Civilian and Fighter Aircrafts on Road.

DISCLAIMER: This post is purely a fiction, any resemblance to dead or living is purely incidental. No offence meant to any lady or any man.


I have been living with aircrafts both at home and at my office; and I just so much love them.

The place where I live, my house actually a rented place, is very close to the city airport. Another big thing close by is the wind tunnel operated by National Aerospace Laboratory.

My work involves aircrafts too.

I love watching there giants of steel, these behemoths take to sky so easily and land on the landing strip so effortlessly. It is an amazing synched dance of man, metal and machine.

The brain of all the electronics, the effectiveness of all the machinery and the intelligence of the pilot, all with one motive to take to sky and be back all safe and comfortable.

I many a times find myself standing next to the airport boundary wall, with my mouth wide open amazed at the way an aircraft comes to taxiway, moves on the tarmac, and just like a bullet from a gun, shoots on the tarmac. The flaps are all down, the thunderous roar of the engines and as if the gravity fails for that just one split of seconds “Houston we have a lift off!” well take off actually. Sometimes I am lucky to see a MIG or a Jaguar put on its afterburner so that it can take off in the least distance and climb up fast and furious. The afterburners make their presence very much audible to people in atleast 3 Kms radius circle.

And not mention the wind tunnel which when active makes you feel as if there is a traffic jam on the landing strip and all the aircrafts are standing tail to tail, with their engines running waiting for that green signal, each one fighting for that one-upmanship for how loud one’s engines are. The whole neighborhood bears a look like wind has visited is visiting and will stay for quite some time.

“Kachik. Eagle 1 to base. Kachik”

“Kachik. Base to Eagle 1. Cleared to fly. Over Kachik”

“Kachik. Eagle 1 to base. Ok. Over Kachik”

“Kachik. Base to Eagle 1. Let us kick the tyre and light a fire. Good Hunting. Over. Kachik”

So now where does this lead to?

Well when you are obsessed about things, you kind of see them everywhere. And that is exactly what is happening to me. I see aircrafts or parts of it.

You must have had seen a lot many fair sex on two wheelers, zipping past on their Blaze, Scooty or Pleasure. What you might have also noticed but may not have had related is that whenever they slow down, like the needle on the speedometer touches sub 25 sub 30 Kmph levels, their landing gears come down. The gears are deployed unless the needle pulls up above this 20-30 mark. They will be deployed even if they travel like tens of kilometers at 15 Kmph.

As soon as the brakes are deployed, two legs come out from either side of the two wheeler, much like an aircrafts landing gear and stay on there. So if they stop the landing gears touch the tar, if not then they are still deployed as part of missed approach. Very much like a civilian aircrafts, safety foremost.

Guys on the other hand are like fighter jets. Vrooooom. Vroooooooooom. Honk Honk. Screech. Screech. The landing gears never come down until they are sure that they have to land. Just like fighters aircrafts which can skim the ground, fly as close as say 200-500 feet above the ground, guys will slow down and try to balance as long as they are allowed to and can manage. Their afterburner is their horn. Great maneuverability of zipping in left and right taking sharp turns just so very much like a fighter aircraft.

Glossary
Kachik : The sound made by pressing/releasing the TALK button of the wireless set.

The mosquito that never bites!

It has been a while since this thing is happening to me.


For these last so many ‘whiles’ everybody who has seen me at office, or friends at home or the neighborhood have been saying “Hey what’s up? You look so lost. Is everything Okay?”


And I nod in agreement, trying to say in part that I am still trying to figure out the answer to “What’s up?” as also in agreement that everything is okay and they needn’t be concerned or worried about anything in particular. It is sometimes really strange that something as simple as a nod in agreement is enough to put smiles on just so many faces.


But nevertheless.


So as I was saying, though I nod, for whatever reasons I might do that, I really don’t feel like everything is okay. I am regular at my office, productive with quality, a gregarious friend who calls/meets the friends neighbors all so often, but then something is wrong.


There is this ‘something’ which is going at the back of my mind and the worst part to come is that I don’t what it is. Only if I can figure out what this is I will be able to find a way to solve it and get rid of it. But alas, I am unable to comprehend what is it that’s bothering me? It is there I know. Whenever I am doing something, it runs in the background, just outside the cone of focus and as soon as I realize that there is this something and try to focus on it, it disappears. Like a grain of sand, you don’t know it is in your fist, but the moment you realize it is there and try to contain it in your fist, you just loose it.


