In the movie “up in the air” there was a scene when the young girl asks a middle aged lady, what are the things she look in a guy to be her “Ideal partner”. To which the lady simply replies “he should not be an a****** and have a nice smile…..”
This really stimulated my senses. We really open up the options by simply eliminating the resistances that we once had. All of us mostly have a benchmark when it comes to choosing a partner in our youth. Let the “requirements” that we desire be stupid enough as; he should have long hair, should like boy bands or country music, should enjoy the same things as I do etc. but in the end we manipulate it. It may not be mandatory for the one to fulfill all the crazy requirements but most. As the time passes we settle up and reduce those requirements even further and ultimately we are mostly left with the most basic i.e. “he should not be an a******”
I felt a great deal of melancholy today after reading one of my old diaries (The teenage one). I had mentioned a lot of such crazy requirements. And now as I have apparently grown up and realized that such a combination cannot exist….
It was a long list and I don’t want to revive any expectation by writing it here and burden my unconscious mind with useless hopes. I relinquish my search for that childhood Mr. Right, because if he exists he probably is on some other planet…
Authors note: you need not to be the same, opposite attract but of course you should be looking at the same direction i.e. have same goal in life…
I have always been fascinated by big machines! But this one goes beyond all my fascinations. It’s simply spectacular!
The Liebherr T 282-B is radical category diesel/electric power train haul truck. It has an empty weight of 203 tons and load capacity of 363 tons. This makes it this truck with highest payload capacity truck in world!
Its engine (made in Germany, MTU) provides the maximum output of any commercialize automobile in the world. It is big enough to be used as an emergency power generator for international airports. The engine weighs 10.4tons, has 20 cylinders in a V arrangement and a capacity of 90 liters. It has a maximum power output of 2700kw and maximum torque of 14.457kNm. An important characteristic of the Liebherrs T282-B is that the diesel engine powers two Siemens electric traction motors in the rear axle. This intern provides fast acceleration and high speed. It has electric retarders that provide precise speed control to slowdown the truck.
Because of its enormous size it is transported to the site in components and assembled latter.
Length: 14.5 m long
Height: 7.4 m tall
Wheelbase: 6.6 m
Top Speed: 64 km/h
Costs: US$3.5 M
Liebherr T 282B was launched in 2004. Designed and manufactured by the Liebherr Mining Equipment Co.(basically a German entity) in Virginia, USA. A few dozen of them are sold every year.
My Facebook home page read updated from Paulo Coelho, this time I read
Paulo Coelho Curiosity kills the cat, but helps the tiger to live // La curiosidad mata el gato, pero ayuda a que el tigre viva
I am not sure about you but I know nothing about the story of this cat! So I searched and tried to find out how the cat got killed. Apparently it was no easy thing to find!
All I could make out is that, it certainly is a way of saying “ignorance is bliss”
All I could find out is that, the phase was mentioned in some write-ups in various forms like “care killed the cat”, "curiosity killed a Thomas cat (Thomas is a form of male cat).", “hang sorrow, care'll kill a Cat, up-tails all, and a Louse for the Hangman.”
In the phases where care killed the cat, the secondary meaning of care is considered i.e. worry/sorrow and not the contemporary meaning i.e. “to take care of”.
I know nothing about the writer nor about the cat but these arcane thoughts certainly kill me if anyone amongst my readers know how the cat was killed, what sort of a curiosity killed it. Do mention it to me…
Author’s note; this post welcome all the stories that help me vindicate arcane thoughts.
It was an awful morning; I woke up alone and lost. I cannot remember when I slept; it must be 6 am or so. I can recall consciously looking at the wall clock reading 5 am. The second’s hand was rushing to eternity. I don’t have the clock that ticks in my bed room. My watch is always in a hurry but perhaps, I never noticed that both the clocks (i.e. the one that ticks and the one that runs) move at the similar pace
Last night was not the first time when I slept weeping silently on my bed. I am blessed with plenty of such nights. This has happened earlier too. It is awful because in those times I needed someone to hold me so that I could fall asleep but I have no one to cuddle, so I just curl up and cry with sleep deprived eyes. Wishing and begging to god for some sleep so that I could vanish in my dream and never have to wake up and face another awful morning.
