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If marriage symbolizes beginning and death, end, then, when you walk down the pavements of Golpark in South Calcutta, or perhaps the one by the Lake Market, you will end up finding beginning and end sharing space under the sky blue tarpaulin roof of the roadside flower-man's little shop: rows of funeral-white wreaths displayed below rows of bride-red bouquets, the winter season ideal for both new beginnings and last breaths. Quite far away, at the Nimtala crematorium, the aged patriarch burns away on the pyre, as shivering drunkards and mad men warm themselves up by the blazing pyre's soothing heat. They've always said that this city of ours, Calcutta, it is the least xenophobic of all Indian cities, the xenophobia smothered by three decades of Communism or perhaps a way older practice of secularism. But aren't we Bengalis genetically programmed from a tender age to passionately hate the rich business class? Or racially abuse impoverished Bihari taxi-drivers refusing to take you home from Park Street, your anger knows no bounds and you start screaming, 'Bihari madarchod! Bihari Motherfucker!' to your heart's content, forgetting for a while that inside in that bar, in a serious debate an hour ago, you had discussed the scary possibility of India electing a new government with a xenophobic leader at its helm. Then, when another taxi finally stops and you get in, as you go windingly through the city southwards, a Francis Lai composition punctuating a cheesy, late-night radio show catering to the love-struck adolescent, a part of you hopes that the radio will be turned off or the station, changed. The more the host talks of sugary love, the more you can visualize that young listener craving to be loved, despising the loneliness which is so painful in youth. And from that image of the sixteen year old girl by the radio, your mind fleets to the typical image of the anorexic single woman – perhaps a much-loved aunt or the neighborhood spinster (as they call her) – spectacled, with a pixie cut and with braces, usually in a dark skirt and a colorful blouse, the mischievous smile suppressing the screams of inner agony, as middle age, like cancer eats up her last remains of youth. Are those screams, perhaps like the last screams of the little sparrow being devoured by the crow from its nest? Just like the shrill cries you may have heard as a child from the forgotten ventilator of your grandfather's old mansion, where sparrows had nestled? Do the childhood memories of helplessness still come to haunt you when you hear similar cries on early mornings? Or have you finally realized that the early morning cries you wake up to in your new home are not of agonized sparrows but noisy, breeding kestrels atop the palm tree by your window?
But our Calcutta, this crumbling city, it echoes with the cries of pain and the howls of agony, everywhere during heartbreaking winters, when the other half is having the most beautiful time of their lives. You just got to lend your ears to those silent cries, whether in the depths of the neighborhood garbage vat, by the trapped soul of the stinking dead cat and the unconscious mad man, flies buzzing around them, or in that country liquor bar buzzing with the grumbles of impoverished melancholy drunkards, the stink of urine from the lane leading to the bar and the stink of bangla from the glasses and the bottles and the countless mouths amplifying the atmospheric melancholia. At times, Calcutta seems to be the bleakest of all places. The city, like that forgotten pot of tea, feels so bitter, the tea-leaves resting in the teapot's womb – like your love for Calcutta – responsible for all the bitterness. But you're not alone. So many others are bitter. Have you ever witnessed a car-crash and its aftermath? You must have seen how the driver of the more expensive car gets lynched mercilessly by an enraged mob, as curious onlookers with smiling faces enjoy the spectacle. The privileged individual begging for mercy is momentarily knocked off from his pedestal by the common man, as showers of obscenities and punches drench him. Or, when you take the metro to work every morning, what seems to be bitterer than the frequent venomous fights between co-passengers hustling for space in the train's black hole? But is this bitterness just about this city? Isn't it a national phenomenon, the primetime debates on India's news channels, testimony to the Indian bitterness?
But not everyone is bitter. Every evening, Yadav sells phuchka on the pavement in my neighborhood, his stall quite popular with tired people in the mood for a light evening snack in between shopping at Gariahat. I also happen to be one of his regular customers, the yogurt-filled phuchkas a lifesaver after a long day of wanderings. Sometime ago, he announced with a big smile that his wife at their village in Bihar had given birth to a baby boy. He said he would shut shop for a few days, travel to his homeland to see their first child. For a few days, by the corner of the crossroads, there was no sign of him. And then, when I walked home last night, there he was again, selling phuchkas to the late-evening shoppers. The sight of him in a cap concealing his newly shaved head made me numb. 'He is dead,' he said, a helpless smile concealing his pain, 'The doctors kept him in that glass box but even then he couldn't be saved. It was perhaps His will that the baby died. Maybe god will give me another child, maybe twins next time!'
