Month: August 2018

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Controlled Estimation.

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Controlled estimation are two words which are not spoken often together but they go hand in hand. Their biggest examples are suitcases. While going on any international trip, a family of three are allowed to carry 115 kgs of luggage or more. So while packing the bags, the person who packs the bag has to make a controlled estimation, that whether the suitcases are getting heavier or not.My dad often used to pack our suitcases and he would be constantly checking it’s weight to see whether it was over weight or not and at the moment the weighing scale showed that the bag’s weight had reached the maximum weight it could carry out, dad would close the suitcase and start packing another one.

A bakery chef while preparing a cake has to make extremely careful calculations regarding the ingredients of his cake or other wise it would be a down hill road for him.Many times while they are in a hurry or under immense pressure to make a huge number of orders, they make controlled estimations of the amount of yeast, flour,oil,etc, and of the rest of the ingredients to be used to make the bakery products such as cakes,breads, etc.

We all use controlled estimations every now and then in our lives without realizing it.

A bowler while bowling has to make a lot of controlled and precise estimations, to keep the batsman from scoring runs and his final goal is to take the batsman’s wicket as soon as possible or the batsman would be having a field day on the field.

It is always better to use controlled estimations than uncontrolled ones, as anything which is out of control or uncontrolled always tend to get out of hand, much before anyone can say snap.

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THE MOODY RICKSHAW WALA.

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At that time, we used to live in Kolkata.My friend had invited me and ma for lunch one afternoon. To reach his house, one has to get down at a particular locality and then take a cycle rickshaw from there to reach his house. So, after getting down from the bus at that particular locality, we took a cycle rickshaw and started our journey towards my friend’s house. We saw that the traffic was medium and not too heavy.The roads also were quite empty.So we assumed that it would be a smooth journey.

For some distance the rickshaw wala drove the cycle rickshaw properly. Then suddenly the rickshaw wala swerved his rickshaw towards right and then he again swerved towards left side.I asked him-“Why are you swerving the rickshaw so hard?”

He replied-“Babu, I have to take care that the oncoming vehicles do not cross my path and I also need to avoid the potholes.”

Truth be told, neither there were any incoming vehicles nor were there any potholes on the road.He was simply making it all up.

Me-“I have sweet curd(misti doi) with me.Please drive the rickshaw smoothly or else my sweet curd shall spill out of the earthen container.”

The rickshaw driver-“Don’t worry babu, I won’t allow the misti doi to be spilled.You just watch my smooth and comfortable driving”. Saying so, he started swerving  even more harder and with that he was incessantly honking with blow horn which was going on like-paan puu. paan puu,and with his each swerve he was taking near to each and every vehicle on the road and all the vehicle drivers were looking at us questionably.Once we had nearly even reached the skin of the state bus that was coming from the opposite directions.

His blow horn was causing such a noise pollution that we are lucky that our ears are still hearing and with the swiftness of a turtle he would swerve hard right and then suddenly he would swerve hard towards the left side.

Me and ma, we both had thought that our ride would be a smooth one, but it turned out to be such a miscalculated and disgruntling ride that we both were sorely disappointed with it. When we reached our friends house, I asked the rickshaw wala that how much was the fare? He replied-“twenty rupees”.

Me-“Twenty rupees is too much for such a shaky ride.Make it ten.”

Rickshaw wala-“No, babu with ten rupees what shall be my profit? No rickshaw wala shall bring you this distance for ten rupees.”

I paid him twenty rupees and at that time my friend came out of his house and on seeing my grumpy face he asked me what the matter was.

I told him that the rickshaw wala was swerving left and right continuously and was not listening to our requests..

After hearing me,my friend commented-“He must be a chess player”.

Me-“You sit in his damned to hell rickshaw once and see what sorts of a chess player he his.He will check mate you much before you say-“check” “.

My friend-“I wouldn’t sit in such a rickshaw ever.I would ask the rickshaw wala before hand that- are you a chess player? If he says yes then I will not get on that rickshaw ever.”

Me-“It is easier said than done”.

We went inside his house and then we had a sumptuous lunch.

While going back, I pondered over my friends comment and came to the conclusion that he was right.But I had an addition to make.That rickshaw wala was definitely a chess player, but he was a drunkard too.

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THE ASTROLOGY BLESSED BY PUMPKIN.

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A man used to live off in a far away village. Twice a week he would go to the market and sell his produce.He had a small farmland and there he cultivated many vegetables in lesser quantities and sold them in the city. This time, he had grown brinjals and a pumpkin four times the size of a football and taking all his vegetables with him in a vegetable basket, he sat on a city bus. After two hours he reached the city.While he was getting down from the bus, he saw that an astrologer was sitting at the bus depot, with a board put up-“best astrologer is available here”. That man instead of walking towards the city market went straight to the astrologer and asked him-“sir, how much will you charge me,if you do an astrological prediction for me?”

