The Filth

“You dirt! What are you doing there? Don’t you know which area you’re in?” He screamed his guts out. I pulled up the zip at once and tried to leave but a tight grip on my collar and some nails piercing through the back of my neck held me back.

“What’s your name you filth? How dare you come in this area and try to dirty the streets with your filthy act?”Mr. R Bolton asked with a death glare that made me want to pee all the more. I looked down and saw these shiny leather brogues that looked freshly polished.

“Forgive me sir, I realize I shouldn’t be doing that out in the open but it was kind of an emergency.” I said in a firm voice, holding tight the sides of my worn out loose jeans. Mr. Bolton said, “What is your name? I will note a complaint against you right now! You filthy cheap bastards who absolutely lack manners, social etiquette, and toilets! Is there no one from your area who could teach you how to behave in the outside world? Add to it you have the audacity to come to this side of the city and litter a public place by peeing all over it! What if you’re carrying some disease on you? What if it spreads in this side of the city and becomes the reason to kill hundreds of prestigious men? Sigh.”

He went quiet in the efforts of calming down and I chose to be silent. After a moment, I gathered some guts and spoke, “My name is Ron, yes I’m poor and I come from that part of this city where you would never dare to put your feet on. The reason why I’m here is because I wanted to meet the government officer who takes care of the needs of people from economically backward class. I have a letter that’s signed by every adult from that “filthy area” that clearly says, “We need toilets with taps that has water flowing through them 24×7.” This is the fifth time I’m coming here in last 5 days and every day they ask me to come later. This morning I left from my house in a hurry to reach here in time and meet the officer. In the efforts of not getting late I left without finishing my business and in order to release the tension, I asked a gentleman to guide me to a public toilet.”

The man looked at me, laughed hysterically and said, “Why do you need to use the washroom, you guys are in a habit to do it in public, so go ahead roll your pants down and do it! Why pretend to feel shy or ashamed?” I don’t know what was so funny – the fact that I asked for a public toilet or the fact that I come from a backward part of this city – you know, one that is not blessed with enough toilets and forces people to defecate in public?

To prove my point sir, I decided to do what was asked of me to do. Now I did that only to grab the attention of well cultured people who are stuffed with “manners” and social etiquette. Well, and of course to get some help from them. That is if they’re humans enough to understand the problems of other humans and choose to help them. And don’t you think that will be a much better thing to do rather than laughing at us and giving us grief for having been born poor?

Sir, I have one question here, what exactly is filthy? Your thoughts about us and by us I mean all the poor people out there who are deprived of their rights of having basic facilities like public toilets or us who are forced to pee in public just to prove a simple point?

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