I had two dreams that night. In the first dream something really good happened, my uncle who is paralyzed was walking around in his office. Setting up on some new business project and was high on life it was great!
In the second dream I was walking in search of something upon a bridge, it was apparently leading towards infinite limits but I could not reach to the place I was heading. I was stuck on finding the bridge broken. I leaned to see the landscape beneath, which seem like a volcanic magma but the temperature was chilling. I sat hanging my legs upon the black, red and orange molten rocks underneath the beautiful sky.
I woke up to a sound of rain pouring heavily on the window pane. I lay still for a long time wondering … nothing at all. On deliberately scanning my mind, I realized that for the first time maybe, I was not thinking anything. It took me back to the time when my physics teacher told us while trying to teach up how to meditate that, it is apparently not possible to track mind when it’s ideal unless one is in deep meditation state. I was certainly not in deep speculation may be I was just exhausted!
I sluggishly crawl out of my bed and cleaned my room. That’s the first thing I do every morning. I never get satisfied with other people’s cleaning skills for my room. Only I know how to clean the mess that I created.
I was still lost as I took bath. I wrapped a robe around my body and moved to the bedroom to get dressed. I should dress up to go out but yet another day, I gave up the plan. I put on loose tees and moved to the dinning, sat on the chair and pretended to read news paper. I held my head and buried myself in the newspaper.
I realized that I was just staring at the rag when my vision got blurred with tears. I finely broke down and placed my hands on my face. My hands were sticky as they touched my face. I felt my hair were sticky too I soon realized I forgot to rinse of the conditioner.
I moved into the bathing chamber and stood beneath the shower for eon of time. I heard a pungent sound, when I turned and saw the exhaust moving in eccentric manner. Apparently something had hit the fan, when I noticed a fur slowly floating towards the ground.
I did not care to see if the bird was killed or injured. I do not care about it whatever it was. Even if it was killed or still have to slog with the daily struggle of survival. Did the bird cared how I was feeling.
A thought of sharp edge of knife came to my mind and I had a thought of slashing my wrist. I may die may not die but certainly deserve to get hurt. I always thought it was very insane to do such an act of self destruction.
I still cannot believe that the reason impelling to such a disaster. It’s because of stuff that I love; I am sitting at the edge of life and thinking about destroying myself. I don’t care what the f*** people may think about but is not the one facing this
I have been a little sad lately, but this does not block my random thoughts.
I was wondering why piggy banks are called “piggy” banks?
After trying hard to stop thinking about this and concentrating on my useless woes. I relinquished neglecting the thought and finally decided to goggle it! (Aha!! Our world revolves around Google! Don’t you think so? It has just made information so handy!)
So our small saving banks are related to pigs! Eerie! Though pigs are cute (if only they stay clean), they are the favorite animal of my baby cousin. (because they are pink!) But saving does not go with pig right?
Piggy bank is not just the conventional name of our personal bank. Origin of this term is something that I would call a creative mistake! During the 15th century metals were really expensive. So for domestic purpose people used jars of clay. They even used it as a saving bank and dropped a coin or two in it on daily basis. The clay used for this purpose was called “pygg”. (It’s orange clay which is still used in India to make pots.) Those banks were called pygg banks!
Latter about in 17th and 18th century people forgot the origin. When an English potter received orders for traditional “pygg banks” the potter was obfuscated and he crafted banks shaped like pigs! (That was a creative accident!) The product was admired by everyone and that’s how we got the name piggy bank!
PS Now that this thought is out of my head, I can concentrate nagging about my personal woes. It is always a relief to knock down arcane thoughts!
