Punjabi for Beginners (Fem.)

Considering that previous discourse of Punjabi was a little too male-centric, here is a linguistic endeavor of documenting words from Punjabi femina sapien….harsh words from Harsh Kaur.

Moya
Literally meaning Dead, as in Why aren’t you dead? Often reserved for eve teasers, word is commonly used as “Mar Moya”, which translates to “Die you dead man”. If your DNA-lingua is cringing at her being harsh with redundant use of the language, wait till she riles up a little bit more and introduces the three tiered redundancy for enhanced effectiveness …..Mar Moya Marjaneya !!!!.....You death deserving dead man, why don’t you just die ???

Word is also used for significant others, especially the ones who habitually mistake Friday mornings for Saturday mornings……Uth Moya, Aaj kamm te nahin jaana, sari umar sutta rahoonga…..Wake up Mr. Dead-pan, aren’t you going to go to work today? Are you going to sleep for rest of your life?

Dur Phitte muhn
What better way to curse a bad mouth than to mouth a bad curse on the bad mouth……Dur phitte muhn…..Your mouth burn (presumably in hell). Phrase is often hurled at pre-teen and teen males who are careless enough to exercise their recently acquired four-letter vocabulary within an earshot of any senior female…relative or not. If a close relative, then it is usually also accompanied by a sound thrashing.

Khasma nu Khaniye
It is a general observation that junior-ettes in Punjabi households become increasingly smart to cover up their slips while the juniors become dumber by the hour. But once in a while junior-ette slips and harsh words from Harsh Kaur Sr. come stinging…….Khasma nu Khaniye…..literally you can eat her husband….and thus cannibalizing his life-span. And at the same exact moment, somewhere in the world, a male feels a chill down his spine for apparently no reason at all.

Tun apne Pe warga
Junior progresses exponentially on the dumbness curve. In due time, he achieves an irreversible steady state and becomes immune to all the usual verbal and non-verbal attacks. And that is when the psychological weapon is launched with “Tu apne pe warga aan”…You are just like your father.

Thapri
Thapri is wooden laundry tool of an unknown origin which was used by womenfolk to beat the dirt out of the clothes. Somewhere in time, a well meaning mother discovered its alternative use….a character builder and discipline inducer in the junior males of the household. Junior slips on his language…..Thapri…..Junior disobeys grandmother….Thapri…..Junior fails his English Grammar…..Thapri, Thapri. “But Mom, you don’t even know what English grammar is”, protests junior. Mother replies, “I may not know English grammar, but I know you failed”……Thapri, Thapri, Thapri.

Thapri is beginning to go out of fashion and urban Punjabi mothers are looking for replacements in their arsenal, but its ceremonial usage continues in the form of ‘Thehar Ja, Mein tere thapri pher di aan"……Wait, I give you a thrashing with a Thapri. I am personally cognizant of effectiveness of this instrument. I know quite a few “Rural Singhs” who were otherwise written off educationally, but thanks to a regular dosage of Thapri, have now gone on to earn graduate degrees….some are even teaching English grammar.

Kuttiyaa !
Kuttiya (You dog) is the canini-cal expression and need I explain any more. Now here is the word which transcends all linguistic and cultural boundaries without losing the luster of its meaning or intent. Word is used equally by grandmothers (lovingly), mothers (admonishingly), elder sisters (overtly), younger sisters (covertly), wives (befittingly), friends (occasionally) and girlfriends (almost daily). Many years back, my mother used it to describe the general environment surrounding me and my brother. And that would immediately evoke a quizzical and somewhat painful expression on the face of our family dog Jimmy. However she would clear the situation to him in a most soothing ,”Tu nahin putt, tu nahin”….not you my son, not you.

And talking about transcendental phrases, I can smell another transcendental and particularly mal-odorous sound wave which is approaching me right now on this lazy Saturday ,”Sofey to uth te kooda chak ke bahr sutt”…..get up from the Sofa and take the trash out. Well, what can I say….Hor ji, Phir Milan ge.

