Where have all the toilets gone

Finally a shooting star! After 28 years of life, it comes scampering across the sky, dripping from the skin of sky - a chance to wish for.

What I wish today, the ashes of the star will know! And no one else! Those dreams of faraway times in past will jump into oblivion and turn to ashes in the midway. But we will still be going to where everyone goes, in this rickshaw.

The rickshaw-wala will ask for more money than deserved. (And yet what does he deserve? What do I deserve? ) We will have a good fight over the fare and lose our temper for good. But one of us would give in and the rickshaw-wala would go on to carry other people somewhere.

Where do they go?

Where do everyone rush?

Obviously, to their workplaces! or toilet, mind!

This eternal going back and forth to toilet, this inevitability ingrained in the fabric of human civilization - doesn't it tell us something about that which can not be told? Does it not whisper in its husky voice and faded language like rustle of the leaves in a storm? Wherever you might fly, you are to return unto me - spoketh the toilet in its vitrified vice. A binding contract! A non-negotiable liability!

Every soul on this planet is laboriously complicating their lives, others' lives, twisting their fate and essence of existence to seriously unwind themselves eventually in the toilet. That is the fate of our race. Believe it or not! Hence the dream that I had last night can be the inspiration for the greatest horror-cum-scifi-cum-action-cum-musical drama ever made.

I saw I was in a mighty room, the room was filled with troubled men. Their face was red and haste was great, but all the toilets had fled.