The Cynic Rant

Thursday, August 12, 2010

The Dirty Old Geyser

Have you ever wondered what goes into a Storage Water Heater, or commonly known as a Geyser? I hadn't... until I got to find out first hand recently.

It was only a matter of getting the damn thing to work again and get some hot water like every other day. So a the beginning we knew it could only be one of 2 things. Either the thermostat (the thermometer like device that cuts off power when temperature reaches a set limit) or the heating coil itself would be faulty.

We quickly eliminate the thermostat as the culprit since the circuit was not broken anywhere and both the lights were ON. So then, it had to be the coil. Great!! We now know what's wrong. We also know what needs to be done. Should not be more than a 10 minute job to change the coil.

Or so we thought.....

Maybe this would be a good time to provide some background info on the "geyser". Born about 8 - 9 years ago somewhere in the factory and named under the brand "Arman", this geyser has served us well. It has undergone a few house shifting experiences and about 2 coil changes in this period. Not to mention that it has also had it's belly cleaned once or twice, thanks to the borewell water used in it all it's life.

Now then, we got a coil from the maket. Good. The ratings match and so do the grooves for the bolts to hold it in place. Very Good.

Next step, remove the faulty coil:

All that had to be done was to remove 3 nuts and voila - a shower of 20 L of water and the coil should be out. Only, the latter did not happen. Now there's something else that needs to be known about the coil. The coil, like any other heating rod that is used to heat water, is just one rod going in a "U" to complete the circuit. It just so happens, that the old rod had gone from a U to a V. The rod goes throught a small hole in the cylinder that contains the water and has just enough space to move in or out. With the U to V situation, the rod would just not come out.

What do you do??

You have to bring the damn thing down and open it all up, fit the new rod and put it back again. And pray that you fit it properly so the water does not leak and the geyser does not blow up.

During this exercise (ofcourse, there was a "qualified" electrician working on it too) I found out what the insulating material is made of... Glass Fibres.

Literally, fine fibres of glass put together. It looks just like a lot of cotton is stuffed in... but the damn thing is so sharp. Even a dust particle cuts and it stings for a day or two. I did feel like a bloody used pincushion. LITERALLY!!

I have to say though, I now know what all goes into assembling a geyser and can take one apart and put it back together pretty well.

Well, the 2 hour exercise paid off. The geyser now works just fine. Only, I don't think it can survive another operation.

Next break down.... May it rest in peace!!!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Me, ridiculous

Picture this scene:

A bus journey within the city at times approaching peak hour. The bus is fairly full given that time of the day. I am part of the passengers on that bus. I do not have my music player with me and so the only thing other than falling asleep is to look around. Within the bus and outside.

Now that I have "painted" that picture: I, being the judgemental (this I'm very confident of) and cynical (people who have not spent a great deal of time with me will also agree), happen to observe what the other passengers do when they travel. As do everyone, you'll say! I agree.

But I find that there are more things that disturb me (well, make my face cringe would be a better way to put it, but alas) than those that are appreciable. Now of course, there are those who will say that I make it my job to find fault and pass comments and I must say, they do so with good reason. The point is that I make up jokes in my head, at the cost of the remaining population - it goes without saying.

Sometimes I feel that it's such a waste of time. This may the only part you agree with. Here's why: What's the point of me coming up with such "smart" things if the only one that can appreciate it or say "yeah right, what were you thinking you idiot?" is me?

Why do I not use this time to do some reflection:

Mainly because then I would just be refreshing all the lacunae in me. Well, I already know about them and have decided that these are what make me ME!!

Why do I not read:

In a bus on the local route?? At peak hour?? I don't board an empty bus at the starting point you know!!

And so on an so forth... There are always excuses. Even if I did do any of these things or anything else productive, it would still be me thinking up ridiculous things in my head!!

I just hope that growing up does not mean leaving behind ALL of the immaturity. Cos if that is what it means, it also means that I am not capable of growing up!

Adios, dreams of everyone who want me to grow up. You shall remain dreams indeed.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Faith and I

What is it that keeps you anchored? That keeps the hope within for better things alive? The only answer, to such questions, that I hear ringing from the depths of my innerself is always FAITH.

Or is it that this is all I know? That things will improve and there is only one thing to do and that is to keep trying.