Punjabi for Beginners

Though Punjabi folks formally greet with a “Sat Sri Akal” (Truth is the Timeless being) but in informal situations we are known to save a lot of time with a brief but profound ‘Kiddan” or “Kiwen” (How?). Brevity however is misleading considering that these compact words pack a bunch of important questions, which may include, but not limited to the following – How are you?, How is your wife?, How are the children? and Where are we getting together for a drink tonight? The answer to such a question is equally brief. “Uwen” is uttered with a slight jerk of the neck, which answers all – I am fine. Wife has gone shopping. Children are making me bankrupt and we are getting together at the same place as yesterday.

Love: Punjabi Style
Amitabh Bachhan misled many young hearts, when he lip-sync’d….Angrezi mein kehte hain, I love you…Punjabi mein…Main tainu pyaar kardan. Though he was correct in his translation but practically speaking, no Punjabi man could ever say “Main tainu pyaar kardan” with a straight face. If someone did manage the feat after a lot of practice, Punjabi women simply refused to believe him. Some were even chased with famous feminine footwear from Patiala. Let’s face it, Punjabi men are more known for their durability rather than the prowess in finer points of amor. Exception again lies in brevity. As many will testify to its truth and power; if uttered at the right time and at just the right frequency – “Sonyon”(O beautiful one !) can do wonders….I mean wonders.

Getting rough with the language
Let’s examine a popular expression of roughness in English….I am going to %&*# you. Now this expression has all the elements – Object, Subject, a verb, an infinitive and even a gerund. Only thing this expression lacks is date and exact time of the day - on wednesday at 0245 hrs. On the contrary, the equivalent Punjabi expressions are generally incomplete. Often just one word “Teri….” (Your) is uttered with a meaningful menace. Rest of the words are just left hanging in the air and actual completion “Something will be done to Your someone” is left to the listener’s imagination. Now there are many occasions when an object (usually one of the listener's family member) does get inserted into the expression. And when that happens, rest assured, mayhem is about to break loose.

Notables
“Chak”
Arguably, “Chak de” is the most well-known of the Punjabi phrases in non-punjabi community. The literal meaning of the phrase is “Lift it” but closest meaning is perhaps “Go for it”. Outside Punjab, the phrase has been made well-known by some large girth Bhangra-pop singers with visual aid from scantily clad back swingers and most recently a Bollywood flick “Chak De India”. However, the use of “Chak” with its variations goes beyond the musical beats and Bollywood fiction. Often used as an inspirational war-cry, when a fight is about to break out – Chak de Phatte (Lift the planks) …….. and a perspiration-al use when same fight is about to end with one party on the losing end – Sada kamm ithe Chak hon lagga (Our fate is about to be done here). If you want to make a Punjabi consume an extra drink even after he just finished the bottle – Sochda ki aan, Chak de? (What are you thinking, Go for it). When a teenage boy confides to his college going cousin,”I think neighbor’s daughter likes me”.....“Chak de kaka Chak de” is invariably the elderly advice.

“Hor”
This puny word has very large implications through its prevalent use and transcendental meaning. For beginners, the word “Hor” has been largely responsible for a significant part of the revenues of phone companies serving international service to Punjab. Starting Friday evening, phrases “Hor Kiddan?” (What else is up), “Hor Kamm Kiddan?” (And how is work), “Main tainu Hor ki dassan” (And what else should I tell you), and a very popular “Hor paise bhej” (Send more money) cross the ocean at very high decibel levels throughout the weekend. And even when there is nothing to say, the trusted filler “Hor Phir” (What more) collides head-on with “Hor Phir” from the other end. Considering that acoustics of this innocuous Punjabi word “Hor” are very similar to particularly popular English pejorative for “lady of the night”, FBI had to start ignoring the weekend flags raised by its wire-tapping computers. They almost missed Eliot Spitzer but he made his tryst with a real “HOR” on a weekday…..Ha! There is also no surprise that my dear friend Mauji has never missed an opportunity to recant his Hor-liners. His favorites…..”Ghare Hor haigi aa?” (Is there more at home) and “Ja, Hor lai aa” (Go, Bring some more) . The tonal character of “Ghare Hor haigi aa” and ‘Ja, Hor lai aa” is supposed to let the listener know what “Hor” is being asked for, however, on occasion, some beginners do ask “Hor ki?” (what more?). And, invariably, this is met with a somewhat agitated return “Sanjeevni Booty, Hor Ki” (Sanjeevni Booty, What else). [Note : Discussion of “Sanjeevni Booty” is beyond the scope of beginners and even many advanced texts]. Until the next installment of this linguistic discourse, I take off with a respectful “Hor Ji, Phir Milan ge” !!!!

