Wednesday, 26 October 2022

πŸ›³️ How to get off a ship mid-ocean!

July 24,2022: In conversation with Biswajit Basu on mid ocean embarking and disembarking on ships.


Biswajit Basu: https://youtu.be/C8ER9Ladqg4

BB: πŸ‘†Sometimes we would have to embark/disembark from ships in weather like this.  In my last trip as Chief Engineer, I left my ship with my suitcases in this kind of weather.  I jumped and landed "SPLAT" on the roof of the launch bridge.

Me (Tina): Splat?!! 😳

BB: Yep!  It was a splat.  I landed on the roof of the crazily careering launch on my back and scrambled to get something to hold on to lest I be dumped into the roiling sea.

Me: Goodness!! 

Shifting from ship to boat mid sea is not easy even in the calmest waters!! I’ve done it a couple of times on cruises. Bumpiest was during our Lakshadweep trip in the late 80s. While I remember the rocky sea and the land boat bumping into and away from our ship Tipu Sultan, at 10years old you think it’s great fun! Not so for Ma! She remembered that for ages and even in our 2019 cruise in the Adriatic, the only port she didn’t want to disembark was the one where the harbour was too shallow for the cruise liner! It wasn’t anything like a splat though … we just walked the plank! πŸ˜‚

🌊 More Tales from the Sea

 From Biswajit Basu:

(Narrated on August 9, 2022)


This is a post to Ajoy Chatterjee who was a Private Apprentice in Garden Reach reminiscing our Scindia days:

--------------


Oh Ajoy....you and I joined Scindias together and indeed those "were the days"!


We had so many hilarious stories over the years and I wish to recount one of them.


We were having a lot of trouble with our SKL Gensets on Jalamatsya and our 4th Engineer had signed off, sick.  So I had told Mr Joseph (our wonderful Engineer Super) that he must post a 4th engineer experienced on SKLs.  Every day I would talk to Mr Rakshit who looked after the officers for a suitable 4th.  One day Mr Joseph announced that he was posting a new 4th. and I was overjoyed.  On discussions with Mr Rakshit, he said they were posting one Mr Swain.  Now Swain was my DMET junior and I knew him well and I was furious because Swain had never worked on SKLs.  I flatly refused to accept him.  Then one evening Rakshit came to me and begged me to accept Swain.  Finally after a lot of discussions he admitted the truth.  Swain has been earmarked for another ship and had been housed in the Marine Club awaiting her arrival.  But Joseph had ordered that Swain be signed on the Jalamatsya.  Why I asked vehmently that despite my insistence of a 4th with SKL experience that a chap who had never even seen an SKL was being posted to our ship.  After much heeing and hawing Rakshit admitted the truth.

"He's eating Scindia's into extinction", he wailed.  My eyes opened wide!

Swain's bills that were coming in from the Marine Club were huge.  Enquiries showed that it was his food bills that were so high.  Rakshit said he was convinced that Swain must be feeding a friend which is why the food bills were so high.  So one day Rakshit decided to spy on him and found he was eating the meals all by himself.  Only that he could eat a lot!

To cut a long story short, to save Scindias from extinction I agreed to sign  him on.

But Swain turned out to be a genius engineer.  He had the amazing ability to keep all the generators purring beautifully as he nursed them like his own children.

Once I asked our Chief Steward during the voyage how he found Swain's appetite and he told me that he invariably ate every dish and everything in- between the words,"Menu" title on the menu page top till "Scindia Steam Navigation", at the bottom of the menu!

Another incident on that trip.  We were carrying back milk powder to India and some bags burst.  So my wife and Poonam, wife of our Chief Officer Pramod Narula, decided to try to make gulab jamuns from the powder.  They turned out to be harder than balls of granite and totally inedible.  Swain had no problem with them. Instead of throwing the whole lot overboard he took them to his cabin and ate them at leisure and never had the hint of a stomach upset.

Such was the prodigious appetite of Swain.


Discussion on WhatsApp between Piya and me (Tina) after this narration:


Biswajit Basu: πŸ‘†Tina. ..here is an addition to your compilation of sea anecdotes.

