eat my piss.

i once starved myself for a week to see what happens when you don't eat for seven days...i wondered if anything remarkable would happen. if i would break and eat...or collapse or anything remotely interesting in the course of the experiment.
on the third day...i stopped feeling hungry. i could imagine what it used to be like to feel that happy feeling...but the sight of food...although still made my mouth water...there was just no room in my stomach to consider eating.
by the fifth day i was fantasizing about chicken legs with cheese on them. it was amazing. never before have i fantasized about something i'm not supposed to feel guilty about. those few minutes before i fell asleep...i would think about large juicy chicken legs...chicken breasts with cheese...and turkeys...not that i've ever had one...but i did imagine what it must be like. i would dream about food...
by the seventh day i was completely indifferent over the matter of eating. my pants were loose...very much so. in fact i could not walk around in clothes that didn't have some form of anti gravity devices...
i finally broke the fast on the seventh night by eating chicken that i had cooked myself. i had to force myself to eat because i didn't feel hungry...and that worried me.
i doubt if any of the food was digested...i had good diarrhea for a couple of days...but eventually it all stabled out and i was back to normal. it's not hard to starve to death. after a while you just can't eat anyway...although you do remember vaguely how amazing it was to taste...something...other than water.
i was feeling very hungry but i can't eat today...there's no chicken...only rice...i don't know why...but there are three different types of rice here...and i've been staring at them...i like rice normally...but i don't feel like eating rice today...screw rice.
somebody rang the door bell. i hate it when people do that. but it has to be done...it was some old man. i watched from behind the door as he rang the bell and then fumbled with the door knob...then opened the door a bit...thought about coming inside...then decided against it. eventually i thought...fudge it...let's see what he wants.
"woh...ji...roti khani hai..." he said
"roti khani hai?" i was kind of surprised...people usually ask for money.
"ji..."
"acha thaero..." money i don't have...but food i have plenty because nobody should go hungry for too long or they'll stop feeling hungry. which is...not as much fun as one might think.
so i filled a plate with rice that i don't want to eat...and gave that to him.
i have no idea how the hell he knew that i didn't want to eat today...but for some odd reason this stranger turned up for no reason other than to eat my food. nobody has died of hunger in this country in a very very long time. people who don't work or get paid etc.etc. and there are a lot of them...do not starve. nobody starves to death...people starve in africa and maybe south america...i dunno. the newspaper never reads...this many people died of hunger today in pakistan...because around here people know where to go to get fed.

"I'm proud of us, of the way that, though our talents are small and peculiar, we use them to their best advantage." -N.H.

half an hour after writing this bit...i am forced to edit...and add these few lines. an hour after i had fed the old man and had my unsatisfactory lunch of unfried kabab's a woman came inside the house...without ringing the bell...and left a donga of rice...it had chicken in it. which is what i had been...er...hoping for.
therefore the lord works in mysterious ways...
nobody dies of hunger in my country...especially not on holy days. but i don't get why there's four kinds of rice in my house...