I am a firm believer in the teaching of the Bhagavadgita. At least the portion that I know. Big fan of "Karmanya vaadhikaaraste......" I myself sometimes feel like a boyscout when I think of actually trying to tell someone to just get on with their work and not worry about anything else. So, naturally, I take the easy way out. If you haven't guessed it already, I don't tell people such things. I'm sometimes known to get a bit philosophical (completely unsolicited ofcourse) and am told to shut up.

It is sometimes, OK OK.. most of the time, difficult to stay firm, not waiver. But then again, isn't that what faith is all about? I have seen miracles happen on a daily basis. The details are not something that I will go in to right now (may be 10 years down the line, if memory serves). There is ofcourse the definition of a miracle.

I would define it as an event that you would not have logically thought can happen. There are various scales of miracles obviously, ranging right from the parting of the sea to the change of a mind. But what I have come to realise is that everyone is not able to perceive that one has happened. I have come to the realisation only after a lot of time has elapsed after such events. And believe you me, it has helped me grow. I am ever grateful for all that I have and all that I have experienced, both good and bad.

It has helped me not only grow stronger but also has deepened my faith. In what, you may ask. In god, myself and the fact that there is always purpose to anything that happens. And that the purpose is always the greater good.

I may sound like a Book of Moral Stories but that is how I feel. I have always wanted to help others. But there is this nagging feeling of procrastination or being judgemental or looking at the benefits or sometimes all the above and some more. I do help out wherever possible but when there are moments of spontaneity where there is an opportunity to just get up and help, I find myself just standing / sitting there, looking, knowing that someone else will do it.

Inspite of the various times that I have experienced the sharp pangs of my own conscience asking me "You happy now, jackass?" I seem to be unable to do much about it. Yes, very consciously, I have begun to make amends to this kind of behaviour (I'm sure there's a pretentious name to that also) but I still find myself lacking.

Well, there's always the "Not something I should be bothered about" attitude that instantaneously tries to cheer me up. Hard to keep that at bay I tell you.

Anyway, back to the main topic of my rant, Faith. What kind of world would we live in if everyone had some faith and not questioned every motive or result? Not a very interesting one I guess. Is it just because I'm young and capable of bearing a bit more, mainly because I think there's a lot of time before I kick the bucket or simply have more responsibilities to tend to, I'm able to keep the faith?

Will I be able to do so in maybe 20 years if I am faced with tough times? Will I then, with the "burden" of responsibilities, be able smile at tough situations and say "It's all for the better"? Knowing that in the process there are other people being affected as dearly as dear they are to me?

I can all but say a prayer and hope that the goodness (whatever is left) remains. That I be good and be of some help to those who have none. I wish not to be remembered as a good human but just not to be remembered as bad one.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Placebo Effect

Belief is such a strangely straightforward concept. Although not very comprehendable by most, the concept works. More so, the blinder the belief the stronger the effects.

It's true, there is a reason people with a positive attitude do better in life. It's not just the attitude, it is a belief. A belief that good things will happen. A belief that one will be successful in any venture, when they begin. I'm sure that when Lord Krishna said "Only do your duty and bother not about the results" he certainly meant for us to work with a belief. I think, personally, that he meant "Believe that you shall succeed. Worry not about the result but about your work."

Quite simple, ain't it? You concentrate more on the work rather than the result and you obviously tend to do a better job. You do a good job of it and quite obviously, the result will be good. Again, my digression deviates.

Then there are other things, like the placebo effect. I'm sure we all have and know people who have their own "understanding" of symptoms and medicines. Some people cannot tolerate medicine. Some cannot live without them. And then ofcourse, there are those "normal" people who don't mind medicines "whenever required". Sorry, "too many quotes".

Vitamins are a simple example. I have serious doubts about the homeopathic pills that the doctors prescribe. All them, to me, seem like sugarcoated balls dipped in different flavours of alcohol. So you feel it when you eat them and then the energy released by more than normal direct intake of sugar. Can they really differentiate these "drugs"?

When a homeopathy doctor was asked what would happen if a child, by mistake, ate too many of those sweet candy-like pills, he just said "Give the child some strong decoction of coffee (black coffee) and the effect will just wear out". Hmmmm, what is it that people generally go to when they've had one drink too many?? Strong coffee?? No, really?