Another person who's always hopeful about bright days ahead is Swapan, the neighborhood parking-fee collector. Like all Bengalis, he greets me with a smile every night and pauses for a while to share a slice of his life. During summers, he talks about the agonizing heat and how he is confident that the rains will be here very soon. During the monsoon, he counts the last remaining days of the rainy season, days when he can leave his umbrella back home, 'They've predicted in the papers that monsoon has reached its end. Any day now, the skies will clear up and it'll be dry once more!' During the autumn, he talks about the great rush of traffic owing to the month-long festive season and how tired he is all the time, running from car to car, collecting money and how January will save him from this season of rush. When winter climaxes, he's always found longing for spring and how he is confident that the bitterly cold winter nights won't last another ten days. At other times, he talks about how he aspires to be a real-estate broker and how everyone seems to be cheating him and how none of his clients have paid him a penny till now for the services he's provided and how he hopes to get back his due at any cost very soon. Seasons fleet and new deals are made. But Swapan still talks about how he's yet to recover his dues and how he is hopeful that he'd be successful in another one week. His optimism, in ways is like that of the lamb outside Haji Meat Shop chewing away the hay happily on a Sunday morning, as my father queues up behind a dozen men, with his nylon shopping bag, a translucent plastic bag bulging with onions peeking from it.
Amidst the tsunami of people walking towards the Sealdah Station, amidst the grunts of the Bihari porters of Koley Market loading and unloading vegetables from trucks all day, amidst the prostitutes waiting patiently for clients, it is very, very easy to lose track of the petite figure of Pagli – frail as a pole, wearing a stained shirt and muddy shorts, barefoot, her eyes wild, her face a face of pain – as she staggers through the countless heads and vanishes into an alleyway teeming with little shops and finds her way to a bustling country liquor shop. Munna, stylishly dressed, sporting even a sunglass so late into the evening is chatting with his friend, the nut-seller, sitting surrounded by glass jars full of cashew nuts and dates. 'Oh fuck, there she comes! Not again!' Munna yells giggling, as Pagli approaches slowly towards them – with two ten rupee notes – requesting one of them to get her some liquor from inside. Under naked tungsten bulbs, innumerable men are huddling together drinking. Deeper within, behind iron grills, men, like machines, are handing over liquor and grabbing in money. A tough guy in a chequered lungi is keeping things under control, aggressively pushing and shoving would-be troublemakers. An elderly man muttering to himself collapses at the entrance; a few pairs of legs cross over by leaping while a few hands pull the unconscious man outside – blood now streaming down his nose. 'This bastard, he's old, in his seventies! Every single day, something or the other happens! When his son was here, there used to be a rickshaw-puller who'd carry him home at night from the footpath. Not anymore! Who'd spend money on a hopeless prick like him, you'd spend money when there's some hope, but not on this chutiya!' Pagli is still tugging Munna's hand, the nut-seller turns to him, 'Get her the booze, man and get rid of her! She's spoiling my business!' By now, Pagli has started wailing like a child, one of her hands pointing into the liquor shop as Munna half-reluctantly drills his way through the crowd and to the counter inside.
A dozen paces away, a sole Maruti Omni is parked – and behind it, huge machines are at work as extension of the metro line is in full swing now. Meenu, in an electric blue saree, is leaning against the car, waiting. When – and if – she finds a client today, they'll head out for the room in Bowbazar. It's been six months since her operation and she's making more money now. Earlier, she used to work out there in the open – at Maidan but not anymore these days. In fact, you'll still find some of her friends there: Bobby, Madhu, Zeenat. Yes. Zeenat. She will not talk. She's mute. Five fingers – fifty rupees – and you're all set for a blowjob. It is dark, really, really dark, when you walk down one windy evening, when the sky is red, the moon an anorexic crescent playing hide-and-seek in the cloudy ssky. There she stands every night, silhouetted against the dark red sky, amidst the overgrowth lavished by the monsoon rains, everything engulfed in darkness. A lone figure, like a long-forgotten statue of a colonizer marooned since independence, left at the mercy of the purging birds. A lone figure in a little violet dress, waiting for you – her face caked with powder and her lips glistening with blood red lipstick.