Oye Bandra ! : Ape-ic musings

If you are getting tired of listening to election squabbles, let me steer your attention towards another battle still brewing down under…..in Australia. The hard core cricket fans among you know that Indian team is on the tour in Australia. And there, Harbhajan Singh aka Bhajji has been accused by Australian cricketer Andrew Symonds of using a racial slur against him. Apparently he called him a BANDAR (Monkey). A suspension has been decreed which was followed with protests, threats and counter threats by ICI, BCCI, ICICI, MCI, RBI etc. etc. Even Michael Holding (remember the one from West Indies) has weighed in on the issue with an insightful – How can the term “Monkey” be racial? We all evolved from them. In response to Michael Holding’s comments, the legislators in the state of Kansas immediately gathered enough votes to declare Mr. Holding a persona non grata. Any minute now, Charles Darwin is expected to self-exhume and render his verdict on the issue.

Against the wishes and protests (and perhaps copyright infringement) of rest of the animal kingdom, humans have taken quite a liking to the use of animalistic epithets. A few illustrations are in order. Monica Lewinski was a bad-bad Cow. Jawahar Lal Nehru was an Indian Bull(crapper) who took an English Cow for grazing behind her master’s back. A large majority of politicians are Asses. Bappi Lahiri symbolized an oversized Ape – musically or otherwise.

In India, majority of the animals are revered for their pious connections. Cows have virtual immunity. Chickens have a patron through Lord Murugan but a lack of strong lobbying makes them more scared than revered, especially in northern India. The BANDAR community has its connection through Lord Hanuman, the key character of Valmiki’s epic Ramayana. The ones among you, who do not know the great story and were also spared from the torture of watching Arun Govil displaying his folds of ab-flesh on television, let me give you the gist. There was Lord Ram and brother Laxman. Sita was Ram’s wife. They all went into the forest when exiled. Ravana was the bad guy who abducted Sita, because Ram and Laxman refused unsolicited advances from Ravana’s sister. A good old fight followed with victory of good over evil. Who was Hanuman then you might ask? Well he was the one who went around with his tail on fire. Hanuman’s fiery spirit has stayed alive. My good friend Ashish Vij, who played Ram in a many a mohalla’s Ram Leela was fired from it by Hanuman when he began insisting on taking Sita to the forest.

Valmiki was mostly mum as to why Lord Hanuman chose a life of single-hood but many schools of thought have been proposed. My nephew Wellwired Singh says – In the absence of internet, it must be very hard to find “A Suitable Bandariya”. And a suitable Bandar does not hang from every tree either – retorts Wellwired’s wife Hard Kaur. My friend Goofur-e-Alam opines – The choices were clear. Life time of monkeying around or getting knotty with just one pry-mate. He chose freedom. Wisdom beyond the years of evolution. And the 42nd generation of famous match makers from Ragerpura, New Delhi claim – We had a good “rishta” ready for him. Problem came from prospective in-laws. They were too Langoor-ish.

In spite of celibacy, Lord Hanuman is perhaps not without a soft corner for fairer sex. Against all my admonitions and a spirited propaganda in favor of Lord Krishna (role model for many Indian males), a very dear friend of mine once prayed really hard to Lord Hanuman for something she really wanted….and Lord Hanuman delivered the results.

All Punjabi fathers, who have been blessed with son(s), have greatly enriched the Punjabi language with a generous use of word “BANDAR” in similes and metaphors. To sample a choicest few addresses by Punjabi fathers to their male progeny – Oye Bandra !, Kan khol ke sun (O Monkey, Listen with your ears open)……..Eh Bandarpuna band kar de nahin tan…(Quit monkeying around or else..)……Bandar wangoo tappna band kar (stop jumping up and down like a monkey)……and my personal favorite, Tera bootha Bandar wangoo kyon sujya aa (why your face is swollen like that of a monkey).

