lorry

Vidya Bagchi wrote:my first post was a big wide rant about my marriage.

Merlot Daruwala wrote:

Vidya Bagchi wrote:my first post was a big wide rant about my marriage.

Link pls.

Vidya Bagchi wrote:my first post was a big wide rant about my marriage.

Rishi wrote:Boy was I wrong about the warm fuzzy family part.

Who exactly was so mean to you here?

Vidya Bagchi wrote:

Rishi wrote:Boy was I wrong about the warm fuzzy family part.

Who exactly was so mean to you here?

no no... no one was particularly mean to me. But I had no idea, from the few posts I read on google, that this was such a divided group with so many fights. Then, soon I was told about all the rumors and scandals among ch'ers. Within one year of me joining, I had heard so much that my ignorance and innocence was lost forever.

Coolie No.1 wrote:ok, my promised first post. i posted this to old ch in 1999. reproduced.
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ha ha. The trouble is that while these lorries speak english, they don't understand english themselves. How many times have I horned at these lorries from the rear... backside that is... with no response? The lorry keeps trundling well below its 40 kmph speed (which, again, is also proudly declared on it's dala as it's max. speed) and after prolonged horning, the only respone I can get from the lorry driver is a vague twiddling of his signal stick (you know those arrows like >----> weather cocks they have near the window for signaling turns?). Now what the hell does this twiddling mean for all I had wanted was a pass? I horn more passionately. The fella doesn't have a horn of his own I realize for surely he would at least have responded to my horning like whales do at sea. I don't care for a pass now for I only want him to acknowledge that I exist. I want him to horn: yes, yes, yes, I have heard you! Suddenly the driver takes out one of those wind horns that you pump with your fist and his khalasi places it on his window and starts pumping. I realize that he's horning the lorry ahead of him! Shit, I'm in a queue on NH6. And the horn ripples ahead, lorry to lorry and ocassionally an air horn shrieks through the evening darkness. I look back wondering if I can make an escape. And I am staring down the throat of a rather sedate looking lorry touching my bumper. On it's forehead is written, 'Public Carrier'. But there isn't any public inside the lorry - there is only a vestless sardarji scratching his beard, a hand on wheel, and his khalasi fiddling with a kerosene stove inside, getting ready for dinner in a short while. I am screwed. I look back once again at the lorry blocking my escape and read this time the words, 'Wahe Guru' inscribed on its forehead. I slouch on my wheels and suddenly the noise pollution does not matter anymore. I cannot hear anything except my stomach rumble and see nothing except dal, rice and potatoes.

Kris wrote:

P.S> What happened to your story about shilpa/ shalu et al.?

Merlot Daruwala wrote:Hey we ARE a warm fuzzy family. And like any large, warm, fuzzy family, we have weird members: creepy unkils, argumentative cousins, sultry aunties, curmudgeonly gramps, saintly mommies etc. Part of the package.

Vidya Bagchi wrote:

Rishi wrote:Boy was I wrong about the warm fuzzy family part.

Who exactly was so mean to you here?

no no... no one was particularly mean to me. But I had no idea, from the few posts I read on google, that this was such a divided group with so many fights. Then, soon I was told about all the rumors and scandals among ch'ers. Within one year of me joining, I had heard so much that my ignorance and innocence was lost forever.

Merlot Daruwala wrote:Hey we ARE a warm fuzzy family. And like any large, warm, fuzzy family, we have weird members: creepy unkils, argumentative cousins, sultry aunties, curmudgeonly gramps, saintly mommies etc. Part of the package.

Huzefa Kapasi wrote:ok, my promised first post. i posted this to old ch in 1999. reproduced.
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ha ha. The trouble is that while these lorries speak english, they don't understand english themselves. How many times have I horned at these lorries from the rear... backside that is... with no response? The lorry keeps trundling well below its 40 kmph speed (which, again, is also proudly declared on it's dala as it's max. speed) and after prolonged horning, the only respone I can get from the lorry driver is a vague twiddling of his signal stick (you know those arrows like >----> weather cocks they have near the window for signaling turns?). Now what the hell does this twiddling mean for all I had wanted was a pass? I horn more passionately. The fella doesn't have a horn of his own I realize for surely he would at least have responded to my horning like whales do at sea. I don't care for a pass now for I only want him to acknowledge that I exist. I want him to horn: yes, yes, yes, I have heard you! Suddenly the driver takes out one of those wind horns that you pump with your fist and his khalasi places it on his window and starts pumping. I realize that he's horning the lorry ahead of him! Shit, I'm in a queue on NH6. And the horn ripples ahead, lorry to lorry and ocassionally an air horn shrieks through the evening darkness. I look back wondering if I can make an escape. And I am staring down the throat of a rather sedate looking lorry touching my bumper. On it's forehead is written, 'Public Carrier'. But there isn't any public inside the lorry - there is only a vestless sardarji scratching his beard, a hand on wheel, and his khalasi fiddling with a kerosene stove inside, getting ready for dinner in a short while. I am screwed. I look back once again at the lorry blocking my escape and read this time the words, 'Wahe Guru' inscribed on its forehead. I slouch on my wheels and suddenly the noise pollution does not matter anymore. I cannot hear anything except my stomach rumble and see nothing except dal, rice and potatoes.

trofimov wrote:Hahaha, just made my way to the Creative forum and saw this. I laughed a lot reading this. I need to do some research on the institution of the khalasi. Why does the driver need one? What are his job responsibilities? What skills and capabilities does he bring to the table (or passenger's seat)? What is the etymology of the word? What is the long-term outlook for the job?

Huzefa Kapasi wrote: the khalasi eventually gets promoted to being a truck driver.

Captain Bhankas wrote:consider writing a fiction. srsly. look, that immortals of... guy earned a million dollar deal already.

http://blogs.wsj.com/indiarealtime/2013/03/16/meet-amish-tripathi-million-dollar-author/

Captain Bhankas wrote:consider writing a fiction. srsly. look, that immortals of... guy earned a million dollar deal already.

http://blogs.wsj.com/indiarealtime/2013/03/16/meet-amish-tripathi-million-dollar-author/

Huzefa Kapasi wrote:

trofimov wrote:Hahaha, just made my way to the Creative forum and saw this. I laughed a lot reading this. I need to do some research on the institution of the khalasi. Why does the driver need one? What are his job responsibilities? What skills and capabilities does he bring to the table (or passenger's seat)? What is the etymology of the word? What is the long-term outlook for the job?

all about khalasis here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khalasi i did not know it was derived from arabic.

re: your other questions:

a truck khalasi's job is to a) wash and clean the truck routinely, b) open the dala or wooden planks so the truck can be emptied and the reverse, c) cook meals, d) double up for the driver in emergencies e) replace punctured tyres, f) help the driver park the truck. the khalasi eventually gets promoted to being a truck driver.