Chalta Hain

Despite trying hard to have some sort of a family reunion dinner, my father dashed away to London the day after we landed. Chip and me and my freshly root-canalled brother and my mother and my uncle all drove him to the airport for a quick good-bye and most importantly some family pictures. But this post is not about reunions but about umm.. for the lack of a delicate word, well, it is about, err, pee-pees. Consider yourself warned. Now is the time to stop reading if you do not want to hear supremely funny tales of a young lad’s momentous journey as he battles his conscience and his body. Bolt now, if you must.

No? OK. Read on, oh, brave ones. As our car negotiated the orange cones at the CSI airport, Chip announced he had to go pee-pee. We were almost out of the airport, headed on our way to go eat dinner. “Chip”, I said. “There are no restrooms here. Would you like to do pee-pee by the road side?” Chip shook his head vigorously. “No. I want to do pee-pee in a restroom with a commode. No road side pee-pee, Aie.” “That will have to wait.” I warned him. “Will you wait until we get to a restaurant?” Chip nodded a yes, not for a minute doubting his will to hold on to his pee-pee for 30 minutes. Thirty minutes breezed by and we were still nowhere close to the restaurant. We were sitting in traffic. “Aie, I want to go do pee-pee now.” My uncle was alarmed. “Chip, let me pull the car over and you can do it by the roadside, OK?” Chip shook his head. He was not letting go of his visions of restrooms with commodes and toilet seat protectors. “It’s OK Chip, really. This is an emergency. There is no restroom here. So it is OK to do it by the roadside. Not always, mind you, but only because this is an emergency.” Chip looked doubtful. We were 10 minutes away from the restaurant. “I’ll go in the restaurant. “ He declared. I doubted Chip’s ability to hold for so long but two year olds often amaze you with phenomenal miracles. But not this time. No miracles were forthcoming and Chip had an accident. His tiny bladder just gave away. He was dumbfounded and embarrassed and angry and frustrated. He just wept and apologized and screamed. I changed him in the car and wiped the seats but he was gloomy until we got to the restaurant.

Fast forward to a few days later. We were at my in-laws home and Chip and I took a little walk to the local market to get me a cell phone card. The trip, I thought would also be illustrative to Chip about open air markets , tiny shops, real money, crowds and suchlike. We walked for about 10 minutes, recharged my cell phone, drank the sweet water from a fresh coconut , which he unbelievably hated. A few minutes later, Chip announced his desire to answer nature’s call. “Chip” I said again, a little sternly. “There are no restrooms here. Will you do pee-pee by the roadside?” This time Chip did not waste a minute thinking. “Yes” came the quick reply. A secluded spot under a tree was soon found and Chip answered the call with utter fascination. “Where is the flush Aie?”He asked trying to look over on the other side to see if a flush lever was lurking there. “There is no flush here.” I was embarrassed. “Is it an automatic flush then?” “Sort of” I said hurrying him away.

Fast forward yet again. These events were narrated to me by my sister in law. She had taken him down to the tot lot in the front of my in-laws’ home. After Chip had played on the slide and the swing and jumped and hopped on the little steps that held the pole for the annual flag hoisting, Chip had to go do pee-pee. “Come on, let’s go up, do pee-pee and come back down again.” My sister in law urged. Chip would have nothing of it. What if this were a conspiracy hatched by his aunt to take him upstairs? What if his own mother saw him go home and decided now was the time to give him a bath? “No!” yelled Chip. “I want to do pee-pee here.” He pointed to the flag pole. My sister in law was understandably aghast. “Nooooo, noooo. We have to upstairs and do it at home. ” Chip would have none of that. She pleaded again with him and he shook his head. “We don’t do pee-pee here, we do it in the bathroom and we will come down again. I promise. We’ll go upstairs and come back in a minute OK?” Chip thought about the proposition for a second and decided to educate his Aatya. “It’s OK to do pee-pee here, aatya. This is India. Ithe chalta (yahan chalta hain)”.

At which point, I, who was talking to a neighbor was summoned. With sister in law's help Chip was promptly frisked away upstairs not just for pee-pee but a bath and dinner as well.

On a slightly more serious note, a big kudos to all mothers of small children in India. I don’t know why we don’t have such basic facilities yet. Barring high end restaurants, I had a hard time finding a place for my son to pee. Why do we ignore such basic bodily functions? How do you all cope?