Now imagine serene Punjabi countryside; a two and half year old boy with limited power cerebral engine and nascent linguistic skills, trying to articulate his thoughts in a difficult and confusing situation, “Well, whenever I pee in the flower pot, Dad calls me Oye Bandra!, and Grandpa calls me Oye Kaka!. I guess Bandar and Kaka must be synonyms”. If the boy is capable of such precocious thoughts then he is definitely headed for the dwindling ranks of Punjabi intellectual society. If not that, he is at least expected to play cricket or write a silly blog.

What is in a Name : After All

Nothing has brought the significance of human nomenclature more into the forefront than the phenomenon of Globalization. After becoming aware of the fact that western vocal chords will refuse to process the complex analog signals embedded within the likes of Krishnamurthy, Ranganathan & Jeetendra Chaturvedi, the outsourced oufits imported the anglicized names in order to boost the exports. Krishnamurthy and Ranganathan metamorphosi-zed into Kris and Randy, while Jeetendra Chaturvedi simply initialized into JC. Here is a brief name-centric phone conversation between Subramaniam and me.

Subramaniam : Hi ! This is Sam. Can I talk to Mr. Satnam Doad.
Me : Satnam is not here. Can I take a message?

Subramaniam : May I know who I am talking to?
Me : Yes, This is Robert de Niro.

Subramaniam : Mr. Niro, are you the decision maker in this house?
Me : No, I am a happily married man !!!!! Hello….Hello…Hello…I can’t hear you Sam….where are you?

Getting back to the main issue, let’s look at the brief history of Punjabi nomenclature. Having stood in the way of every armed invasion which came from the north-west, Punjabi nomenclature began with infusion of bravery and tones of military brass band. We had Sher Singh (literally Lion Lion), Shamsher Singh (Who can shame even a Lion), Jhujhar Singh (Don’t mess with this guy), Gajjan Singh (Thundering Lion) and Karnail Singh & Jarnail Singh (Ranking members of the military who directly went from the womb to the war). Southern Indian nomenclature might have been also forced to add a wild animal character to their nomenclature, if the genocidal armada of Christopher Columbus had found the real India. Tamil Tigers of Sri Lanka have been rolling out this strategy on a group level basis.

A relatively calm period of the history perhaps softened the Punjabi lexicon but definitely not their intent. This era brought us Baljeet (Victory by force), Jagjeet (Victor of the universe), Inderjeet (Victor over the Gods), Sharanjeet (Take his protection and victory guaranteed), Ajeet (No victory possible against this one) and Paramjeet (Winner takes all). Having a vested interest in linguistic connections, I searched for evolution of Daler Singh (Lion with a big heart). Now, to be clear, the “Big Heart” here is big, strictly in the sense of physical courage. Writing a million dollar check to the Green Peace won’t portray you as Daler in Punjab, but saving Hema Malini, Zeenat Aman and their comely “Saheliyan” from “The Burning Train” definitely will. In fact, if you write a million dollar check to the Green Peace, some might call you a Kammla Singh (Lion who went nuts). Daler perhaps has its twisted linguistic roots in spanish “Dolor” (pain). Many Daler Singhs have been known to be a constant ‘dolor’ in the ‘you know what’ of governments of India and Pakistan.

When our old ways were touched by the sprawling urbanization, we got out of the military bases with Gurjeet Singh (Victor of character), Surjeet Singh (Victor of melody) and Manmohan Singh (The gracious mover of hearts – No wonder he became the prime minister). We also had a rare but special Montek Singh. This lion is a product of English “Money” and Punjabi “-tek” (support). Obviously, he was destined for a roar in the finance and planning ministry.

And then came the time when Punjabis made love and not war. And did they put some “Preet” (love) into their act. This era gave us Kulpreet (Love of the whole clan), Jaspreet (Glorious love child), Jagpreet (Love of the entire universe), Amarpreet (Product of undying love) and an occasional Samarpreet (product of hot summer afternoon love – pioneered in the countryside, exported immediately to the nearest city). And let’s not forget the loveliest of all the love children – PREETI. Preet Singh and Preet Kaur made Pritam.