The astrologer-“Five rupees.”

The vegetable seller-“Five rupees!”

The astrologer-“Fine, you don’t have to pay anything right now.If my prediction comes true, then while going back to your home, pay me my fees.”

The vegetable seller-“That sounds good to me.Please tell me my future.”

The astrologer took a good look at the vegetable seller’s palm with his magnifying glass and then he grimly told him-” you shall be able to sell your brinjals today, but your pumpkin shall remain unsold.”

The vegetable seller-“But sir, that is nearly not possible.I have been able to sell the pumpkins each and everytime before.”

The astrologer-“previously, you had been able to sell the pumpkins, but this time you won’t be able to.”

The vegetable seller-“I will definitely sell the pumpkin.”

The astrologer-“My prediction, shall come true, you will see”.

The vegetable seller then took leave of the astrologer and while leaving he told the astrologer that if his prediction came true, then he would definitely pay him five rupees.The astrologer did not reply and kept quite.

With that heavy basket on his head, the vegetable seller went towards the market and sat down at his spot.The place where he used to sit had no roof coverings, so the bright morning sun would fry his bald head quite nicely and sweat drops would continuously be trickling down the sides of his cheeks.

After half an hour or so, a man came and bought his brinjals.

The vegetable seller-“Sir, would you like to buy the pumpkin as well? It’s fresh and quite big in size.”

The man-“No, I don’t need any pumpkin today. I had it yesterday.” Saying so the man went away leaving him all perspiring with his sole pumpkin.”

Like this two hours passed.None came forward to buy his pumpkin.

He waited till two in the afternoon and then he had his lunch of two rotis and a banana.

Till four he sat there, trying to sell the pumpkin, but none came forward.

Then he decided to go home and kept five rupees in his pocket, to pay the astrologer.

But the astrologer was not there! The vegetable seller searched for him here and there at the bus depot and finally when couldn’t find him, he went and sat on the bus back home.

He reached his home.On seeing him enter with the pumpkin, his wife started shouting at him-“you have bought the pumpkin back? Why haven’t you sold it?”

He then told his wife about everything that had happened.

Wife-“Why did you consult that astrologer?What was the need?”

The vegetable seller-“I felt the need to know my future”.

Wife-“When he told you that the pumpkin would remain unsold, you should have given it to him.Even we can’t cook this at home as it has been crossed by the astrologer.”

The vegetable seller-“What! give it to him? It is I who harvest them, cultivate them, sell them under the roaring and blistering sun and you ask me to give it to that astrologer in lieu of five rupees? Never.”

Wife-“Then what shall I do with this huge pumpkin?”

The vegetable seller-“Keep it in the kitchen.”

The wife kept it in the kitchen.

Nearly after a week, the pumpkin started rotting.The wife reminded the husband that his pumpkin was rotting away. The vegetable seller asked his wife to throw it away.

Wife-“It is quite huge and I shall require your help.The farmer took it in a big basket and threw it at the corner of his small farmland.

Small pumpkin saplings came out and they covered nearly the whole farmland and they gave a good harvest. The whole field was half full with blooming pumpkins and this time he didn’t let them grow into a big ones. He cut them while they were of medium size. Many of his farmer friends came to see his pumpkin harvest and he sold them off in the city market very easily and had a lump sum profit from it, but the astrologer was never seen again.

With his profit money he bought a good dog to protect his farm, from intruders and birds.

On a market day, he while selling his pumpkins, the astrologer happened to be in front of him. Now he was not in his orange robe, but in a t-shirt and pant like a city babu.

He greeted the farmer -“Hello.” The farmer instantly took out five rupees and said “sir where were you so many days?”

The astrologer-“I was busy predicting in other towns.I don’t need five rupees.Please, give me two pumpkins”.

The farmer-“Why are you not taking money? It’s not a good omen.Please, tell me sir.”

The astrologer-“My charges are more now.It is ten rupees and I am not doing any predictions for you right now, because you are already predicted.”

The farmer-“Sir as you do not assure me of my good future,I will be in a mental hazard and above all my wife will ask me if I don’t pay you.”

The astrologer-“But my wife will be very happy if you give me two pumpkins as gift.”

The farmer did the same and thought about changing his selling place to some other where.

OOF! THE FUTURE PUMPKINS AND THE BRINJALS AND THE TOMATOES AND GREEN CHILLIES!!

THANKS THE VEGETABLES.

 

Adios!

The Parisian.
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The Parisian.

