India's Greatest Danger

Everything known to mankind comes from India. Michael Jackson comes from India. Yeah, he's black, or maybe white, or perhaps something in between. However, the first recorded use of plastic surgery was in 800 BCE in India. So, most of Michael Jackson comes from India. Gilbert Arenas comes from India. The Washington Wizards star is known as Agent Zero; the concept of zero is an Indian invention from 400 BCE. Even the Frisbee comes from India. Formerly known as a "chakram", it was a metal disc used as a throwing weapon with its sharp outer edge. Who needs a guillotine? I've got a chakram! The Frisbee is more like a chakram than most people would think. Granted, a chakram can chop of your head. I don't know about your head, but Frisbees sure can chop off your dignity.

Chakram-ing is a lost art. Instead the vile art of Frisbee-ing is practiced in India. At least, that's what was being done by two children on a musty day in the most mosquito-ridden town in India: Jhansi. The younger kid rarely played anything other than cricket, and thus had no experience in Frisbee-ing. Everyone called him Gogol; if you called him by his true name, Gaganvihiri, you would receive a punch to the face. Gogol had his back to a paan stand. Paan is the most popular thing-to-chew in India, equivalent to gum in the United States. The main difference is that while gum is just unhealthy because of its sugar content, paan is a known carcinogen. The other kid, nicknamed Kachra, stood with his back to a crumbling stone wall on the verge of collapsing. Kachra never understood the rest of India's interest in cricket. He acquired a Frisbee in a school raffle and never went back. However, he often had to get new ones, as the starved dogs wandering everywhere would often use his Frisbees as a chew toy if they could get their mouths on them.

"Oy Kachra, watch me, I'll do it this time!" Gogol chucked the Frisbee, sending it to its demise as the disc hit the dirt. Kachra yelled, "Oh salaah (idiot), you have to throw it with the side saying up facing up! Come on now, do it the right way this time." Gogol chucked the Frisbee. It hit the dirt. He chucked the Frisbee again. It hit the dirt again. So passed the next 15 minutes. Beggars passed by. Emaciated dog-like creatures passed by. A bicycle rickshaw "driver" taking two Americans on a tour around town passed by. Kachra was getting ticked, as in a time bomb about to blow up. " Kachra contemplated hurling the younger kid into the paan stand. He decided against it; maybe Santa would look at his self-control as a good deed and get him the stealth bomber he asked for last year.

Kachra sent the Frisbee back to Gogol with flawless technique, in the same manner Kyle Orton throws footballs in perfect spirals. As Gogol watched Kachra, something clicked in the head of Gogol. It was a chirping bug trapped in his hair. He swatted it out, and proceeded to send the Frisbee whizzing away without hitting the ground for the first time. However, the Frisbee went in a direction far away from Kachra. Kachra began running for the Frisbee; he didn't care that Gogol was warning him about some danger further ahead. "If a dawg can catch a Frisbee, then so can I," thought Kachra, remembering the confusing black people he saw on TV calling each other dawgs. Gogol was screaming for no apparent reason to Kachra, rambling about cow manure. Kachra wondered, "Is he delirious? Why would I care about cow manure? I'm fed up with him. He's bored me out of mind. At least today won't be a complete waste if I at least make this catch." Kachra's eyes locked on to the Frisbee, his mind submerged in the zone, his body leaping over a stray dog and maneuvering past a holy cow.

In sports, its always good to get in the zone. However, going into the zone following a yellow disc through India is generally considered a death wish. It would have been a good idea Kachra's eyes to stray from the Frisbee for at least a few seconds. While Kachra was able to see the stray dog and holy cow in his peripheral vision, he missed a crate of rotten mangoes directly in his path. Unexpectedly, Kachra heard a "squish". He looked down and saw orange mango goo on his feet. Looking up, all he could see was a pitch black abyss. Kachra didn't even have enough time to utter an expletive his friends taught him at school. All he heard was a loud "Noooooooooo...." coming from the land he had just left, as he hurtled into the darkness.

Kachra wondered where he was. Maybe this would be a life-changing moment for him. Maybe his auto-biography would have two chapters, pre-falling in abyss and post-falling in abyss. Maybe someone really did dig a hole to China, and he had just gone through. Or maybe not. He looked up, and saw a swarm of mosquitoes. "Dang, I'm still in India", thought Kachra. He then realized that his entire body was submerged in henna-colored muck. Half a tomato was planted directly on top of his head. A dilapidated sandal occupied a spot on his shoulder, and a grotesque leech made acquaintance with Kachra's nose. Kachra stripped off the leech, and shook off the sandal. He began breathing through his nose, not wanting any of the cursed entities in the abyss in his mouth . Immediately, Kachra realized that he shouldn't have done so. A stench smelling like the armpit of a victorious marathon runner overwhelmed Kachra. Kachra began choking on the stench; the only place that compared in nastiness of smell was his elementary school principal's office. Out of nowhere, Gogol's head appeared over the edge of the abyss. Gogol's look of revulsion told Kachra everything. "Dude," whispered Gogol in horror, "You just fell in a sewer!"