A prolonged absence of any major turbulence in the Punjabi society has led to further mellowing of nomenclature. The image of a hard drinking, jovial and friendly Punjabi becomes even friendlier when you meet Harmeet (everyone’s friend), Manmeet (A hearty friend) and my good friend Gurmeet (A Friend with good character – He knows all the sweet spots in town). The lion seems to have been tamed quite a bit though. Punjabi males are beginning to omit “Singh” from their names altogether. The pressure to get in touch with the feminine side is so great that even Daler has added Mehndi (Henna) to his name. Though from what I see in the news reports, Daler Mehndi has caused some serious “dolor” to the immigration sleuths.

And one important aspect of Punjabi nomenclature is religion, which brings the issue closer to home. My brother and I were named with words picked in sequence from holy book of Sikhs. My elder brother Onkar comes from the starting words in the book - Ik Onkar –meaning God is One. Profound and most misunderstood (the words, not my brother. The need to understand anything about my brother is not expected to arise for a few millennia…at the least). One God…...as in indivisible One…….but Whose One? I have One. You have One. Dalai Lama is an incarnation of One. George Bush and Hillary Clinton have One too. Mitt Romney has a Mormon One. Middle easterners can’t agree on One. Communist party does not approve of One. A good friend of mine believes in Two-in-One. One God is watching all this and perhaps having fun. My name Satnam came from the next word - meaning Truth is God. But the question arises again…..Whose Truth? The fact is that very few people can hear the Real Truth over the din of My Truth and Your Truth. If you do then you will agree...perhaps there is something in the name after all.

A season to get physical

Thanksgiving just went by, so it is time to talk turkey. Thanksgiving is the day when America intensifies its annual assault on Kingdom of Food with a proverbial “Surge”. Outside the cocky world known to homo-sapiens form of intelligentsia, the day is celebrated as “Temporary Independence day” in the bovine world and as “Thank God it is no fry-day” among Chickens. Except for a mild surprise for taste buds, the day is just another weekday in Alabama. The success of surge is well known as it continues its assault around the offices with sugar concoctions appearing mysteriously and disappearing rapidly at the coffee stations. As the assault progresses, the birthday of Christ is celebrated with a summary crucifixion of Atkins. Jenny Craig goes into hiding and Sara Lee comes out of exile. The Krispy krime wave runs unabated until New Year marks its ebb with arrival of XXXL credit card statements while we renew our annual subscription to some old resolutions. Two from an apparently popular list in a recent newspaper clip caught my eye – Get Physical exercise and Get Physical.

Get Physical !!!!!Does everyone smell the sneaky lobbying by AMA here? The physicians at AMA are real helping bunch.

Physician : A person upon whom you set your hopes when ill and set your dogs when well - Ambrose Bierce

First, the AMA hires really good lawyers to help our legislators craft a simple and straightforward health care system. And then to extract some extra bucks off the backs of middle aged hombres, they start helping us pick our New Year resolutions as well. I am sure that most of you middle-aged males at one time have sensed that not-so-faint streak of sadistic glee when your physician suggests “Physical”. They so much love seeing you in that rear-cooled paper gown that they suggest Physical even if you are in their office to get your ear wax removed. And when they do, a chill runs down your spine and terminates exactly at the point which is going to bear the brunt of the procedure….and for the physician, highlight of the report. At least, you should take solace in the fact that the section of your body, which hitherto was known to have contributed primarily to the Global Warming, could begin its lengthy atonement by making significant contributions to the livelihood of many physicians, some with overdue educational loans and mostly with alimony payments. Incidentally, it also completely explains the vehement defense of the cause by Nobel laureate Al Gore. He can prevent global warming single-cheekedly…. by blocking the sun.

My health care needs were recently reassigned by the omnipotent insurance company to a lady physician. It was hard to detect any glee in her inscrutable voice. However, she happens to be fan….a fan of Star Trek. A poster of Captain Jane of the Starfleet adorns the wall and the caption serves a notice to patients – “I will boldly go where no Human has gone before”. As Dale Carnegie suggests in his infinite wisdom – Things could have been worse. The poster could have been that of the Borg and caption could have read – Resistance is futile. You will be…...

