Thursday, February 23, 2012

Archimedic implications




Any object, wholly or partially immersed in a fluid, is buoyed up by a force equal to the weight of the fluid displaced by the object.

— Archimedes


i.e. the body suffers from an apparent loss of weight equal to displaced weight of liquid when wholly partially immersed in fluid. This generates law of floatation and thus law of sailor’s life.

We lose something ,apparently, every time we sail . We lose land fun, we lose quality moments, some of us lose love, and most of us suffer from an apparent loss of character. I believe, we lose almost as much as we displace. Thousands of tons of water. Subtract a gain of money and add apparent risk, divided by on board fun and multiply it by workload.
We have a perfect equation here.
Apparently.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

End of a loving heart


I prayed the days be longer,
longer be the nights
though it killed me
but it felt so right.

I wanted sometime,
more in everyday.
for I had to look for
a life that went away.

I stayed low,
longer than I thought;
and sank in the darkness,
barely I fought.

I bleeded through eyes,
emptied my soul;
sinking the truths
in drunken strolls.

And hate sank in,
along with some guilt;
crushing me together,
in sleepless quilt.

 beliefs and faiths
and rotten talks,
deceitful promises
and toxic walks.

Nothing stayed right,
nothing seemed wrong.
Yes, i broke down.
I wasn't that strong.

But it's been long
crying and moping,
pretending to all
that i'm not hoping.

I left my bed
crumpled with tears,
came out of closet
though, having some fears.

Yes its not same,
the world I've known;
with all these wounds
and feelings I've grown.

So I left a loving heart,
with a cheerful smile.
its good to be practical
once in a while ..

inspiration.


It's been a very long autumn,
yellow leaves on muddy ways
bare trees sank in thoughts,
searching life in passing days.


Life ,in itself, has lost the meaning.
I am in groove of eat and sleep
and some work and some money,
and some smiles,hollow indeed.

I want a tear that melts my soul.
I want a smile to heart that sleeps.
I want a fire that glows across,
burning the indiffernt,cold in deeps.

I need a meaning, I need a reason.
I need a spring in this endless season.
I need a cause,a faith, a passion,
a reason to breathe,an inspiration.

There is a Sailor!!!!!


we are sailors. Though i have just a year's experience at sea and have been sitting at home counting stars for ages after that, still there are moments every day I get to know that somehow land is not a place where I should be found.

People around me are curious. They look at me and think about my eating habits. They have never been with such a creature like sailor. They have questions.Does he have fins? Does he go underwater? And so on. But they can't ask that!!So they follow an age old questionnaire. ”Things to be asked to a sailor as soon as you spot one on land.” It’s never changing. These are the same questions which Columbus had to answer to his/her highness back in England and Sindbaad to future oil owners. Whenever they returned to their home land they had to..Of course all in a good spirit..People are curious.

Satanic Praises


People are sensitive.Their leaders are very sensitive. On behalf of us they (the leaders) get offended by as much as everything around the globe. Once they get offended (for us), they organize their support to get furious on subject matter and start offending public property and public places by burning news papers, books, posters, banners, tickets, passes, buses, bikes, cars, oil drums, matchboxes, cigarettes whatever can give flash and smoke...whatever comes free or at tax payer’s cost.

Burning hearts and souls, all for the cause.

Train Of Thoughts.


The ill omen to Mumbai journey was evident when one of our reserved seat in gareeb rath was the innovative “side middle berth”. Though you can manage to sleep on it in with the flow of ongoing disappointing life, dining in that tiny space with the third (unknown) person sitting is not gem of an idea. Luckily some of the berths were not yet occupied and so we decided to shift our dinner plans on those untouched places. While we were yet stuffing ourselves with lukewarm food we just bought, the train slowed down to accommodate more human beings. An air of discomfort got mixed with the smell of our overpriced food. We didn’t want to see the rightful occupant of the seats just now. Our mouths were too filled to say much and the table was little dirty for their mineral bottles. With grace of hypothetical God no one joined us but this started a better dinner conversation.