I must say, the homeopathy drugs do work. I have seen a lot of my family members "cured" of chronic diseases like dust allergy, mouth ulcers (which are, like, hereditary in my family) with these sweet pills. No special diets, no extra work required, nothing. Just pop a few pills everyday (and they're sweet) and you're fine.

I on the other hand believe that the body has capacities of self healing. Slow for some fast for some. I seem to have a recovery rate faster than others. At least compared to those people I know. So every time I'm unwell, I abstain from medication. Proper diet is the only thing required to get me back to good health. It just so happens that I have "developed" allergies for some things. Fruits - a very specific few.

I have recently discovered, not by any blood test or allergy test, that my system does not like raw and direct intakes of banana, mango, cheekoo and butterfruit. They seem to get outright rejected by my digestive system the moment I consume these. When told, my parents dismissed the idea immediately and said "you must've eaten something else". Maybe so I thought. Until the next time the same thing happened.

Then I was told that it is all psychological. I begged to disagree. I have been eating these all these years and never had any reaction. Why would I suddenly not want to have them? I even like the taste, for crying out loud. It was only after I had a very uncomfortable night in Hyderabad after eating butter fruit and my mom was scared out of her wits (we were alone in a different city, apparently), that they now have come to terms with it and accept that there is a possibility for such things to happen.

15 minutes was all it took. That retching feeling in my stomach was all to familiar. 45 mins later I was fine. Ofcourse, I had to oust the intruders in my system first. This, I can very confidently say, is not a Placebo Effect.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Even in this day and age??

Strange - is probably what comes to your mind when you look at the title for this post. If this was just the subject on your mail and you had not yet opened it, you might even have wondered where this would lead.

Something similar was going through my mind yesterday, sometime in the afternoon. I had gone in search of large AND visually pleasant box files with ring binder system for a document that had to be dispatched the same evening (by courier, mind you). When I say "document", I mean a report of about 800 pages. Yes, that's a large document to just up and send.

Anyway, I had to meet the courier deadline of about 5.30 PM (for collection at office) and was still without the box file where all those nice colourful printed sheets lying on my table would go. I went to a Reliance "shop", as I was told to, to look for these strangely unheard of items. It did not come as a very big surprise that they did not have these or the idea of what such things may be. You'd think that is the limit. For a pan India chain that claims to do everything on a larger-than-life scale, this humungous centrally airconditioned mall in the middle of Cunningham Road did not have much within. Ofcourse, they were able to cater to the other demands like movies, music etc.

To top it all, no one there even had an idea where I'd be able to find one of these. Encouraging, I thought. One of the advantages of being a "local", you know which part of town to go to find things. So I decided that the only place that will be any help is Avenue Road. (yeah, that's right. Avenue and Road) Memories of childhood, school and college came flooding back. How we used to go here every year to buys books, stationary et al at more or less wholesale prices. My aunt used to chide my mother on how she was able to get a better deal for the books, thanks to her sharpened bargain skills. Then were those days of first year engineering when I'd bought second hand books (it was almost a crime to buy new ones, don't know how it is now). Ofcourse, then I attended college at found even those second hand books to be a waste of time. Come to think of it, I was already saving paper, back in the nascent years of undergraduation.

Enough digression and reminiscence, not to mention deviation, the point was that I was trying to get to Ave. Road by auto, if only I could persuade one of those of the fare race to take me. Turns out that none of them wants to go in that direction. You may have noticed that it's pretty much within the CBD between the two places. Time - 5.15 PM.

I was standing there, not losing hope. There are hundreds of these 3 wheeled blood sucking death machines going around the city, I'll find one willing to - said I. Just then, I saw a hand wave at me, asking me to come over. It was a man on a 2 wheeler, completely unidentifiable with a large black egg for a head. I looked around, as to say ME?. The hand waves again. I walk over to the stranger, thinking that he probably wants to ask me some address. But then again, there are loads of these death drivers around and they'd be a better bet at knowing places than some random guy on the street. So then, why me?

"Where you want to go?" comes a muffled voice from within the black egg. Why do you want to know? was the scream in my head, which I stifled. "Avenue Road" I told him warily. "Come, I'll drop you off. I'm going that way" he says. I thought I didn't hear him right. Was it possible that a complete stranger was offering to help some random guy on the street? Without any ulterior motive? This was not even a movie. Why would he do something like that?

