Saturday, April 02, 2005
SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
Returned to the terminal after having listened to a pressure cooker whistle, painfully counted to five and then turned the stove off, acting faithfully to my mother’s instructions. That’s what a calm mind, a fine intellect and a discerning perspective can accomplish—if we set our minds to it.
Also hopped off to the doctor’s place today, who stated what I’ve suspected all along, I need sorcery, I mean surgery. The trouble is, until then, I have to live off colourful capsules, and variety of other drugs which will addle my clogged brain still further. I’m waiting—might get a Kubla Khan recited to me. ( I know I’ll have to wake up then ).
Have waited for a long time to adduce what could change the face of the Earth as we know it.
It’s a known occurrence,at least in India, that people shove, jostle, shoulder-push ( which is just as ungainly and unsettling as a regular push, but because it is demonstrated on heavenly lands where the Great Game of Football is played, it acquires a holy halo ) , smooth-talk and slime their way for everything, it can be disconcerting to view this rather plebian visual spectacle when a flight lands, despite the earnest entreaties of the attendants. I am not able to place a finger on why this should worry me so much, where I am perfectly accustomed to this elsewhere.
Will let this other nuisance of “Hello—yes, yes, the plane has just arrived, I have landed in ####, I am at the airport” confabulation in all the 832 dialects of India , ignoring the attendant’s warning to keep that infernal phones off rest for the moment. After all, where else could the caller be after taking a flight—in Shivaji Park, atop a local train, or Madh Island ? Beats me, anyway…
Returning to the thesis findings and conclusions.
The assumptions are that—it is a heterogeneous flight with no handicapped passengers, the entire load can be accommodated in a single batch, and passengers have no more than the ordinary dosages of chicanery, and Huganay-esque predilections.
( Assumptions are for mathematical elegance and classical simplicity )
Perhaps those who shove, j., s-p., s-t. & s. their way, fitfully forget ( or ignore, I know not) that merely getting to be the first off the craft is not enough, cos’ there is invariably a bus that halts peacefully to carry the heathen to the nearest orifice for a process called “ disembarkation” –I’m sure that this hideous word is not in the OED. Right, so passengers get off the flight into the waiting bus. Now observe carefully, since this is not the meritocratic of places, unlike a ST bus, local train, or a six-seater, those who get in have to waddle with their wares into the interiors of this stated bus. And those flagrant ones who enter later will balefully stare at those who get seats on the vehicle and stand next to the battery-operated door.
Now, after taking about two hours to traverse a distance of a hundred metres, this vehicle comes to a screeching halt at the above-mentioned orifice, where, Now Look Here, the person who got into the bus last, “ disembarks” first. Which means the careless swagger and indifference of the last boarder was rewarded, where the ill-intentioned shenanigans of those who s., j. s-p., s-t. and s. were not. Which means those lose actually win. Which means, the plaintive edicts of a million mothers to unwilling children, is defied openly. Which means, the world as we know it, changes, nay, transforms.
The answer to the Life, Universe and Everything Else remains 42 .
(Ed- What is the question ?)
Yeh manzilein hain kaun si, na who samajh sake na hum
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Returned to the terminal after having listened to a pressure cooker whistle, painfully counted to five and then turned the stove off, acting faithfully to my mother’s instructions. That’s what a calm mind, a fine intellect and a discerning perspective can accomplish—if we set our minds to it.
Also hopped off to the doctor’s place today, who stated what I’ve suspected all along, I need sorcery, I mean surgery. The trouble is, until then, I have to live off colourful capsules, and variety of other drugs which will addle my clogged brain still further. I’m waiting—might get a Kubla Khan recited to me. ( I know I’ll have to wake up then ).
Have waited for a long time to adduce what could change the face of the Earth as we know it.
It’s a known occurrence,at least in India, that people shove, jostle, shoulder-push ( which is just as ungainly and unsettling as a regular push, but because it is demonstrated on heavenly lands where the Great Game of Football is played, it acquires a holy halo ) , smooth-talk and slime their way for everything, it can be disconcerting to view this rather plebian visual spectacle when a flight lands, despite the earnest entreaties of the attendants. I am not able to place a finger on why this should worry me so much, where I am perfectly accustomed to this elsewhere.
Will let this other nuisance of “Hello—yes, yes, the plane has just arrived, I have landed in ####, I am at the airport” confabulation in all the 832 dialects of India , ignoring the attendant’s warning to keep that infernal phones off rest for the moment. After all, where else could the caller be after taking a flight—in Shivaji Park, atop a local train, or Madh Island ? Beats me, anyway…
Returning to the thesis findings and conclusions.
The assumptions are that—it is a heterogeneous flight with no handicapped passengers, the entire load can be accommodated in a single batch, and passengers have no more than the ordinary dosages of chicanery, and Huganay-esque predilections.
( Assumptions are for mathematical elegance and classical simplicity )
Perhaps those who shove, j., s-p., s-t. & s. their way, fitfully forget ( or ignore, I know not) that merely getting to be the first off the craft is not enough, cos’ there is invariably a bus that halts peacefully to carry the heathen to the nearest orifice for a process called “ disembarkation” –I’m sure that this hideous word is not in the OED. Right, so passengers get off the flight into the waiting bus. Now observe carefully, since this is not the meritocratic of places, unlike a ST bus, local train, or a six-seater, those who get in have to waddle with their wares into the interiors of this stated bus. And those flagrant ones who enter later will balefully stare at those who get seats on the vehicle and stand next to the battery-operated door.
Now, after taking about two hours to traverse a distance of a hundred metres, this vehicle comes to a screeching halt at the above-mentioned orifice, where, Now Look Here, the person who got into the bus last, “ disembarks” first. Which means the careless swagger and indifference of the last boarder was rewarded, where the ill-intentioned shenanigans of those who s., j. s-p., s-t. and s. were not. Which means those lose actually win. Which means, the plaintive edicts of a million mothers to unwilling children, is defied openly. Which means, the world as we know it, changes, nay, transforms.
The answer to the Life, Universe and Everything Else remains 42 .
(Ed- What is the question ?)
Yeh manzilein hain kaun si, na who samajh sake na hum