Get physical exercise as a new year resolution is no surprise. Very popular indeed. However, during the surge time, watch out for questions disguised as statements, especially from the fairer sex. There are very few correct responses to statements such as “I think I have put on ten pounds” and she is the only one who knows them. All other responses, ranging from complete silence to “you think” are plain wrong. Ten pounds does not move me anymore anyway. Not after I have had the honor (and furniture in our house had the burden) of spending time with my elder brother. He is also known to put on ten pounds….sometimes just during the breakfast itself. There are no perfect analogies to describe his dinnertime fare but suffice to say that anomalies have been observed in earth’s gravitational field. Recently his physician suggested getting at least ten percent more exertion. He increased the distance between his bed and refrigerator by another 1.5 ft. He is mentally sharp and physically well-rounded.

And while I end my blogging to heed to the loud reminders to take out the trash and other items on the honey do-list for the weekend, I am reminded of the words from Canadian comedian Steve Smith – If Women don’t find you handsome, they should at least find you handy….and who knows, she might decide to get physical. A happy season to all of you.

Portrait of a Companion

I remember the chilly morning in the town of Berthoud looking at her, waiting while they came to take her away. I stood by her side while she lay there quietly, devoid of all signs of life. Later, friends would tell me stories of similar situations……frustration, anger and some had tried just walking away. Her demise brought that hidden pang of sadness out from under the weight of life, which lately had begun to resemble nothing but a bunch of billing cycles waiting for a weekend escape from reality. Only in the moments of sadness, we are suddenly reminded of the only un-shattered truth of life – mortality. Her heartbeat had suddenly become very erratic. I tried but it was too late to help and I said my good bye.

We had met each other a few years back and had grown really close. I still remember the evening we met for the first time. She was an Asian and just like every Asian, it was hard to tell her age…at least for me. A light milk chocolate complexion with slim and trim features. A pointed nose and those small eyes, which she blinked coquettishly on occasions. She had a light make-up on with not so faint aroma reminiscent of a recent visit to the spa. Adorned in a late model footwear, she was dressed up for the occasion. And from the inside, she exuded warmth and a faint glow of satisfaction. It was a brief conversation but I knew all I wanted to…..her close friends had begun to move away to other important things in their lives and she was beginning to be more and more and lonely. Someone did mutter something about her age but I didn’t care…..I was charmed. I was to be a man in her life and she was to be my companion.

I treated her like one of the guys and she wanted to be treated like a lady. A few loud screams and I began to let go off my roughness. On our first date itself, I found that she had an affinity for public radio. Every time we got together, it was always war, presidential follies and news from around the world. I did try once changing the dials but she wouldn’t have it any other way. I found them reverted back to NPR the next time. The topic really close to her heart though was the environment. Some members of her extended family had been quite active in the environmental campaigns for a long time and a young cousin of hers had become a very well known name among the environmentalists. She was just content that she has done her part in the bigger scheme of things. Though I was careful not to exert her too much but once, we went up Mount Evans and she accompanied us. The ascent was difficult and we went up really slowly. There was a time we thought we should turn around with her. She huffed and puffed but made up to the top. I still have picture of her proudly standing atop the peak.

My grandfather used to say that warnings will start arriving long before a “Yamdoot” is dispatched for you. She was no different. She had begun to show her warning lights too. A cough here or there, difficulty waking up in the mornings, old arteries and a heart which was beginning to slow down. The visits to care facilities were increasing but there was no medicine for age. Aware of the impending end, a will was drawn to donate her estate. Even in her end, she wanted to leave on a positive note. I can only wish that it would be the same for me, when I enter the winter of my life. All the troubles squeezed into the last few months and a departure wrapped in the satisfaction of a fulfilling life…right until the last moment.

I lost my dear companion, my 1991 Toyota Camry last week. She lived a wonderful life for sixteen human years. The children’s charity who took her body said she can still put smiles on the faces of a few children. She is survived by her bereaved chauffeur, who is currently inconsolable.

