So me and Tom were killing time before an overnight train so went on a long walk, saw a coffee house n thought this might be a nice place to sit off for a while (it wasn't but thats another story). Anywho, refreshed and feeling good we started walking home, albeit aware that a bowel movement would soon be due. 5 minutes past, then 10...then 20. My stomach was in agony, we started to run but all this did was increase the pressure. Then finally, we were almost in seeing distance of the hotel and salvation. Taking my eye off the ball for that split second allowed ny guts to sense my desperation. I had no choice, I ran into the side street adjacent a fairly major road in the centre of Mumbai and unleached a load that can only be described as chocolatey porridge next to a large gate. Tom kept guard but a man approached, not only a man but an army man. I crouched against the wall, sweat dripping from my brow ans turd still trickling from my anus. Completely unphased he simply looked at me, smiled and said "ah sick sick". Yes my good friend. Sick sick indeed.