Piya: Oh prithvi would be inspired by Swains eating capability πŸ˜‚

Tina: Yay!! I love your stories! Will add! And did Mimi⁩ really try to make gulab jamuns from the milk powder? I didn’t know she also went on ship trips! Tell us more!

Piya: Did my parents ever tell you that how my name was so controversial ?

Tina: No. tell tell

Piya: Well as my name is piya so the sailors everytime they would see me the chief engineers Daughert on the deck every evening they used to say - piya o piya . Din ko soti hai raat ko peeti hai !!! Dad would not like that at all πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

πŸ›— The Missing Fourth Floor

 From Biswajit Basu:

(First narrated on Aug 14, 2022 and added to on Feb 10, 2025)


In case you thought Ministries are dry, humourless places, savour this true incident:

The DCI building was to be constructed in Vizag.  Our CMD tasked me with the job of ensuring that our building gets the 5th floor because then we would be entitled to an elevator (lift) as per government rules.  I put my heart and soul into it to get the 5th Floor sanctioned.  After a lot of discussions and arguments with the Public Enterprises Board, I knew I had done my best.  Months passed and I more or less forgot about the whole thing.

Suddenly, I got a call from Mr Motwane, our Ministry's Civil Engineer, to meet him.  On entering his office he seemed elated and congratulated me on my success.  He said the 5th Floor had been approved.  I took him out for dinner that evening.

Next day he called me to his office and I presumed it would be to collect the approval letter.  Indeed it was and I accepted it gleefully.  But he seemed very serious.  Finally he told me that DCI was about to create history!

Mr Motwane said he would be very interested to see our building because it would be the only building in the world with the 5th Floor but without the 4th!


Apparently the original sanction was only for 3 floors.  In our eagerness to get the facility of a lift we had completely forgotten that we needed a sanction for the 4th floor.


Now you know how the government often comes up with ridiculous solutions to simple issues


Retold by Biswajit Basu on Feb 10, 2025 with  additional details:

My stint in the Shipping Ministry was not without its moments of irony and hilarity.


Those who have visited the DCI building in Vizag will probably remember it has 5 floors.  It was originally planned for 4 floors but our Chairman was told that unless you have 5 floors you cannot have a lift (as per CPWD rules).  So our CMD sent me the revised building plan with 5 floors and 2 lifts and I was tasked with getting the 5th floor cleared.  I set upon my task with great gusto.  It was to be cleared by the Joint Secretary in the Bureau of Public Enterprises (BPE) and I religiously visited him every week to check on the progress.  Many months passed and I was really struggling with this case.


Suddenly, Mr Motwane, the civil engineer of our Ministry asked me to come over to his office.  I loitered through the labyrinthine corridors and nervously presented myself.  Mr Motwane was effusive and shook my hand and congratulated me as he announced, “approval for your 5th floor has just come in”.  I was overjoyed and immediately invited him for a lunch.  He nodded and indicated that I take a seat.


“I will issue the approval for the 5th floor immediately.  But I there is an issue I must inform you.  I notice that you do not have an approval for the 4th Floor.  I am not sure how you can build the 5th floor without the 4th floor!”


Needless to say, I started the process for the approval of the 4th floor the next day.

πŸ™ƒ Bonkers over Conkers

 From Biswajit Basu:

(Narrated on August 30, 2022)


*GOING BONKERS OVER CONKERS*


September reminds me of my schoolboy days in London in 1955-56.


In our school, Bevington High in Ladbroke Grove, we had a few trees where green and fruits grew that were spiky on the surface called "conkers".  We would pick them up, make a diametrical hole and thread it with a cord or shoelaces. Then two opposing boys each with his own conker would tangle their conkers and try to break it.  There were a number of variations to this game.


I wonder if any of you guys ever seen schoolboys playing this game.

πŸ˜’πŸ˜‚ Tears and Laughs

 From Biswajit Basu:

(Narrated on October 1, 2022)

Reminds me of the day we were in Howrah Station just after we got married.  As was prevalent in those days whole busloads of relatives came to see Swati and me off, homebound to Delhi.