It is so annoying and so irritating. Much more irritating than that mosquito, who incidentally never bites you or maybe you really do not care or notice that mosquitoes ever bite you, but hovers around you ear with that “Bhiiiiiinnnnnnnn…….. Bhiiiiiinnnnnnnn……..” sound and the room is dark and you cannot squeeze the pulp out of him by grabbing in your first and tightening the embrace; and worst of you all you are very sleepy after a day’s long work!
Sometime I feel I am better off having this unhandled trace of thought running in background as a zombie than to try to fight that mosquito.

Mutual Screwing... I screw you... You screw me...

It is a vicious circle; more of co-habitation because of lack of options rather than consensual.

And just why is it a circle? Well what goes around comes around. I screw you, you screw me, simple.

The only difference being that the ‘I’ here has the option of screwing this or that, one among the many (well in many cases one amongst atleast two). But the ‘You’ here does not have that choice of whom he/she/it might choose. There is there only instance of ‘I’ available here. So whose is the one who gets the pleasure or say pain of getting screwed every so often? No prizes for guessing the answer. It is the deplorable ‘I’ here.

Now you guys must be wondering who is the ‘I’ here and who is the ‘You’ here. The ‘I’ here is the crowd, the common people, the aam junta ( the mango people), who choose the ‘You’ here which are the politicians, the corporators, the bureaucrats, the local municipality etc. So you see the ‘I’ here has many options to select from and to who takes the seat, gaddi, of power and screw them. The ‘You’ doesn’t have that luxury hence the ‘I’ has dilated muscles and you know where.

By now I am sure you guys won’t leave me alone until I (this is the real me and not the ‘I’ here) tell you where does this whole theory comes from.

Take an example.

The citizens choose the government, let’s be limited to the local government. Then the citizens ask for improvement of basic infrastructure, basic amenities, parks, clean drinking water, decent walk able footpaths, trees on the sides of the road. Essentially screwing the government, making it do thing which are most likely on the lest priority list; they being busy with milching the citizens, the government machinery to get wot not, trying to do as many nonsensical gymnastics with the law, rules so as to make sure that they get an assured chance the next time they get to the polls.

So this in part explains the ‘I’ screw ‘You’.

Of the many ways the ‘I’ screws ‘You’ (leave the Kamsutra aside) let us focus on one "trees on the sides of the roads footpaths". Now it is the time for the ‘You’ come back and screw the ‘I’. So they plant the trees with the rusted tree guards to guard them when God only knows how long the guards themselves can live the beat of the weather. And just what do they plant? Coconut trees! The ‘I’ here is happy, takes comfort in the pleasure. But the pain follows not too late. The trees grow, the coconuts hang from the tree, ripe full with the coconut milk. Then one day an ‘I’ is on the footpath walking his/her way home, or to where he/she is heading to and BANG! There falls a coconut and the nut is split open in the two halves; both the coconut and the head of this ‘I’.

So this in part explains the ‘You’ screw ‘I’.

Many may argue, "statistics prove that the probability of a falling coconut hitting a person is as low as nothingth of nothing*". Well how many times do we really get to hear from a person explaining that the hump on this head is a result of a coconut falling on him; nothingth of nothing* times! Just because no crimes are logged with the police department does that really mean the area is crime free? Not really.

But then who am I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) to say anything. Both the ‘You’ and ‘I’ are happy and satiated. The max I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) can do is make sure I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) choose the ‘You’ who can screw me in less number of ways or not screw to the ‘You’ and expect the same favor in return.

* Inspiration (Anu Malik's style) from Douglas Adams "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"

My, Myself, My Poems!!!

woh hume tarka ke chal diye,
bole kaam hai jana hai.
hum intezaar main baithe hain ,
sadiyaan guzar gayin.
unki tasveer bhi dundhli ho gayi;
voh aayenge isi intezaar main hum,
apani baaki zindagi jee lenge.

Two friends, one father of a new born baby girl, one still single

beti ki sewa main raat aur din dono barabar!
woh uska raat main uthna,
madhur hi awaaz main kutch kahan
humara na sun pana
uska rona
beech raat mera main uthna
zombie ki tarah apne hi ghar main anjaan sa ghoomna
kisi tarah kitchen main pahunch kar doodh garam karna
Office se thake hue ghar aana
beti ko bahon me leke jaise sansaar ka sara sukh sara aanand paan

In sab ka mujhe intezaar hai

What wierd poems?

What wierd Poet?