If you cross the road dodging fast cars and make it to the other side alive, and walk a little bit through the emptiness and suddenly into the hustle and bustle of Esplanade, chances are, you'll find Sarola pacing up and down the pavement impatiently, glancing at her slender watch from time to time. Every night, you'll see her in front of Metro Cinema – in her black synthetic saree, her hair neatly tied in a bun, clasping a worn-out handbag – waiting endlessly for a client. It is actually very rare, when she's not waiting outside the cinema hall – and when she indeed is absent on a rare night, it is most likely that her father is sick again. Every trip to the tiny toilet – white ceramic tiles stained orange with time – is hellishly agonizing: it's been years he's been living with piles, the old man bleeds and bleeds as if there's no end and prays and prays to god to liberate him and his daughter from the daily agonies of life. On nights with a client, Sarola will take a taxi, make a u-turn and drive to Sonagachi. But then, at this age, getting a client is quite tough; the oddballs she takes to her room are usually the difficult ones. 'There was no way I'd let them have my ass back in the early days, its funny how you got to change yourself with time for survival. Then, there are those motherfuckers who want me to blow them without a condom on – and come in my mouth – there have been times I've agreed to do it without the rubber on the condition that they can't ejaculate into my mouth – but the way they'll hold my head while I blew, you just can't remove your fucking head when they came – and if you do, it'll be all over your face, everywhere. But times are such that you got to take these rotten bastards with you.'
In a couple of days, Durga Puja will kick off. The traffic snailing through the throng in Esplanade shows no sign of thinning down. Niladri Pramanik in Capital Electronics is still attending the last of the buyers keen to get home a new TV before the festival. It's been overwhelming, these last couple of weeks; he's hardly had any time to breathe – or smoke. Putting on a smile, every day, from morning to night, all he must do is convince people to not go below the 43inch threshold – for it's a matter of preserving one's social stature, he will be reminding everyone all day – and warn like a soothsayer that people hardly buy a TV below 43 these days. Then on some days, the troublemakers come to create nuisance; in this city of unending unpleasantness, there is no dearth of customers returning to the showroom to claim their yet-to-arrive gifts – speakers, video players or mobile phones – and flare up in rage when told to wait for another two weeks. Why do they create such a scene for a three or four thousand rupees gift – Pramanik wonders once in a while – is it really worth fighting for, especially when you've splurged on a fifty-thousand-something television set? When, at the end of his day, he is out heading towards home – tonight, in a taxi – it suddenly feels so wonderful. Feels festive already. Group of boys on a truck carrying the Durga idols from Kumartuli are celebrating like a gang of victorious East Bengal supporters at the end of a football match – the white plastic sheets covering the idols fluttering wildly in the wind like those gigantic red-and-gold East Bengal flags. Or is it perhaps like a gang of men on a truck accompanying a corpse to Nimtala Burning Ghat?
The taxi comes to a halt near Statesman House; Central Avenue is still chock-a-blocked. From the window, Niladri Pramanik can see a crowd of men huddling together, cheering and whistling wildly. A young woman – not more than thirty – her head shaved, her eyes schizophrenic, her dress a tattered, stained nightie, her smile a smile of felicity – is dancing wildly to a Bhojpuri song being played on someone's mobile phone – her pelvic thrusts greeted by a roar of cheer every time. In the peak of the moment, an urchin pounces on her from behind, cups her breasts for a split of a second – to the great delight of the crowd – and retracts back to the gathering, giggling. She dances and dances on: sweat dripping from her forehead, her sweat-drenched nightie clinging on to her back like a child to its mother, her spinal cord trying to tear away from the confines of her flesh, fly away like a pterodactyl to the sky. She stops for a moment when the song ends, panting; a new song begins immediately and she resumes dancing. She dances away until a Police Sergeant on his Royal Enfield pulls up a while later, 'What's going on,' he grunts, 'you guys should be kicked out of here, fucking motherchods, wasting time on a filthy mad woman! Go to Sonagachi and bang one of those dirty whores for a few bucks if you need it so badly, if you're so tired of the cunts you have back home! Get lost before I break your balls.'
