I plan to write a two part story about an ill-fated Mr. Kotresh. I know not of his future but now Kotresh ,on a hospital bed, is holding his testicles in a vice grip, reminiscing the series of unfortunate incidents that unfolded upon him (rather cruelly) on the 24th of April 2002.
He had been visiting his toilet far too often then. Diarrhoea, you guess!! Nah. It was his arse. It never felt empty.
Strange things were being reported in the papers that April. The Times of
In The Hindu- an article about planetary alignment that was to happen on the 24th of April. Kotresh tightened his grip on them danglers. They aligned themselves along the axis of his piddler. “Planetary Alignment!” he chuckled to himself.
It was as if a rebellious piece of turd (Bas-turd he called it) had quite comfortably tucked itself into an inaccessible recess in his rectum, refusing to budge. He sat for hours on, trying to push this last nuisance ounce of excrement out. But this piece-of-shit had its own ideas. At night Bas-turd came to life, it tickled nerve endings, drew letters on the walls of anal canals, as if trying to communicate with him. Our protagonist, Shri Kotresh, was at first nonplussed, but after several days of having letters scribbled on his viscera, he gave in (midnight, the 23rd of April). He sat on his commode with a paper and a pencil, noting down Bas-turd’s dicta.
“H I . M R . S T O O L . M Y N A M E “said Turd.
Kotresh wondered how he could communicate back. Twenty minutes hence he was swallowing a Rupee 1 coin with his name written on it. Soon the coin would meet Mr.Stool and the two would have formally begun a dialogue, thought he. To Kotresh’s misfortune Mr.Stool, the fox, kept the coin for himself. Kotresh now swallowed another two warning Mr. Stool of the dire consequences of his actions. These coins too were promptly retained in Stool’s niche. Now his arse felt heavier than before. Kotresh thought long and hard and sent down one more coin that read “Truce. Let’s shake hands”.
“V E R Y W E L L” said Stool.
Kotresh in an attempt at Rectal Rectitude sent his left arm up his bowels, past the sphincter into his rectum.
He extended his hand roughly in the direction of Stool. Then there was an unbearable tingle in his rear (not different from the tingle people get when they clean their arses with fresh ganja leaves). His nervous system went berserk in its entirety. His head was filled with a spate of signals. His eyeballs began to twitch. They then traveled to the opposite corners of his eyes and now his brain received two sets of visual data. “The apocalypse!!” cried a soothsayer with his budbudke “The planetary alignment shall herald the end of this world and all of its worldly inhabitants”. All of this was just too much to handle for Kotresh. There was momentary lapse of reason and he took a wild swipe at Stool and his three coins. By his actions Kotresh had now revealed to Stool his true intention in entering his citadel.
Meanwhile, Stool seeking to escape Kotresh’s left arm, dug deeper into his rectum. The deeper went Stool, deeper went Kotresh’s arm. Then all of a sudden Kotresh felt his rectum stop growing. He now knew he had Stool cornered. Then came the mother-of-all swipes. Thwack!! A crippling pain shot through Kotresh’s crotch. Kotresh inadvertently drew his hand of his anus and fell unconscious. He had had his victory alright, Stool was knocked dead (seconds after his death, Shri Stool turned into fluid goo and oozed out of Kotresh), but something had changed in Kotresh. Women would now see him in a different light…
To be continued.