By now you have realised that I'm way too paranoid and the line of thought my mind chooses to such situations. But I have, till date, somehow managed to put a lid on such things and think objectively. Hence, I am.

So there I am, running out of time, uncertain that what I want will be available off-the-shelf (yes, IT'S ONLY BOX FILE. But the reactions that the store keeper gave me put that thought in my head). I'm not able to find public transport to reach there within time and here's this strange man offering to drop me, just cause he saw me asking a few of these death drivers. What do you do?

Yes, Please!! is what you say and hop on. 'Tis exactly what I did. So here I am, never taken or given a lift to anyone on the streed my whole life, riding pillion with some guy who offered to help. So I tell him that I'm in a hurry and have to send out a courier today and blah blah blah, to which he just nods his head. We get there within about 10 mins or so. I stop him, thank him and he just drives off. I was left impressed and, I have to admit, a bit envious that someone just did that and rode off. This seemingly selfless act (yes, hence the title of my blog) left me dumbfounded for a minute.

I still wonder, why he would do that. Would I be able to do that? Will I ever just stop, not be paranoid, and help someone out in distress without making excuses of priority and enough-problems-of-my-own? I think I know the answer to these questions today. But 5 years down the line may be a different me, you can hope for it. Ummeed pe duniya jo tiki hai!!

I did , however, manage to find the type of file I wanted, not in white unfortunately, and send off the courier. I then realised that the courier had cost enough to fly a person to Mumbai for submission.

I am still not able to come to terms with the idea that such things still happen and such people are still around.

Maybe I live too much with myself.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

All in a Day's Work

It started one fine Monday morning, while most of "rest of the world" was asleep. The time was 4 AM. "Starting the week early" probably gets redefined by this. The taxi arrived on time, despite being booked online the previous night and a vague SMS confirming that my request had been logged was the only confirmation for this.

The fact that I had gotten only about 8 hours of sleept (cumulatively) in the past 50 hours or so did not seem to matter. Confident that I will catch up on sleep on the way to the airport (which is quite a painful 43 Km from my house) which in itself is a journey before the journey. May this be called the Pre-journey, very much akin to Pre Board or Pre Heat or Pre cook?? (how easy it is to deviate).

Anyway, the ride to the airport was smooth and fast, as fast the GPS system would allow the driver to go. Didn't sleep. Then I decided, since I was booked on the Konnect series, that I will sleep for whole hour and half or so it takes to reach Mumbai from Bangalore. The line for the security check at 6 AM, and this is the brand new (does 1 year qualify) airport created since the old one was small and cramped, was more or less like the Great Wall of China folded and compacted in a small space. I really pity the "smart people" who carry large bags and not check them in to save time at baggage claim. One thing I found out, it would irritate the most patient of people to stand for such a long time AFTER the long queue for the check in. It seems that an hour before the flight at 6 AM is just not sufficient these days.

I finally managed to get to the gate just about 10 mins before departure and slept like a baby. Well, almost literally. I only could not curl up due to lack of space. The Terminal 1C was like a breath of fresh air. Must say, GVK is doing quite a nice job of revamping the airport.

After waiting for about an hour for another person who was flying in from Delhi (and whose flight was scheduled to arrive 10 mins before mine) we finally headed towards the launch. The reason we were in Mumbai was for what we call a Reconnaissance Survey (Recci in short) for a new project that is to come up (hopefully). This would connect 2 parts of the city that are suffering heavy traffic.

You might have noticed the lack of mention of food till now. That is because there was none involved.

We, now a large team of about 14, went to the jetty and boarded a boat. This was a rather mid size boat, a bit smaller than the ones you may have seen ferrying people across creeks in Mumbai. We set sail, amidst no fanfare, to travel against the tide to the other point in the city. (I apologize for the generic nature but cannot mention specifics until this project happens. So I earnestly hope that you will either have forgotten about this post by the time the project comes up or that I will be around to answer questions, if any).

End of May is the period where the expectancy of monsoon begins (may not be the case for most of us, but for the maritime board at least). I was told that the Western waters of our country are more troubled than the ones on the East coast. I was also told that we were lucky to have gotten a "single hull" boat than a "double hull" as this would mean more stability and lesser probability of seasickness.

