We, men, women, children who have access to the internet, we are all interested in a pair of boobs. We find them interesting. I may go so far as saying that we are obsessed with them. I say obsessed because we don’t discuss about boobs on the dining table. We discuss movies, music, politics, and conspiracy theories behind Arnab Goswami’s angst. We are passionate about these things, but not obsessed.
What we are obsessed about, we don’t talk about them. It is our obsessions. We don’t like being judged, especially for our obsessions. There are few things, which we as a species are collectively obsessed with. And there is no greater obsession we share and participate in our privacy, than what comes out of our body.
Farts, shit, lint, ear wax, boogers, the smells... We are obsessed with them all. And because of this shared obsession, I can safely confess that my bum and my belly button smell the same. The smell is repulsive at first, much like the taste of beer. But the more you smell it, the more you stick your finger in and smell it. Much like the seventh pitcher you have just guzzled while yelling at the television.
I am always wary of people who physically flinch when I make this confession. In my mind, I ask myself, ‘what sort of a person are you if you don’t know how your orifices smell like?’. I bet you also are the kinds who gets out off with your food because somebody is vividly describing the colour, shape and size of the douche they dropped in the morning. Or the viscous alien like booger they picked off their nose. You have done it, but you don’t want to discuss it? Why? Why would you stop yourself from sharing what you found in your deepest, darkest apertures? Do you not think that Indiana Jones is awesome?
So, go on, give your sweat-laced-recently-shaved-armpit a whiff. Take in that smell, relish it. It is all you. Now make somebody else smell it, consensually of course, preferably in a public transport. Nothing makes us feel closer to somebody than smelling other people’s orifices.
Very few people are aware of this human obsession. And the ones who are aware of this, are the ones who wield power in a discussion. This knowledge is the quintessential ‘think the audience is naked’ power play.
Go ahead... stick your finger in an orifice of your choice, in your own body, preferably.