There was this old relative who was trying desperately to say farewell and wish us luck but wasn't able to because his false teeth were popping out every time he opened his mouth. After 5-6 attempts of pushing back his teeth and trying again and again he failed miserably and allowed himself to melt into the background.  Swati who was howling miserably till then as she was leaving her family (no, Shibesh wasnt there.  He was too  busy on some ship on the high seas), now began to laugh hysterically that would put any self-respecting hyena to shame.  She laughed and laughed and changed the mood of the whole congregation.


This broke the ice and all of a sudden everybody was laughing holding their sides and seemed happy to see yours truly leave Calcutta.


Swati never stopped laughing till we left Howrah far behind in the distance.

🍴Tiffin tales

From Biswajit Basu:

(Narrated on October 11, 2022)


 *AN EMBARRASSING FAUX PAS*



I left for the office as usual armed with my tiffin.  On reaching the office, the durwan told me it was a holiday (an important one).  I realised I'd cut a sorry figure and be the brunt of all jokes if I went home.  So, I went to Lodhi Gardens and lay down on a  bench.  At lunch I shared my tiffin with some stray dogs, played football with some boys in the afternoon and went home as usual  in the evening.


To cut a long story short, I got caught.  Those were before the days of mobilephones and my wife (hands on hips) asked me where I was the whole day.  "In the office", I glibly lied.  And there was hell to pay.


Mr Thakur, my boss, had called home to talk to me and Swati told him I was in the office!


She has continued to refuse to believe that I had shared my tiffin with some dogs and still asks me some 30 years later where I was the whole day! I suppose I have not been convincing enough!

Sunday, 8 May 2022

πŸ’©When you gotta go, you gotta go…

Warning: Some may find this post triggering. In many possible ways. You are warned. 

One of the topics that always dominated conversation in our family get together, was bathroom related discussion. Whether it was potty puns or toilet tales, the topic always snuck into normal conversation! My usually appropriate-behavior mother thought nothing of slinging her Pathology jokes like - other peoples susu and potty is our bread and butter - no matter that the conversation was around the dining table … and people might be eating! And despite some of us cringing, others would leap onto the conversation track and then, god help us all. When everyone met, both the inputs and outputs of the digestive system were always addressed - in conversation and in practice! 

So how can this blog be a slice of those times, without sharing of such alimentary tales. Here is a snippet from the man himself, master storyteller, Biswajit Basu.

[08/05, 9:33 am]
 Biswajit Basu Jio: A SHITTY STORY

Last night as I tried vainly to sleep, I suddenly got the urge  to take a dump.   On the potty, my mind drifted to reminiscing on the memorable shits I've had  in my life.

The earliest memories of shitting that I can recall was when I was a young boy and I got off the school bus in Delhi Cantt and my servant, Swarndas, would come to pick me up.  My mother would invariably send him with some water in a military flask which had seen better days. I would hurriedly jump off the bus and make a beeline for a grassy knoll, squat and let fly my load.  This would be right in full view of the other children on the bus.

Many years later when on a trip to Manali we got caught behind some battletanks on the narrow hilly mountain road.  After hours of trundling along behind them, the commander found a small stretch of  wider road and honourably (as always with our military) stopped to let us pass which we did and sped forward after long last.  Suddenly Piya announced she wanted to do 'a big job'.  I felt a strong  urge too.  Mr Thakur, who was in the car behind us shouted at us as we both scampered up the hillside "Hurry up otherwise those tanks will overtake us and we'll be behind them again".  Piya took her position behind a large rock but I had no cover and I squatted in the open on some tall grass and let fly.  Suddenly I half stood giggling uncontrollably.  What happened, Piya asked.  The wind had gusted a bit, tnembling the grass which was tickling my bum making me giggle.  And there was Mr Thakur screaming at me to cease and come down as the tanks had arrived.  Anyway thanks to the grace of the Indian Army, they stopped behind us to let me shit (much to my embarrassment).  This must have been the first time in the glorious history of the Indian Army that they were halted in their tracks by a shitting civilian!