Random thoughts on Physics

For the voracious readers of scientific inclination out there, please allow me to refer to the bestseller of circa 1687 – Philosophiae Naturalis Principiae Mathematica. When God hit Mr. Isaac Newton in the head with that ripened apple, He was aiming for certain emotional nodes in the left parietal. He missed and the out came a few more chapters of the textbooks, which became the source of chagrin for some high school freshmen a few centuries later. No compassion there, only gravitation and motion. God’s flawed aim has also been argued over for centuries. Recently, He sent down “Katrina” to an American city and only area left untouched was surrounding the “Bourbon Street”.

In Principiae, the first law declares that a body will try to persist (protest and even refuse to budge) in the same state unless an external force is applied to compel it. Mr. Newton…..you will be glad to know that you have been gone for a while but the external force has continued its pestering.

The primary source of this external force is generally one’s significant other and she applies it gently, disguised in a dulcet packaging,” Honey, I made salad for you today”. No one has been ever able to explain to me as to how one can MAKE salad? By all technical and non-technical definitions provided by the FDA, salad can only be nomenclature-ized under pre-fabricated consumable. To “make food” one must alter the form, fit and function of the starting material. Chopping a broccoli into three pieces does not qualify, unless you dip them in batter (change of form), deep fry them (change of fit-ness) and serve with a pint of beer (change of function). If you still insist on salad, I would rather gulp a cup of ranch dressing and call it food. Coming across this particularly tricky source of external force, some brave ones among us retort by saying things such as ”last time I had MADE food was when I was dating you”. But then, one risks the suspension of one’s constitutional rights followed by excruciating distress from the declaration of martial law and external force turning vindictive.

Parents are also catching up with changing times. Father and mother have embarked on their own path of “fit seniors” in the era of satellite television and pirated DVDs. A few exercise DVDs and mom has begun to explain the finer points of brisk walking and benefits of yoga. And father…..father has begun to talk suspiciously fondly of Jane Fonda. The duo’s external force is neither disguised nor dulcet, and it renders you absolutely retort-less with ,”when you walk, there seems to be another person walking in front of you…when are you going to get rid of him”.

And then there is whole crop of pestering physicians, marathon running cousins, teenage children who do not want to be seen with you, but think that it is becoming harder since you are one of the few man made structures who are now visible from the outer space, and last but not the least is that “militarized” Uncle, whose vocabulary has been confined to two English words – Boot Camp. I say stand-at-ease, soldier.

The second law quoted as original : Mutationem motus proportionalem esse vi motrici impressae, et fieri secundum lineam rectam qua vis illa imprimitur. Translated into American English…..The fiery force will hold the body by its rectum and proportional mutation will follow. Just kidding……actually this is the law, which establishes a relationship between force, mass and acceleration. When the external force becomes unbearable, the male masses gather their woods and irons, and accelerate towards the nearest public golf course. A notable exception has been pointed to me by some keen students. Close to the closing time of 2:30 PM, large masses have been observed to make lightning rounds of buffet line under the influence of scientifically feeble aromatic forces.

While we are at the subject of physics, we might as well discuss the third law too. The third law states that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction…..unless you are a married man. If you are, you are perhaps used to seeing a very high number of reactions. Sometimes, you might be vaguely aware of the action which triggered the reaction. The disproportionateness of this particularly lopsided action-reaction system makes the engineer inside me wonder. Maybe this is the system which could be the source of perpetual energy scientists have been looking for. The deterrence to the scientific community of course is the extreme instability of one of the electrodes.

Moving on from Mr. Newton to Herr Einstein. Since there is no record of God hitting Einstein with an apple (or a falling piano), a popular belief during my graduate school was that E=mc2 was a result of “Drinking and De-riving”. If circumstantial evidence is of any consequence, it was published for the first time during “Oktoberfest”. I lied (repeatedly) during my freshmen college class when I claimed to have understood the Einstein’s theory. When the speed increases, the time slows down. Many years later, well advanced from my freshmen years, I had a live demonstration of the theory when I got onto the tread mill for the first time. As the speed increased, time not only slowed down, it almost came to a screeching halt. My exact words were….What ???? I have been running only for four minutes and 32 seconds !!!!! Check the clock.

I can continue with this random scientific discourse on this lazy weekend from the relative comfort of my couch but I hear the external force turning vocal upstairs. My immediate presence is being demanded and I must go…….my engines are set to warp……God Speed !!!!