'Ar nachbo ni?' the girl mumbles like a five year old, puzzled. 'No more dancing?'
The crowd around her has dispersed. The traffic has thinned down. A few solitary taxis are waiting here and there.
Buses, like raging bulls, hurtle past her southwards, their blinding headlights singling her out in the darkness of the night.
She prances northwards happily without looking back even once.
And soon can be seen no more.
Laltu stood there in silence, his bloodshot eyes full of rage, his body stiff, only his jaws trembled. His mother sat cowering in silence at the corner of their slum hut, as his wife screamed at the top of her voice, telling him how worthless he was and how, like a lousy pussy, he had made his way back home for dinner, after spending an entire day drinking away with the bastards he called his friends. 'Go back to your gutters in Garcha', she told him, 'Go back to where you belong, this place is no place for you, even if it is a lousy slum.' His six year old daughter was deep in sleep; her brown-paper wrapped textbook was still open – if it was summer, the pages would have fluttered under the electric fan but now, it was winter. Laltu's son, not even a year old, kept crying ceaselessly in the midst of all the commotion – perhaps it's the cloth diaper, has he soiled it already? With his eyes, Laltu was almost eating up Shampa. She's got fat as a pig after childbirth – he thought – and was throwing tantrums every day these days! She wouldn't shut up, just wouldn't, that cunt. Motionless, he stood there in silence facing her: only his jaws trembled. On a kerosene stove, a saucepan full of water was boiling – a few more minutes now. That bitch, Laltu was thinking, she needs hot water to take a bath at night, now that she's going out, working, what guts – wasting kerosene to take a bath! Motionless, he stood facing his furious wife. She was still screaming, still screaming at him – How ugly, he thought, she looks when she screams! If only, if only he could just kick that ugly face so hard with his foot that it'd be deformed forever beyond recognition, if only he could do that, but – but that wouldn't be too smart, he knew even in his state of drunkenness.
'Janowar! Jontu kothakar, jah sala nordomay giye mwor! Khete esheche shurshur kore khankir chhele raat hotei! Eta tui hotel peyechish, hna? Hotel? Saradin mod kheye tal hoye pore achish, pet e khide jei legeche, bokachoda khete eshechish! Hobe na, ja bhag ekhan theke! Sala aya hoye ami khatbo, onyer pod ami chuchobo ar babu hoye tui saradin modh kheye pore thakbi, eta hoy? Bol, hoye? Ko mash holo bekar hoye boshe achish, bol toh! Bol komash holo!' she was screaming, 'Filthy beast, go rot in the gutter, creeping home to eat in the night, son of a bitch! Is this a hotel, huh, tell me, is this a hotel? The whole day you spend boozing away, the moment you are hungry, you come back home like a pussy! Can't happen, just scram, get lost! I'll work all day as an attendant, wiping other peoples' butts and all you'll do is booze away, can this happen, huh, tell me, can this go on? Tell, me, how many months have you been sitting on your ass, tell me, how many months? How many months?' By now, tears were rolling down her eyes, her voice was starting to tremble. And then, before she knew it, it happened.
I had once heard a dog being run over by a motorcycle late into the night – it howled and howled in agony until it died, and the howls, believe me were unnerving even for the iron-hearted. Sampa's howls were worse. She sprinted out of her one room home and through the maze of hutments all around, all the while trying to get off her nightie drenched in boiling water – the more she tried, the more agonizing it felt – the nightie seemed to be stuck onto her or something and she kept screaming until some neighbors ran over to the nearby tyre repairing garage and borrowed the iron tumbler full of water meant for testing punctured tubes and poured the water on her. It was not too late – not yet eleven, but then, the streets were unusually empty, because of tonight's soccer finale – even the boys who play away carom on the pavement late into the night, under the naked yellow bulb were not to be found.
