Archaeological Gazette

Vol. 21.3, Bundle xii, 31 November 2012, Copenhagen, Denmark

“Bi-monthly weekly for those who dig deep”

Part 1: Dung raises stink on Chennai’s past

-          Dr.  M Sathya Prasad

If the name Dung conjures-up images of some serious Chinese scientist, the Noble Laureate Prof. Dr. Wang Dung, with a hunched back and thick round eyeglasses, seriously prying under a microscope, then you are unfortunately wrong and your life could assuredly be in a mess. First of all, there is no Nobel Laureate by that name. Secondly, the bump on the crown of your head is a result of your repeated collisions with the corporate glass ceiling. Your thinking is much too linear and logical so much so that you habitually suffer pathological rejection in the hands of the corporate world. However, a well-accepted scatological view of the subject – while impressing the corporate world as transformational – would also reveal something not so latent in the name – Dung…, my friend, is simply dung.

An international team of archaeologists recently unearthed one of the most significant discoveries since the Dead Sea scroll – right in the suburb of Chennai, India. Chief archaeologist Sir Hans Peters, who had undertaken this arduous expedition, on the assurance of anonymity (readers are asked to keep this to themselves), exclaimed with goose-bumps, “A good archaeologist has something in common with the undertaker – a penchant to dig deep. Where we differ is, obviously, while the undertaker digs to bury, we dig to unbury. So, many of our findings include painstakingly unearthing what some undertakers centuries ago might have buried.” Sir Peters is habituated to becoming rhetorical when excited, “They bury and we unbury; and of course, in between these historical occurrences might lie a few hundred years. We undauntedly undertake this task and thus make an otherwise insignificant centuries-old dead person become a display piece in a museum or pictures in school textbooks.” A paradox indeed of life (or rather death)!

It was long suspected that Ayanavaram got its name due to the degeneration of its original name – Iron-puram. Historians have long grappled with the presence of a large number of hard nuggets dispersed in that geographical region. Time and weather have rendered these items so hard that historians were convinced that these were indeed made out of iron oxide, and hence the name Iron-puram. This leads us to the logical next question – from where did these iron nuggets come from in the first place? There are hardly any remains of ancient foundries or smithies, which would have been tell-tale reasons behind the presence of iron nuggets. This is a textbook case of Frawley’s paradox – the presence of artifacts without any evidence of ‘conducive-supporting activities’ in the surroundings.

The breakthrough came when scientist, Martin Zimmerberg was strolling around Ayanavaram. He was negotiating the narrow by-lanes on foot, and as always, extremely guarded in taking every single step since an accidental misstep might land him on – you guessed it right – poo. It was always confounding for this young scientist as to why the locals use the term “poo” for something fragrant and beautiful, that women love to adorn their hair with, while the English-speaking westerners use the word “poo” for stinking solidified discharge of every zoological creature. The locals, however, also use the word “poo” for things they condescend, like “poo, ivvaLavu dhaana…etc”. Similarly, the health-conscious English-speaking Westerner considers “pea” an important item of his green diet. The Tamil-speaking Chennai local, however, uses the same word “pea” in an entirely different context – the explanation of which unfortunately falls beyond the scope of this technical article. Of course, the word pee for a Westerner is less disgusting than the similar-sounding local word. Even the traditional nadasvaram musician never fails to caution you, by repeatedly blowing his lungs out on your ears, “p…p…p…P…P…Peeee.” Just a bit of cogitation would reveal similar serious cultural and semantic tie-ups between the east and the west. Pondering over such important connections and contradictions that life often presents in bewildering capsules… err… nuggets, Zimmerberg committed a misstep and landed on (you don’t have to guess) what the historians have hitherto deemed as iron nuggets.

This was truly an Eureka moment for Zimmerberg. He decided then and there to confront facts directly and take the bull by its horns. He smuggled some of those nuggets, neatly wrapped in his most expensive silk shirt (this is the most recommended method to handle fossils), to his country (since exporting historical fossils involves extensive bureaucratic red-tapes and greasing the palms of some authorities). Careful lab examinations did reveal minute traces of iron, but nowhere sufficient to deem those as iron nuggets. Thus the nuggets were passed on to the expert hands of zoologist Alan Wintermeyer, who is an authority when it comes to Hyena’s poo. The conclusions of Wintermeyer were immediate and shocking, “These are indeed fossilized hyena poo. I know for sure. As a matter of fact, I use such nuggets as paperweights routinely.”

Armed with this new scientific evidence, an excited Zimmerberg constructed a revolutionary theory, which he verified painstakingly by poring through the annals of British occupation in the Madras Presidency, dating back to the 17th century. When Ayanavaram was a no man's land, the then shrewd general Robert Clive (whose fascination for Hyenas was as intense as his loyalty to the British Crown) created a Hyena sanctuary there. The locals, who for the first time had heard about Hyenas named the sanctuary “Hyena-puram”, which for no fault of theirs, the English (mis)pronounced, “Hyeenah-poo’ram”. The hyenas are long dead and gone, but the name, and also their poo, have managed to survive. Denuded by time and shaped by the vernacular tongue, Hyeenah-poo’ram became Ayanavaram.

This significant discovery has not gone well with everyone in the society. While academicians welcomed the findings, there were a few disgruntled souls as well. Take, for instance, a sore and sour Madasamy, who has been collecting these nuggets for decades hoping that he would be able to sell those for a tidy sum when iron prices soar northwards. “It is heart-breaking indeed that all this time, for three generations, we have just been accumulating poo! I have a room full,” he lamented. Gurusamy, the local science teacher pondered, “I never realized how dense fossilized hyena poo could be! We should pelt those on Pakistanis and protect our borders. We could use catapults supplied by the neighbourhood gypsies – the Pakis would literally get poo-scared of us,” he prophesised. The true art of biological warfare indeed! He further added, “That way we could also clean up Madasamy’s room full of poo”. Gurusamy always tries to kill two birds with a single nugget. The self-made authority on cow-dung, Muniamma, was less impressed, “I used to play Frisbee with cow-dung cakes when I was a child.” Her arch rival, Poongavanam goes one-up on Muniamma to legitimize her own intimacy with dung. She works as an aaya in the local primary school and sounds all too familiar with dung – “Our school bell rings twice a day – dung, dung, dung, dung…” Her pet is a dung beetle and her passion is dung battle. When it comes to a duel between Muniamma and Poongavanam, it is always dung for dung!

Gurusamy already has a cult-like following for his experiment on fossilizing human poo. Gurusamy believes that just like cow poo produces gobar gas, human poo could also have useful applications. He is already working on a theory that fossilized human poo could become as radioactive as Uranium 235, if left over a period of time - untouched. If this theory works out, India’s energy problems could be pooh-poohed once and for all. “These are exciting times for science and poo,” Gurusamy's friend Poopathy mused, “Who knows! Just like the infamous gold rush, the future might behold a rush for all sorts of poo!” Stock markets have to take note of this speculation seriously. Who knows! Poopathy could be our own 'Poo'stradamus.

Zimmerberg cautions, “If you commit a misstep and land on something however carefully you might walk on the streets of Chennai suburbs, don’t panic and say, “Oh! Sh*t”. You might just be on the threshold of making a great scientific discovery, just as he accidentally (again) stepped on to something, “Oh! Sh..” – well, I leave that to your nuggets of imagination.

Ps.: All names are fictional; hyena included!