Over-reinforced

I did a little bit of civil engineering today, and a few concepts came back to mind. In reinforced concrete structures, where steel rods and concrete are used as parts of composite structure, an over-reinforced structure (which contains more steel than required) is considered more dangerous than under-reinforced ones. Sounds quite unusual. Steel is a strong material, so common sense says that more of it will make a structure strong!!

Consider a person who is externally quite non-responsive, does not react much. More steel. Of course, he or she has a side which is quite receptive, wants to express but is overshadowed by the steel. That’s concrete in an over-reinforced structure.

Now put stress on this person. Steel is strong. And can bear enough stress. However, concrete also has to bear the stress. Now, what happens? Externally he or she keeps a straight face, but internally the concrete side starts to distort. And there is externally no reaction.

This continues, until and unless the concrete fails and a break down occurs. What remains are exposed rods of bent steel that is of no use.

Implosive-ness hurts!! But not much can be done about it.

Whistles

It was dusk. The sky had a saffron tinge that was slowly being engulfed by the grey demon of darkness. The day’s heat was conquered by the spring time breeze, which sent waves of relief through my body. Tinkles of bells could be heard from the distance as Bahus offered their evening prayers to the Gods.

I was roaming about in the platforms of the railway station. Being posted in a small township of Bengal, this was the only entertainment I had. Not a railway officer by choice, the only part of the job I liked was watching the trains whistle by the station. I observed people keenly when a train stopped. Some seemed to be in hurry. Some were equally nonchalant, snoring away in glory as others complained about the scorching heat that plagued this part of the country.

Thoughts broke away in a blow of a whistle. A long distance train was supposedly going to stop in the station. It slowly inched in and stopped with a screech. I looked through the window in front of me.

The person I saw was a lady in her early twenties. She was silent, staring outside the window; but eyeballs focused something far away. She was lost in some thought that made her lips part in the shape of a smile. I stayed breathless as I kept staring towards her face. I felt I had known her for years, and wanted to talk to her. But I could hardly budge.

And in a few minutes, with another whistle that brought me to my senses, the train was gone.

And after that, scanning the trains became daily affair for me. She was bound to come back. And if she does, this time I will not miss the chance. I became impatient, started behaving strangely at home as my thoughts reverberated around that smiling face day and night. And then I saw her again after a fortnight.

The train on return halted at a similar time that day. And there she was in front of my eyes, but this time in a different way. She was in red draperies typical for a bride, with layers of gold ornaments adorning her neck. She had gone to marry and was now returning home after the auspicious occasion.

She was silent, staring outside the window; eyeballs focused on me this time. But her mind hardly registered anything as she was still trying to habituate herself with the new circumstances. I stayed breathless as I kept staring towards her face, until the whistle was blown!

The train moved out of the station slowly, leaving behind layers of smoke that made the evening even darker.

Midnight Musing

As I rest my head on the pillow... and thoughts run in directions unimaginable, I came up with something that can remotely appear to be a poem, but in my broken German. So here is the unchristened poem.

Niemals früher habe ich so was erlebt –
Wenn das Herz sucht nach Mehr,
Weil das Gehirn bringt es unter Kontrolle.

Distanz spielt die Rolle des Teufels -
Zwischen zwei Orten !
Zwischen zwei Herzen!

Eine Großstadt spürt nicht so viele Emotionen,
Wie einen kleinen Zimmer,
Der lang geschlossen ist.

Das Gehirn bleibt gefürchtet!
Und macht das Herz hoffnungslos!
Weil die Emotionen werden langsam kaum spürbar.

After a long time, I felt happy to think in German. That is why I call this blog Kheyal-Khushi.