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Long time back I had met a Parisian.He was from Normandy, France.What actually had happened was that, his dad had got transferred to the city where my dad had got a new job and they were not able to get him admitted to any other school other than mine. At that time I was also a late transfer to the school and he came maybe three or four weeks after me.

We both were in an awkward position , as the whole class section was ahead of us and we both were lacking behind by weeks and months.The class teacher got him placed beside me and at the first break we both had a conversation.

I asked him -“new to the city?”

He replied-“yeah”

His dialect, his accent was completely different and I had not heard anything as such before.

I replied-“I  am new to this city as well.Just came here a month back.”

He-“Where are you from?”

I-“India.You are from which part of the world?”

He-“Paris”.

I-‘That’s a very nice city.”

He-“That it is.”

I-“So, till now you studied in Paris?”

He-“No, I studied in Normandy, both my mom and dad are from there”.

I-“But, you said that you were from Paris?”.

He-“I was born in Paris and when I was five years old, we shifted to Normandy and we were there till now.”

I-“Oh”.

The recess bell rang and after that we didn’t get much time to speak with each other.

Next day, we had a free playing period .While we were going to the playground, he came and spoke with me.

He-“You know I really miss Paris.I like it there more than any other place and even dad’s missing it now.Yesterday he told us that he was trying to shift us back to France and I really hope that it happens.”

I-“Best of luck.”

He-“Thanks.”

He-“You know, I like to think myself as a Parisian”.

Me-“What is a Parisian?”

He-“A person who belongs to Paris.”

Me-“That you definitely are”.

He-“Yes”

Then we played cricket for an hour.I taught him the basic rules of it and he did a good job of batting.

After a week he left the school as his dad had been successful in shifting his job back to France.

I don’t remember his name, but he told me that he was a “Parisian”, that I remember clearly.

It is sometimes so surprising that life brings people from different continents, countries and regions in front of us. The one thing that I learnt that wherever you maybe from, if you have a good heart, then all the basic emotions remain the same.

Adios!

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The Swing.

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When my ma was young, she used to live in Kolkata. She was then eight-nine years old. My grandfather had got a big nice strong rope, which is generally used to pull heavy objects and thus they are quite strong. There was a ceiling hook on the verandah and he attached the rope to it and on the lower end of the rope he tied the rope to a wooden plank, thus making it a homemade swing. In those days pollution was very less and natural air used to flow like it should flow.

Ma would often sit on the swing and have a go on it. It would help her refresh her mind and even sometimes the swinging would be her gateway to the beautiful dreamlands and fairylands.

Now for a week or two, a rumour had been going on in ma’s school that a tumultuous and super-difficult class test would be held soon. None of the teachers had confirmed it.

Then suddenly pulling a bluemoonish act, the mathematics and science teachers respectively told the whole class in their serious, heavy and melancholy baritone- “students, a twenty marks class test would be held tomorrow and the day after at ten o’clock.Be prepared or else parents shall be called”. On hearing this announcement nearly each and every student was shivering with anxiety and fear. They had not been given a days time to practice for the test! Tomorrow means tomorrow.

Now you all please tell me that which teacher holds a big class test without giving students time to study?

Ma went home anxious that day and when she reached her home what does she see? Her paternal aunts and cousins, who stay in a far away state in India, have come to her house and they would be staying for three days.The class tests would be held for two consecutive days.

She went straight to her mom and told her about the class tests.

Ma-“Ma tomorrow and day after tomorrow two big and serious class test would be held”.

Ma’s ma-“Not to worry.You will definitely score full marks in both the tests.”

Ma-“Ma, where shall I study?”

(Ma’s cousins were actually kids aged five-six years and they would create a racket day in and day out).

My grandmother solved the problem instantaneously.

Ma’s ma-“You shall study on the swing and make me and your father proud.”

Immediately freshened up, had her evening snacks and straight she went to the swing and while having swings on it she kept on studying. First she studied those gruesome maths problems and then she studied the heavyweight science chapters.

First the mathematics examination was held and the next day the science papers were held.

As an extremely proud son I am writing the very fact that she got twenty out of twenty in both the tests and not only that.She had studied those subjects throughout the night and that too under a halogen bulb and without any fan.

When ma had given final Tenth board exams i.e. the Higher Secondary Exams, she had studied for LOGIC throughout the night and had scored 80/100, despite having written the paper correct completely. She had got star marks in her logic paper.

She was and is a teacher and the very best. It’s a students privilege to learn from her and I am an extremely proud son of her.

It is those small things such as the swing that makes life wonderful and bright. There is true happiness to be found if you can cultivate it.Even if you have to cultivate it out of thin air.