'Meroni go, meroni amar cheletare! Ore chairya dao, meroni ore, bhul hoya geche, paye pori tomader! Baap nai, koto koshto koirya biya dichilam, ha kopal ki kando koirya boshlo, bou ta re mairyai phello bodh hoy! Meroni go, meroni orey, paye pori tomader! Koshte ache go, mon mejaj bhalo nai or, bouma rojkar korche baire giye, chhele ghore boisha ache, mone dukkho hoy, bedona hoy, bouma muk korle aro koshto hoy go or, purush manush er mon – meroni go, meroni ore! Chhaira dao, aha becharar bhaat o pore nai petey, chhairya dao go, chhaira dao ore, moirya jabe!' Laltu's mother pleadingly wailed, trying to shield her son from the punches and the blows with her frail hands. 'Forgive him, I beg you, forgive my son, let him go, don't beat him like that, it's a mistake, it's all a mistake, I beg you all, let him go – fatherless lad, how difficult it was for me to arrange for his wedding – and oh fate, look what he has done – almost killed his wife! Don't hit him, hey, hey, don't hit him, I beg you, the poor lad's not even had any food – oh I beg you, don't hit him like that, let him go, forgive him – jobless, wife going out, earning, how torturing it must be for him to bear it as a man – it's been so many months without a job – and then being humiliated by her – such a shame it must be for him to feel so worthless – please, please let him go, don't beat him like that, he'll die, please stop, I beg you!'
They bundled Shampa up into a taxi and drove her to the nearest hospital. The courtyard which is usually so crowded, full of people and cars all the time, was empty now, a strange silence seemed to have swallowed up the whole of the ugly campus. The old taxi drove into the courtyard noisily; they carried her into the sleepy ED illuminated by depressing fluorescent tubes – the stinging smell of phenyl everywhere and the coldness of oil cloth spread on examination tables, the grimness of the blue-clad staff and the scowling old matrons in starched white uniforms, the swift footsteps and the rumblings of wheelchairs and the sudden screams of an agonized patient being stitched up somewhere nearby, there seemed to be no place more depressing than the emergency department of this hospital at this hour of the night. But then, compared to police stations or crematoriums or morgues, or even the EDs of some of the other hospitals in the city, this place was quite heavenly, actually. Ashoke Rajak and Montu Biswal were outside, smoking – others were inside taking care of the formalities, so it made no sense all of them crowding together causing chaos. They were smoking silently, feeling a bit sleepy now that it was quite late, when a familiar taxi drove into the hospital; 'Jah sala, eta toh Mahesh da'r taxi re, ki holo eta? Baliya, Potla dekhlam bhetore boshe, bepar ki, chol chol bhetore chol, dekhe ashi!' Rajak said, stubbing his cigarette, 'Damn, that's Mahesh-da's taxi, what's going on? Saw Baliya, Potla inside, let's go, let's go see what's the matter.' Swiftly, they walked inside – they were not close, but they could see Baliya alighting from the taxi at the entrance of the ED. His yellow sweater was drenched in blood, his hands were bloodied as well – he darted out of the taxi and went inside, screamed for a stretcher or a wheelchair or anything – an empty wheelchair was right next to the counter at the corner, he grabbed it and ran back to the taxi, then, along with Potla, carried out Putu's limp body, then wheeled him inside. The pink towel with which they covered Putu's enormous head was blood red now. As they wheeled him inside, Putu left behind a trail of blood on the gray concrete.
I've seen kids freaking out at the sight of Putu – but since I grew up around him, he was very much a part of my life – his eyes were big, really big, his head was enormous, and his body, frail as a pole, almost skeletal. When I'd go to playschool in the early nineties, he'd run find a taxi for me and my mother during rainy days; once in a while, someone in the neighborhood would send him with a list and some money to go grab some groceries. If he was born in a privileged family, they'd have diagnosed him as autistic or something, but since he was the youngest son of an impoverished electrician, they just labeled him as mad; he grew up on the streets, roaming around in the neighborhood doing odd jobs – at times, he helped the neighborhood shopkeepers deliver their goods to the various apartments of the buyers; the elderly doctor who runs a little clinic in the neighborhood, Putu would help him unlock the rusted collapsible gate, turn on the various switches, receive the odd patient who visited Dr. Bakshi. During political processions, you'd have found Putu marching with the countless heads of party members, he'd get some bread and some chai and he'd make a few bucks and that'd be enough to make him happy for the day. When he was younger, when his parents were alive, he used to help his family by making grocery bags made out of newspapers – but with them long dead now, he no longer made grocery bags. Sometime back, there was this young widow in the neighborhood, who started this business of supplying home cooked meals to the various offices in our locality during lunch time. She employed Putu to go about deliver the lunch boxes – it was a big hit in the neighborhood but alas, business isn't so easy, her funds dried up soon after and like countless similar ventures, it came to an end; early one morning in September, heaps of cheap leaflets were thrown away in the neighborhood garbage vat, the neighbors were all kind of sad that she couldn't be in business any longer, people usually join you in grief when you're going down and chances of you climbing up again are bleak; so, everyone was sad, only the rag-picker kids had a blast making countless paper jets that day.
