You might have to hold your breath for this one - The Toxic Paruppu(dhal/lentil) Fart

So, one of my friends had introduced me to another 'interesting' friend of his named Guru sometime back. 
"This guy thinks in ways nobody would even venture to", he had told me. 
"He's like a uniquely capable out-of-the-box thinker and would catch you off guard with his counter questions. I mean, you wouldn't even be able to digest such a question let alone answer it. And his ancestry has a line of absolute geniuses, predominantly mathematics professors". 

I hadn't taken it for anything more than a bit of friendly praise to generate a good image about the guy. But I remember those exact words now and can't help but think how perfectly apt they were.

For a while now, I have been thinking about coming up with some sort of device to help women escape rape. I mean, a woman should have some sort of defense system as a last resort. However much the police, her friends and relatives try to protect her, at the hour of need only her instincts and the stuff with her will actually help save herself. So, I've been thinking about tasers and pepper sprays but nothing seemed to fit the bill. I mean, it should not be that just the woman with sufficient money gets to protect herself. The solution should be cheap enough that with a reasonable amount of funding this stuff should be freely available for any woman anywhere across India. I thought and thought but just couldn't come up with a good solution on my own. So I thought I should ask intelligent people for suggestions and ideas. Out of nowhere popped the thought - 'who better than Guru'; clearly the hype had worked. So, I got his number, called him up and said that I'd like to go over and talk to him about some stuff on my mind and he was totally chill about it. That was how he always seemed, chill and laid back about everything. Even his eyes were half closed almost always making him look like he was balancing between being awake and asleep. I went up his apartment to meet him and thought it'd be a good idea to get some Samosas from that awesome chat place along the way. He opened his door and let me in to the shabbiest of apartments I've ever been to. No furniture, just stuff like papers, books, pictures, musical instruments, electronics, a lamp or two and some unexpected things like a giant hello kitty doll, etc., lying around all over the place. Surprisingly there wasn't any funny smell. Nothing dirty or stinky anywhere, just messy and totally disorganised. I felt like I was inside a dope-junkie's imagination. Guru smelt the delicious aroma rising from the plastic bag in my hand with closed eyes and said, "Ahhh, the golden-brown tetrahedrons of gustatory delight!". I was happy I had made a good decision. "Definitely, Tea to go with them.. the perfect slow-boiled tea it must be. I'll be right back, why don't you go ahead and find a place to settle down". I smiled and proceeded to a corner of the living room which seemed to have relatively enough real estate to park my rear end.I sat down and noticed that the walls were largely empty but for a large painting that hung in the middle of the room. A recreation of "Woman in front of Van Gogh s sunflowers".  Guru was back after putting the teapot on the stove. After some pleasantries we got to talking about the primary purpose of my visit. 

I asked him, "So, what do you think of this? Do you have any ideas or inputs?"
Guru immediately said," Why a device?"
I had no answer to that. But I guess he wasn't expecting one.
"Why can't the woman herself be the weapon?"
"Oh, you mean Martial arts?"
"No I mean the woman's body".
"Rape resistance condoms?"
"No, I mean farts".
"What?!!"
"Yes, farts. Have you ever been on a public bus during the evening? It's the most disgusting place to be in. A collection of sweaty people from the middle and lower classes working various jobs, hailing from unheard-of places, worshipping different gods, but all assembled together by fate in that tight space to smell one man's flatulence. Perspiring like your body is crying out, suffocating and yet trying to hold your breath as a respite from  the horrendous odour, only to discover, on your next unavoidable inhale, that a toxic addition has been made to the already nauseating atmosphere  by another socially-participating citizen. Do you think lust would ever cross your mind when you are in that place?"
I was flabbergasted and was looking at him like I had seen a ghost. "No", I managed to say.
"Well, there you have it. The perfect rape repellent. Toxic-Farting. Women should just eat the spiciest dishes and the most protein rich pulses at lunch to prepare themselves for their evening sojourns into dark lonely alleys. Their digestive system would be ready with flatulence of exotic, eye-watering fragrances to dispense upon rape-attempt situations "
"You want them to fart when a rapist attacks?", I retorted, rather redundantly.
"Precisely. If I were a woman, I probably wouldn't mind even soiling myself, if need be".
"Wow".
"It would also work for cases involving multiple rapists, surprise ambushes and drugging".
"So.. They should build up gas in their bodies and feel uncomfortable everyday to avoid probable rape"
"It's not unnatural... Especially on an Indian diet.. We get gas all the time. Its just a matter getting it under control and using it to our advantage. Or did u think girls have special physiologies that don't produce it?"
"You must be joking".
"It's just a matter of looking at things a certain way. Ooh, tea must be ready by now".

I could not recuperate from what I had just heard. Any civilised man would find it appalling to listen to such things. I didn't say much about the topic for the rest of the time I was there and just focused on the things in the room and the remarkable deliciousness of the tea-samosa combination we had. It was only few days later that I reflected upon the conversation; I had consciously taken a break from my mini-research just to avoid doing that. I realised how a guy like me, without sisters, couldn't even handle the mention of a girl farting. Many of us imagine girls as delicate beings who are perfect, angelic and embodiments of everything pure and beautiful, almost placing them on a pedestal, in sharp contrast to those who see them as sub-human, like livestock, that 'deserve' to be raped if they don't bow their heads in accordance to certain prehistoric 'rules'. Two extremes, neither of which, I'm sure, women would want us to be at.