I don’t know what’s so funny about farting, however, most of the people laugh when they fart or hear someone farting. People laugh even when you mention the word fart.
As a child I loved to tell this story. I cannot remember whether someone had told me this story or I had read this in a book of fables, but this was my favorite childhood story, and interestingly it was about farting. The story goes like this:
Once upon a time there was an old couple. They lived alone in a village, and they had no one to look after them. One night some buglers broke into the house. The old couple hid inside a cauldron.
“Wife, I feel like farting,” said the old man.
“Husband, don’t fart,” said the old woman, “If you fart, buglers will find us.”
The old man tried to control, but in vain. As the old man farted, there was a loud sound. Boom! The buglers who had just entered the house heard the blast. They thought it was a bomb, and they ran away.
When the story ended, I burst into a prolonged laughter. As a child, I never knew whether people laughed at my story or they laughed seeing me laugh.
Like the old man in the story, my father was a great farter. I call my father “a great farter” because he farted frequently, and his fart was always loud. When I was a child, I believed that only men could fart. My belief was based on the fact that my father farted loudly, but I had never heard my mother farting. Whenever father farted, I wrinkled my nose and closed it with two fingers. Every time father spotted me doing this, he used to laugh wildly and share his fart story. Actually, my father had numerous fart stories. I still remember some of his fart stories and these stories always make me smile.
My father owned farmlands; however, he did not farm. He had rented his farmland to the tenant farmers. Once he was in a meeting with his tenant farmers. Father was sitting on a chair in a raised platform and the farmers were sitting on the floor. As the meeting was progressing, father felt like farting. My father is a person who never controlled his fart. Therefore, when he felt like farting, he lifted his bottom from right side and passed gas.
Coincidently, little below the father’s chair was a farmer squatting. The gas directly hit the nose of the farmer. The poor man jerked. He stood up making his face. The men in the room understood what just happened. They began to laugh. “I tried to pass gas slowly, however, it came out with a sound,” my father mused when he shared his fart story.
When the story ended, father and I laughed. Hearing the men laugh over farting story, mother would screw her forehead. “Insolent man,” she would remark. “I wish the poor man had cursed your backside.”
“If he had cursed, my backside would have fallen by now,” father added laughing until tears rolled in his eyes.
“I wish he had plugged your hole,” mother said. She always got angry when father farted.
“You don’t have a hole in your bottom,” father said to mother, “It is only me who has an opening on the backside.”
Mother began to laugh.
Some people do funny things while farting. When I was a kid, my cousin used to ask me to place my palm on his backside and then he would fart. Time again he made stories and tricked me to become a victim. Since he was much older to, I was unable to revenge. However, one day after he farted on my palm, I immediately pulled my hand and placed on his nose. He stopped.
One day I asked my father why only men farted.
“Who told you that,” father asked.
“I have never heard mom fart,” I said. Mother began to laugh. “Do you fart mom,” I asked mother in disbelief.
Now, it was my father’s turn to laugh. “My son, everyone farts except those who can pick the drop of water from a lotus leaf.”
“Don’t make the boy confused,” mother said smiling.
I did not understand what they were talking. “Come on son; let’s go outside,” father said. I looked at him expectantly, “To the garden,” he explained.” We went to the garden. In our garden pond, we had grown lotus.
“Can you see water drops on the lotus leaves,” father asked. I looked at the lotus in the pond. On the leaves that were raised from the water surface, I could see water droplets. Father gently plucked a leaf and stretched before me. The water droplet looked brilliant in the sunlight. He tried to catch the drop but it ran from his fingers and dropped in the ground. “You see,” father said, “Since I fart, I cannot catch the water drop. Now you try.”
Of course I farted, but I did not want to admit to my father. By the time I decided whether to try catching water drop on the lotus leaf or not, father appeared with another leaf with a water drop. I knew I could not catch the water drop because I farted, however, I tried. Once again, water slipped from hand. “Now let’s experiment this with mother,” father said and called mother.
Mother was behind us watching father and son. “Mom, you don’t fart, do you?” I asked. “Now you try.”
“Okay, let me try,” she said. Water drop again fell when she tried to catch.
I was surprised. “Mother, you also fart,” I asked her.
“We all have holes in out butt,” she said. We began to laugh.
This is how I came to know women also farted. My sister was not born then, however, I knew if my sister had tried this experiment she would have also been unable to catch the water drop.
Interestingly, I always thought women farted less compared to men. Actually, it was rare to hear mother and sister fart. Nevertheless, my belief about women farts was shaken when my aunt, my father’s cousin, came to live with us.
My aunt was a great fart like my father. She farted frequently and farted loudly. In the beginning, we did not know she was a farter, we had never heard her farting. Once day when we were on the dining table, there was a loud fart.
“Shame on you,” mother remarked.
“It’s not me,” father looked angry, “Do you think it’s only me who has an opening on the backside.”
Aunt blushed. My sister and I broke into laughter. We knew our aunt had farted. After that first fart, our aunt began to fart more often. We even gave her name “farter aunt.” Whenever we called her name she used to remark, “We all have holes in our butt.”
During the first few weeks of my marriage, I used to feel shy to fart inform of my wife. When I felt like farting, I went out of the room or stood at the window and passed gas slowly. I always tried not to make sound.
One evening, I was making the bed and my wife was brushing her hair. Suddenly, she farted. It was a loud fart. I looked at her, she was standing before the mirror and brushing her hair as if nothing had happened. “Shameless woman,” I remarked.
“So what,” my wife said not looking at me, “I have a hole in my butt.” I began to laugh. “What’s so funny about farting,” she asked.
Suddenly I remembered the incident from my childhood. I told her what I thought about women farting and how I had asked mother to catch the water drop from the lotus leaf. She began to laugh.
“So we both have holes in our butt,” my wife said laughing. It was a funny way to say we both fart. Remembering something my wife said, “I also have an interesting fart story from childhood. I felt bad when my dad farted, and he used to sing a song to make me laugh.” I was drawn into her story. I stopped making bed and looked at her. “Fart comes, fart goes, what’s the big deal about farting.”
“Is that a song,” I asked her. “If it is then it is very smelly song.”
“I did not have separate room until I was in high school,” my wife said. “We two sisters and our brother slept in the same room. Every day in the morning our brother used to tell stories of last night farting. He even produced the sound of our farting from his mouth.”
Suddenly, I began rubbing my eyes. “Something got into my eyes,” I said. My wife tossed the hair brush on the floor and came to me. “Let me see what got into your eyes,” she said trying to open my eyes. I pushed and farted loudly.