Army Artisans

The concern over the issue of Footbridge collapse is genuine of the Structural Engineering fraternity, and in my opinion, takes us closer to an open exchange of open ideas (click for chain).

Commonwealth games are beyond halfway, and pre-start a footbridge collapse was a loud hue and cry along with anticipation - for example, here. I took part too (previous post). Also had come news (also Read here) flying in the ears that it took only a couple of days for the Indian Army to bolt up a quick bridge for use.

Commonwealth footbridge collapse

Khota: It collapsed!, The bridge in Delhi, by and for commonwealth.

Tota: Ok.

Khota: But, Tota, do you know why did it collapse ?

Tota: Yes, because, no one followed a proper design procejur!

Khota: You mean, no one designed the bridge?

Tota: Na re Khota, no one followed the procejur!!

Khota: I don't get it Tota. Indians, and not following procejur?

Tota: Khotaaaaa. Not only no procejur I mean, I mean no Design too. Thenga design.

Khota: Oh yes, now I know what you mean. Perhaps, this never would never happen in Queen's land? They do both. Follow procejur and do designs.

Tota: Not sure if it happens only in India. Say Luccki, no one died. Just some twenty odd were injured, some seriously. Well, you can say close to dying. Well, you can say, only injured. Just daily wage laborers. Come on, just a footbridge man not a big bridge.

**

Na re: Vocal expression for, maybe, 'No buddy, come on'

Thenga: Hand signal: Showing 'Thumb' to express that a deal went null and void.

Cleaners

Are these people called Cleaners a part of service industry?

Yes.

Is them a part of the building industry?

No.

Can they be part of the Building Service industry?

Maybe…uh huh.. surely

In Verbatim from Mark Twain

One can find many reference and online copies to old literature. Buying a paper copy is helpful to the eyes. A century and half down the line of Page 73 of Mark Twain’s, “A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur’s Court”, has some relevance down here, I feel:

We were off before sunrise, Sandy riding and I limping along behind. In half an hour we came upon a group of ragged poor creatures who had assembled to mend the thing which was regarded as a road. They were as humble as animals to me; and when I proposed to breakfast with them, they were so flattered, so overwhelmed by this extraordinary condescension of mine that at first they were not able to believe that I was in earnest. My lady put up her scornful lip and withdrew to one side; she said in their hearing that she would as soon think of eating with the other cattle—a remark which embarrassed these poor devils merely because it referred to them, and not because it insulted or offended them, for it didn’t. And yet they were not slaves, not chattels. By a sarcasm of law and phrase they were freemen. Seven-tenths of the free population of the country were of just their class and degree: small “independent” farmers, artisans etc.; which is to say, they were the nation, the actual Nation; they were about all of it that was useful, or worth saving, or really respectworthy; and to subtract them would have been to subtract the Nation and leave behind some dregs, some refuse, in the shape of a king, nobility and gentry, idle, unproductive, acquainted mainly with the arts of wasting and destroying, and of no sort of use or value in any rationally constructed world. And yet, by ingenious contrivance, this gilded minority, instead of being in the tail of the procession where it belonged, was marching head up and banners flying, at the other end of it; had elected itself to be a Nation, and these innumerable clams had permitted it so long that they had come at last to accept it as a truth; and not only that, but to believe it right and as it should be. The priests had told their fathers and themselves that this ironical state of things was ordained of God; and so, not reflecting upon how unlike God it would be to amuse himself with sarcasms, and especially such poor transparent ones as this, they had dropped the matter there and become respectfully quiet.

One Rant

One brunt I heard some time ago from a friend who works in the field. No need to guess the name, for they are a plenty, they discuss a plenty; and the following words got stuck in my head -

“I work in this field because I am frustrated, and I am quite used to it. Frustrated! Because, we spend big money on international conferences; of course in the name of interaction, but when it comes to allocate some money to facilitate at the local level, not even a fraction is shitted. And they say they get no results. Bull shit. Maybe it is not that important and this is how things are. Some say, this is because they think this is the direction the development is supposed to take, and I am used to it.”

Woody Guthrie - I Ain't Got No Home

Lately Bollywood has been influencing me with their techniques. And I have learnt once again that - that is, if for long, you are not able to put some stuff on a story board, you put a song in between. You take it from the open source.

Off Value

Indian masons/artisans are of a great value overseas. Pick a current example - places like Middle East and around, where the Indian hardworking labor and finishing quality is appreciated more than their own home market.

Or maybe the house-owners at home may want to find what the value of this this good Indian masons/artisans is - monetarily as well as culturally.