When you're vulnerable, when you are lonely and when you have no one to look after you, when there is every chance that you're going to rot, there is always this possibility that somehow, somewhere, someone is there making sure you are looked after, making sure you don't perish and rot away. In the case of Putu, the whole neighborhood was behind him. Everyone loved him here, everyone – all of them made sure he was looked after, made sure he wasn't ever in harm's way. Of course there were those brats who'd always tease him, but brats had been teasing him for the last forty five years or so, and hence, Putu knew how to deal with them. But then again, for a while, they didn't bother him so much, especially since the demise of his mother – there was always some elder chasing away the bastards, making sure no one messed with him. Things have been going good for Putu – but just when everyone thought he was managing quite well without his parents, things got a little messed up. For the last six months or so, he'd been acting strangely, going about telling the whole neighborhood about the woman who's fallen for him – who lavished him with all the love in the world, in whose home he watched cinema during lazy afternoons, the woman who gave him money whenever Putu needed some; his Rani, whom he said, he had finally decided to marry, the sweetheart, who was his everything. No one quite believed him of course, they thought she was just a figment of his imagination, but still, they were somewhat worried, for he would never stop, he would just go on telling everyone about this girlfriend of his. And so, naturally, this created opportunity for the neighborhood brats to tease and taunt him – in Calcutta, when you have nothing except frustrations within you, life makes a master of caustic humor out of you; in bars, in restaurants, at the marketplace, in buses and trams and metros, in the midst of chaotic traffic jams and stuffy cubicles in countless offices, in schools and colleges and playing fields, in the confines of homes and amidst nighttime gatherings over guitar and Old Monk on the roof, everyone has mastered the art of caustic humor. But to tease Putu, you never needed to master anything – to see him flare up, you just had to tell him Rani's asked him to see her no more; with a roar, he'd start chasing you, chasing you with madness and anger in his eyes; if you ran away giggling, out of his sight, he'd be calm in a while and all would be okay soon after; but if you taunted him a little more, he'd leap and bound towards you, picking up a stone or something from the roadside and all hell would break loose. But then, when you are young, when your blood is hot, you don't give a fuck, you just do it for the kick, for the rush; in our youth, we all pretend to be some sort of adrenalin-junkie or something, and sometimes, when we take our pretensions a little too seriously, we end up being utterly foolish, messing it all up.
Near the Vivekananda Park, there's this ugly looking six storey building owned by a Mr. Saha who, in his heydays made quite a fortune as a plumbing contractor. Now, with his wife dead, his daughter far away in Toronto and his son working as a software engineer in Bangalore, his life revolves around following up with his lawyer regarding the countless cases he's filed against his tenants, whom, he's been trying to oust for more than two decades now. He lives all alone, he's got two cars which are rarely used, he's got a chauffeur, Meghnad, who's been with him for almost thirty-five years now, who, in the last six or seven years, have mainly functioned as a sort of a peon, rather than a chauffeur and is seriously in need of practice. Now, he lives in a one-room apartment at the very back of the house right next to the pump room behind the car park; all the young chauffeurs in the neighborhood, Sanjay, Purna, Laxmi, Ajay, Bappa, they hang out in his apartment, for there's a television they can watch and much needed privacy during drinking sessions in the evening. All the tenants in the building are kind of pissed off with these folks, for they make noise late into the night, for they're all huddling together all the time, drinking and smoking; they would not have objected perhaps, if things were smoother with the landlord; but with everyone pissed off with him, the tenants are always looking for ways to annoy the old Mr. Saha – and tonight during the finale of the soccer league, with Mr. Saha's driver Megnad and his gang creating a lot of commotion downstairs, it was the ideal opportunity for them to call the police, complain. Two tough cops on a Royal Enfield arrived in fifteen minutes, and in another five minutes, the party ended, the group forced to disband for the night. In another five minutes, fireworks were lighting up the Calcutta sky, with local boy Muhammad Rafique scoring the 90th minute goal, making Atletico de Kolkata the first champions of the soccer league.
