse.

Now we rarely talk about it. Ignore it when someone lets one off. But sometimes I guess we need to talk about things that are seemingly unworthy, low… coarse but so… vital and revealing.

And the Oscar in the great fART Category goes to... Fassbinder's Smelly One or Slum Dog?

As Celu often remarks, if an alien were to read our literature or see our movies he'd see us eating… but never crapping. That got me thinking and well increasingly it's coming out of the box. Tons of action movies milk the humour of someone terrified in a loo and guns blasting away outside. The first of the two most classic ‘crappy' scenes I've seen depicted… is from a Fassbinder movie. A con is being given a send off by his mates. So how make a big enough bang? A prisoner bends and lets off a mighty fart while another lights it with a cigarette lighter. The second is from slumdog millionaire where the protagonist drops into a pile of shit so he can meet his favourite star.

Big Shit… And trivia.

Now, crap while often not talked about… is big.

If you want to stand for Panchayat elections you need to have a proper toilet.

In an increasingly urbanised world, waste management's a big problem. There's a conservation move that's attempting to create toilets that separate pee from crap. The latter's a good fertilizer. The former harder on the environment but useful as a pesticide. It's mandatory in parts of Europe, for men to piddle sitting down. {A news report}

A significant percentage of all paper in the world is used for toilet paper. “We use 36.5 billions rolls of toilet paper in the U.S. each year, this represents at least 15 million trees pulped. This also involves 473,587,500,000 gallons of water to produce the paper and 253,000 tons of chlorine for bleaching purposes. The manufacturing process requires about 17.3 terawatts of electricity annually. Also, there is the energy and materials involved in packaging and transporting the toilet paper to households across the country.”—Timber Jack, Yahoo Answers.

Perhaps instead we should go back to Pig Latrines? What's that? Parts of Goa used to have Pig Latrines. Here you crap on a platform. Below there's space for pigs to come in and clean up. No need for a flush handle. But you may need a stick. In a book I recently reviewed, ‘One Life to Ride' the author relates about being given a stick when going to the loo to whack pigs, in case they decided to take a bite of his backside.

It's big and also upmarket… The Japanese have innovated with toilets that often come with bells and whistles. Music to drown out the noises.

The Brit queen has a range of designer potty seats, to keep the royal backside warm.

A house we once considered buying had a loo that was right in the bedroom. Half the room was a bedroom the other half the loo, and not even a glass partition between. Also there were two pots next to each other. Perhaps to have a crappy conversation? Like this?

by Tarun Cherian. Key Contributions by U Abraham, Celia Cherian, Buffy Cherian..

The Aura of the Crappper...

What does someone crapping look like? To aura eyes it's magnificent.

A more detailed look for healers. It begins with a circular movement in the ‘stomach' area. This triggers a decision at the throat chakra which then commands the solar plexus and Navel chakra. Messages move back and forth between the solar plexus and root. The focus then moves to the navel, and a circular energy 2 feet around the navel area. This activates a channel to below the earth. The three charkas, the shadow root, below feet, and below earth interact. At the end, feedback energy curls back to the navel, throat, solar plexus and root.












































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