We were on our way to attend the annual meeting of Kerala Medical Graduates Association. A big bus had been hired on the hopes of many members, but only few turned up. So we were seated in the bus, scattered around, one seat for a person. We have a very old doctor here doing private practice who is always lethargic and sleepy, and can go in to deep sleep at any time or place. He was also popular for his farts, which were always untimely. (Some people secretly call him Dr.Fart ) He had just placed his handbag on the overhead rack, settled on the seat and then promptly gone to sleep. Just when others were settling down, and were planning to have the breakfast, we heard the roar of a fart, like a trumpet horn. It was from the still sleeping doctor. Everyone stopped talking and looked at his direction .He ripped another, longer fart and went on with his sleep. Children, who were playing at the front of the bus, stopped playing to run to the ripper doctor. They were giggling and laughing, and were expecting another round of the fire work. The women were trying to suppress their laughter and one lady doctor couldn’t hold on and went in to an uncontrolled laughter, and in the process, ripped a small high pitched fart, which suited her good looks. I asked the driver to start the bus; ours was an old school bus which could swallow any sounds around. Everyone was laughing for quite some time, and it was a good start towards a meeting which turned out to be shit.
When I was young, nothing could make me laugh harder than farts. There is just something about the way the air sliding between your butts, and the noise it makes, which makes people laugh. Not to mention the way they smell. Everything about a fart is funny!
All along the way to our meeting place, I was thinking of this fart and the responses. It made me laugh many times. I was thinking how come we were so unkind to farters . If someone belches and makes funny sounds, no one thinks it is bad. But when the same air is passed through the other end, the story changes.
There are many kinds of farts and I have also seen some people who enjoy farting. They never bother about others around and can produce different fart music depending on their moods. Then there is the "coughp". A coughp is where you accidentally fart while coughing .It often happens, and can go unnoticed in the fuss of the cough.
Another name introduced to the fart world is "Aachoorpoo". Aachoorpoo is where you sneeze and fart at the same time. It is like… Aaaaah… Choooo..Porrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Then there is the "Sissy Fart". This fart is often characterized by a high whining noise, similar to the air being let out of a balloon real slow, with the rubber mouthpiece stretched real tight. The kind of fart a princess would do. I guess the sissy aspect of the fart is that men should have loud, earthmoving low-keyed farts. At least a baritone, but a bass is preferred. Real men just don't do sissy farts!
The word “hang time" is very important in a fart.. Hang time is the time a fart lingers in a general area. A fart is said to have good hang time if you can leave the room, like to go to the restroom, come back and be hit by the same fart again. Another term for the same thing is "time bomb". The way a time bomb is used is after you fart, you stand still just long enough to let all of the air escape your pants. Then walk off! Time bombs are especially good to use when in the supermarkets or other public places.
I can give you a good practical advice here. Make sure to push a small test fart before you try to blast someone away! If you are in a crowd, like in a lift or in a train, and if you happen to rip a nasty fart, just stay cool. Act as if you have not done it, and look sternly at the faces of people around, and they would think someone else has done it. Never try to wriggle your butt and squeeze it out without making sound; It would come out with a more squeaky sound, like the whine of a dog hit by a stone.
A friend of mine was having his engagement. As they were having lunch, he started having really bad gas. It got to the point where he could hardly hold it in. After lunch, they were all sitting together in the family room when the house dog Sancho came and sat next to him. As my friend crossed his legs, and was trying to hold the explosion, he let one rip by accident. Terrified, he looked at his future father in law who turned to the dog and said,
"Sancho!" very sternly.
My friend grinned.
"Great, so he thinks it was the dog. Damn I can't hold it in any longer. Let me rip another one and blame it on the dog." He thought as he was petting the dog and ripped a stronger one, this time in real bass tone.
"Sancho!" The father in law to be, exclaimed gain.
"Aaah.., that felt so good, once more and I will be so relieved." And he let another one go, this time, like from a trumpet..
"Sancho!" very sternly.
My friend grinned.
"Great, so he thinks it was the dog. Damn I can't hold it in any longer. Let me rip another one and blame it on the dog." He thought as he was petting the dog and ripped a stronger one, this time in real bass tone.
"Sancho!" The father in law to be, exclaimed gain.
"Aaah.., that felt so good, once more and I will be so relieved." And he let another one go, this time, like from a trumpet..
"Sancho !, I warned you twice ! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM BEFORE HE GASSES YOU TO DEATH!"
The story goes that the girl’s father was so concerned about himself and his dog and my friend’s fart, that he was reluctant to give his daughter in marriage to my friend.
The favorite fart story in my memory is from my childhood, and it really happened.
Ittirachan was the richest man around those days. His family owned plantations all over the state. During those days, when very few had cars, Ittirachan had three cars at home and drivers too. He had a palatial bungalow and was close to politicians and bishops alike. Ittirachan could order the Bishop , that was what they used to say.
So it was, his youngest daughter was getting married at the Cathedral. The whole gang of politicians and half a dozen bishops had arrived. Bishops only attend the weddings of those stinking rich. Only those marriages are made in heaven. The poor gets simply married on earth.
The Archbishop had blessed the couple to be married. There was pin drop silence. Ittirachan’s wife was a fat Ammachi with a huge backside .She was dressed in the traditional aristocratic style in white Mundu with a decorative frill at the back, and a Kasavu shawl and a diamond brooch to match. The knot had just been tied and Ittirachan’s wife ripped a huge fart. Within the walls of the Cathedral, it echoed many times and sounded like the roar of a lion. All eyes turned towards Ammachi and she wished if she had vanished in to thin air. Her face became red and sweaty.
Suddenly she got the brain wave. There was this skeleton of a woman Mariakkutty Chedathi, who was her servant, standing behind her, carrying Ammachi’s bag and umbrella. She whispered to the woman.
“Mariyakkutty, I will give you five hundred rupees, if you act as if you have ripped the fart.”
The poor woman didn’t have an idea of how to act the fart business. But the amount was impossible, about a year’s salary of the poor woman. Her small brain did the work. She got it!. She noticed the tall pulpit, next to her and without further thinking climbed on to it. As loud as she could, she announced.
The poor woman didn’t have an idea of how to act the fart business. But the amount was impossible, about a year’s salary of the poor woman. Her small brain did the work. She got it!. She noticed the tall pulpit, next to her and without further thinking climbed on to it. As loud as she could, she announced.
“I take the full responsibility of the fart you heard, for a sum of five hundred rupees. It is not Ammachi, I am the one who ripped that fart”