The sea was quite calm for the first 15 mins or so and given my enthusiasm for experiences, I climbed up to the roof of the boat, where the professional videographer we had hired was filming as a requirement for the survey. It was getting quite hard to even stand without a strong support and we were moving around like toddlers, hanging on to whatever railing or other people around us. It felt good, I must admit, for the first 20 mins or so. I was taking pictures, helping people up and around the roof, quite the able bodied feeling.

Then it started. The small uncomfortable feeling you can only experience on a boat. The want to go to a stable place and not move in 3 directions simultaneously. The sea seemed quite angry at us for entering into places we were not allowed (at least it seemed so at that time). The sun seemed to second her opinion and beat down on us harshly. The time was about 11.30 AM.

I decided to go to the lower deck from the roof before I was unable to do so by myself. Ah, what a nice feeling it was to come down to the shelter of the shade. The wind here was cool, the upheaval not so violent and I felt much better. I had control once again.

I sat down on one corner of the boat. Another 15 mins passed. Then it came again. That strike of seasickness that is absolutely cannot be reasoned with. The one good thing about being seasick on a boat is that you don't have to run to find a suitable place every time there is an attack. You just have to find the edge and lean over. (I don't mean go overboard contradictory to everyone eles's opinion there). It was like you see in Sci Fi movies when robotic tentacles appear from nowhere to hold a falling object and put it back where it was. I felt 2 pairs of hands appear out of nowhere and hold me from falling overboard (yes, they must have been cursed by a few if not all).

Once I was done with the ordeal, I was told "Next time, call. We can't have you fall off". The first thought that hit me was "NEXT TIME?????" I don't want to do this. I did not volunteer. It just happened.

Despite all that, it relapsed. Twice. The "driver" asked me to just lie down and close my eyes and I would be fine. Magical words had never been spoken before. Indeed.

Once we arrived on ground and my head was able to understand that we were stationary, I thanked the kind people who saved my life by holding me during my times of crisis.

We rested just before lunch so that everyone would sync with being stationary and out of the sea. I, being the "worst affected" (their words, not mine) was the benchmark for everyone to feel better. YES, Me - a benchmark. For all the wrong reasons, but nonetheless, once in my life - a benchmark.

We discussed the project and what would be required, the possible hindrances, future plans to be considered etc. This was probably the highlight of my day. I was able to contribute well and my views were considered by people with lots of experience under their belt. Feels nice to be heard and responded to by someone who knows what they're doing and have done it before.

During and after a very nice lunch (I hadn't eaten all this while, remember) everyone expressed their concern about my "health" (embaressing, yes) and departed wishing me to either take care or recover soon. (Did I just qualify for sick, literally??)

I was dropped off at the airport and had over 2 hours for my flight (which I had initially thought was too early). It seems that I had even consumed a tablet on the boat, in a desparate bid to stop the sickness. And yes, I am aware that it takes a tablet about 3 hours to show any effect and I am one to avoid medication even during times of pain. What we do in times of desparation!

This tablet began its effect - Drowsiness would be an understatement. I slept, uncomfortably, waiting for my flight to start boarding, confident that they would not leave without me (Did not really have an option, did I?) When I suddenly awoke, my flight had already started boarding and the line was diminishing. I rushed, only to find that the queue has moved from the gate to the flight and not inside. Relieved, you'd think. Frustrated, I was.

I finally boarded the flight and nodded off even before the doors were closed. I woke up to a falling feeling and realised that we were landing back in Bangalore. I felt strangely refreshed. Never happened to me after a flight, that too one that had gotten delayed, that I felt refreshed.

On my way home, wide awake now, I notice that the car was slowing down every minute or so and then back to speed. I asked the driver if there was anything wrong which was when he stopped the car and started to get out. When questioned, he said that he was sleepy!!! He'd been driving since the previous night. He washed his face and we were away, homebound. I did not want more trouble on the same day. So I kept my eye on him, asking him if he was alright everytime he seemed to slow down without reason.

A turbulent sea and 2 flights had not killed me. I certainly didn't want a cab, relatively close to home, to finish it for me (or finish me). The great gods had delivered me home, safe and sound.

I only realised the next day that it was the medication that had induced so much sleep in me. I have now decided that I will beat the monster that is seasickness. I will return to the same turbulent waters, better prepared (and no, I don't mean carrying paper bags. We don't need them at sea ;-) ).

I shall sea you again.