Probably mind racing fast over the splurging testing centre of BSES office at some place near rajouri gardens, it was unexpected jolt I felt once I got there. At an arm’s length from west gate mall, here lies the deep down gorge of core electrical basics, where only few lucky ones got the chance to sunk in. I was vividly intrigued by the thoughts of assembling a power transformer. My mentor tried exerting some tough calls upon me regarding the concepts of transformer. Those sturdy night long studies of transformer in college came for my rescue from this fallacious dig. Looking content, replied in a husky monotonous tone,” bahut der baad mila hai koi itne clear concepts wala” !! Believe me, such an applaud means more to me than whatsoever existed pleasurable compliment here. In simple words, this is what I live for.
Ashutosh banked upon his muscle power, ready to expose his acute persona to the lavishing Bangkok. Probably the only person built up to be a roadie. Still if one feels some void in that passion, approach the testing centre at the 33kV grid here. Placing your head under the ruthless sun for 8 hours is more daunting than bearing a head-on pressure of 125 psi. under scorching heat, eloped in sweat drenched t-shirt, denying every odd against me. Carrying a scintillating meggar, copying down the insulation resistance of various phases with neutral with every lapsed second. Perhaps in my college days, my mind always skeptically asking how the windings are so crudely punched over the laminated core of CRGO. After such a long elapsing, I got to see it from my own eyes those audaciously molded HT windings over the core. My four years of electrical seemed fruitful wooing those wires of on-load tap changer connected to HT windings. I wish I could explain those boundless limits of joy I felt at that moment. Getting on the grey side, its even more pathetic. Riding on a four-wheeler juggernaut packed to its strength is nonetheless a tedious job. Watching those louts passing lewd comments felt so apologetic. Nothing more could you help than offering your bumpy seat. Looking so ungraciously at girls, ripping your heart into particulates. I feel ashamed, so helpless. I wish I could make all these rascals to travel once in Punjab buses with such intentions, I bet if even one could leave the bus not being a scalp of Punjabis. Reading in a paper: guys were beaten up in a packed bus by mob, just because they were assisting the girls getting down the bus screening those bullies. Wholly damn it, it seemed as if all this ruffled population in delhi is here to enjoy some good shows in delhi. Koi naa, everybody would leave this heavenly land with a clean state. Your every deed would be weighed against good ones.
All in all, leaving suspiciously this incomplete blog and myself too, I will manage the undesired changes hooking to the clawed good work there. Coz this is for what I live !!
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