In another incident on the hills again near Manali, when my boss the late Mr YP Verma and I had just started our way back to Delhi I felt shitty and decided to stop   Verma saab was happy too as his pressure was also building up and so we chose a lovely spot in a lovely valley, far from civilisation,  beside the softly gurgling River Beas to squat for our respective shits.  We squatted there lost in the pleasure of relieving ourselves and the beauty of our surroundings discussing the complications of dredging in the Himalayas.  When suddenly, Mr Verma, shitting on my left gently whispered to me "Don't look on your right".  So all this while as I was studiously looking right to avoid looking at him shitting, I was now forced to look at him.  Then after a while, he announced that it was ok now to wash and go back to the car.  So we washed our arses in the pristine waters of the Beas and in the car I asked him why he had stopped me from looking right and he said "There was a huge snake passing by".  He did not want me to startle the snake and run around with a shitty arse!  I was thankful for my narrow escape!

 Once on our way to Rohtang Pass, I felt shitty.  All our bottled water was finished and so we stopped at a tea Hut so I could buy a Bisleri bottle to wash my arse.  With great difficulty, he produced one that was so dirty that even he was reluctant to sell it.  I was almost shitting in my pants whilst he laboriously set about cleaning the plastic outsides.  I grabbed the bottle from him, ran to the mountainside and let fly.  That poor shopkeeper must have now convinced himself, that just as he had thought, people from the plains were extremely rude and dirty!

Now let us move abroad.  We were touring the UK and in Edinburgh we decided to visit the Queen's yacht "Brittania" which had been laid up and converted to a museum.  While we went around,  suddenly I felt shitty.  The attendant told me that to visit the toilet, I would have to go back to the wharf.  I knew immediately that I would not be able to hold on but I had to try.  In the labrynthine cabin rows, I found a door and opening it, I found myself in a toilet.  With great relief, again I sat down and let fly. While at it, I laughed as I conjectured how the Queen might have entered the same toilet, flipped up her skirt and had a peaceful shit.  There was no toilet paper and so I washed with the water from the washbasin splashed onto my arse.  That must have been the first time in the long history of the Brittania that someone washed his arse instead of wiping it with toilet paper!   On the wharf, I met my uncle who was wondering where I had disappeared.  When I told him the story, he laughed and told me it was "Basu's Revenge" for 200 years of their occupation of our lovely country!

Now let me tell you of my shitting adventure in Dubai.  I was staying with my cousins and my cousin sister said she wanted to show me her new apartment she was hoping to buy in a huge housing complex.  Once there, as is my habit,  I had to mark my territory there.  In short I was shitty.  The Pakistani workers' there had no idea where I could find a toilet.  As the pressure built up, I entered into a toilet under construction and again let fly.  There was no toilet paper and no water either.  This is probably the only time in my life I had left a toilet with my bum unwashed.  My cousin sis laughed uproariously when she heard my story on the way back and said I had better disinfect her car seat which I did.

Once in a very famous Italian restaurant in Rotterdam, I felt shitty.  I was guided to the basement where there was a long curving corridor without a soul around. Walking along, I noted a door marked Signori and another marked Signora.  I naturally thought the i ki matra meant female and the a ki matra was for males.  So I entered the door marked Senora and I was surprised that there weren't any men's urinals.  I thought maybe because it was such an upmarket restaurant they did not like open urinals for men.  I entered a cubicle and had a lovely shit.  On coming out of the cubicle, I saw a lady entering the main door and she looked at me with disgust and said "Pervert" as I rushed past her realising there was something wrong.  Once outside I noticed a man come out if the door marked Signori.  This was the only instance when I had the honour of shitting in a ladies toilet.

Very recently, Swati and I had gone to get our Wills registered.  At the Registrar's Office I felt terribly shitty.  There was a men"s toilet and in the row, there was only one door open and so I entered and peacefully relieved myself.  In the end, I found there was no water coming out of the bum shower.  Being an Engineer, I tried the nipple in the inlet pipe an opening it slightly, I found that a trickle of water was coming out of it.  So I ventured to open the connector completely.  Water gushed out at a tremendous velocity.  Swamping everything, my tousers, underwear, shirt etc.  I could hear Swati asking if I was ok.  I emerged, totally drenched.  And Swati who had entered the men's room (with a lot of me around) said you wanted to go for a shit but you've had a bath as well!

Well, this is a brief recount of a lifetime of dumping adventures!

Sudeshna Dey memories

  Picture of Sudeshna Dey and her grandmother Gopa Ghose, circa unknown.  Gopa Ghose - age 30s, Darjeeling Sudeshna Dey nee Ghose - 21 years...