We started talking on how people react when they see someone sitting on their reserved seat the moment they board. Discussion went on to the way they assert their right and other related topics. There is one kind who is always sweating. Journey has never been good to them and they have a phone waiting for them. They have to inform their kin and kiths about their safety and security the moment they can place themselves on their month ago reserved seat. The person is always well aware of his berth and coach but as soon as he finds someone on his place he takes out his ticket and reads to himself (only little louder than required) the printed seat number. “B 13...umm forty twooo.. forty three” ,he says to himself and looks at the person sitting. There are some who have a little resemblance to these ones but with a slight difference. As soon as they come close to their berth they start talking among themselves about the seat number they got. All should know, this is where we have the seat!!!Then come those who are coming to see off some of the ladies and they have higher responsibilities than Baba Ramdev might assign to himself. They are little more aggressive and they keep on instructing their well informed ladies about the seats by pointing their fingers and suggesting them the plans to sleep there at convenient time. They keep repeating instructions followed by “okay” in respective language and dialects and they ensure female reservation to be functioning at its best. Few fellows are meek and confused and I fall in the category on my better days. These poor creature would just stand for a while looking at the fellow, trying to realise the gravity of situation. They would fear the ones in waiting list and open to proposals to shift their berths in order to work out tedious permutations and combinations of families which got separated by Indian railway’s booking system. They would wait and watch and would share the seat of someone nearby uncomfortably. They have their nightmare if the intruder is already asleep and would start making strategies if the person happens to be a lady of a nearby berth year, in which case a gentleman is screwed between morals and imaginations.

However the people who are portrayed as worried here are not so pointless. Not long ago getting your own seat was not so easy. Often people had to share the space against their will. Often they had to try to sit in that place. Sometimes they had to fight to fit in their own seat and face the glare, had they shown any intentions to sleep. But things have gotten better these days. Now we respect reservations more than we used to earlier (smart comment??). Now journeys are better and more on time. Now we don’t have to fight to sit once we have our name on the chart and people who couldn’t get it that way are more polite than before. One of the ways we can see our progress as a society. Anyways I should not try to pile on this topic. But on a similar note I noticed that new coaches in train are not as much wall painted as earlier. Good for nation, bad for the bored pooping fellow.

Koi nahi yar.


Apart from doubtfully developing attitude, knowledge and skill (our college motto), I most certainly developed some of my never fading friendships during my TMI (Tolani Maritime Institute) time just like anyone else. With a close friendship inevitably flourish some jokes, some jargons, some looks and some feelings which have no meaning out of that confined group.
One such phrase took a breath in my never ending conversations with Deepak Jain (name published accidently) and stayed with us and with some more like us.

You see, we had a lot of problems with us and probably (most certainly) with me. Every now and then something would go wrong, or we would feel that it had gone wrong. I am not sure what started the phrase but I am assuming a bad (relative) grade might be one of the root causes. We would discuss the situation at length and finally one would say “koi nai yar”, and other (the one in problem), with a semi doomed semi understanding semi frustrated semi positive face, would come back with, “koi toh nahi hi”.

Paani poori




Every time when I eat a plate of “pani poori” in Mumbai I keep the bill for income tax purpose. Not only the price makes me cry but the unsatisfied tongue reminds me of Kanpur where people mastered in making wonderful pani poori( pani ke batashe actually) .I am sure other places in U.P. might also be equally competitive in this spicy industry. Every locality there has couple of grand masters of chat and batashe and they keep it cheap yet the best. In my childhood we could have 4 of them at a rupee and sometimes for even less.

A particular shop was known among its admirers as baba batashe wale. Baba himself appeared very unhygienic and people used to speculate about the occasions he would take a bath. Since he lived very near to my house and preferred a public bath, I had the opportunity to confirm that he took a bath almost as frequently as a gentleman would. However, somehow water never had desired effect on him and hence the dirty tales.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Awkward!! love it


Remember When you laughed with laughter track and your friend, who just like you missed the joke, asks you “what he said??” . The feeling of "what to do next?".

Among many other feelings, feeling awkward is somewhat underrated. It’s not the most beautiful love, it’s not the dreaded fear. It’s not the deep sadness or profound loneliness. It’s neither respected nor consoled. Neither enjoyed nor condemned. It stays alone, neglected.
awkwardly.

Having said so ,I can’t stress more that awkward moments are just around the corner. Anything and everything can become awkward like orange pants, if timing is right(or wrong??). your fun Punjabi ringtone buzzing at a wrong place, few drops of water wetting you pants absurdly, your style icon smoke clouding in front of long lost uncle, having a 500 rupee note for a metro ticket counter, your friend typing queen’s language on a chat when your mother is standing behind you, your recent items on computer, your recent SMS to your Ex. , your over reaction, your under reaction, your no reaction, your yes reaction, God the list is long!!! Everything can become awkward. Why hell, even appreciating SRK is awkward these days.

And yet it’s left alone. No poem for it, no songs...no likes on facebook ,no awww ,no oooo.

What follows awkward, is an equally awkward silence.