In Putu's world however, Atletico de Kolkata had no existence. It was around ten in the night, Putu was returning home with his dinner – four chapattis and an earthen cup full of tarka daal, a small onion split into two and a green chili, all in a translucent plastic bag. Sanjay, Purna, Ajay, Laxmi, Bappa, having missed the final moments of the game had decided to go screw whores in Manohar Pukur – all of them down there were ugly old hags, yes, but it hardly mattered today, they just needed pussy tonight, anything. And then, they could also buy whiskey there – it was late and the wine shops were all closed – though the bastards would charge exorbitantly, they knew. But fuck it, it was just for one night; with no family to look after and no responsibilities at all, and tomorrow being Sunday, no need to wake up early for school duty, it seemed to be the most reasonable thing to do. And ahead of them, when they suddenly came across the skeletal silhouette of Putu, their excitement knew no bounds.
'Oye Putu, oye Putu, shon, shon, edikey aye bara, shon shon!' they called him, 'Hey Putu, hey Putu, hey, come here, listen!'
Putu turned around, furrowed his brow when he saw them, asked gravely, 'Ki hoyeche? What's the matter?'
'Shon, shon,' Sanjay sprinted to him laughing, the others a pace behind, 'Ei jacket ta abar kotha theke elo re? Where the hell did you find this jacket?'
'Rani diyeche amay…Xmas gipt…' he replied with pride in his eyes, 'Rani's given me this…Xmas gift…'
'Aare Rani diyeche, Rani diyeche! Tui toh sala hero hoye geli re bara! Shon, shon, tui chudechish Rani ke? Thik kore bol toh? Chudechish? Kemon laglo tor chude? Bol bol laganor somoy kemon bhabe gongachhilo? Ei bhabe?' 'Wow! Rani's given him, Rani's given him, look look! You've become a goddamn hero, huh, cool! Tell me something seriously, have you fucked her? How was it, fucking her, tell us, tell us! Tell us, how she was moaning when you were doing her? Like this?' Sanjay was now moaning and groaning mockingly in front of Putu, the others having a ball, what fun it was to tease that retard, what a sight it was, as he froze in anger, about to explode. With a roar, Putu jumped on Sanjay and punched his face hard, blood was streaming down his nose, Sanjay was on the ground; Putu's eyes grew wilder as Purna and Laxmi jumped on him, trying to pin him down but it wasn't easy, Putu was way tougher than they thought he'd be. But can someone outfight five men singlehandedly? And Putu, of all people, who learnt to walk by the time children of his age were riding bicycles, how could he defend himself from Sanjay, Purna, Ajay, Laxmi and Bappa? He kept whimpering in pain as they unleashed themselves on him and he whimpered on until all was blank.
The neighborhood strays, Lali and Kalu, while venturing out in search of food were the first ones to find Putu. Every night, when things calm down, when people finally retire to their homes, when the streets are empty, when, taking advantage of the desolation, people throw away plastic bags full of garbage from their balconies and onto the road, the dogs have a great time feasting on the thrown-away leftovers. Often, they have to dodge past the younger strays on whose territory they intrude into, during their nocturnal wanderings; there are times they got to fight – Kalu once had a part of his left ear bitten off by that pied dog in Purna Das Road; the recent wound on Lali's neck is yet to heal completely. But tonight, things were easier, they had struck gold. Tonight, they found Putu's dinner, a few paces away from his limp bloodied body.
Through the grayness of this concrete city, streams of tin-box vehicles flow ahead languidly – and like at a river's delta, distributaries of little hatchbacks and dented yellow taxis branch off from the main road, spreading in varied directions. From your roof, you can see the whole city, you can feel it's pulse – yet, there is such a strange silence around you, it's as if the noise below is far, far away, so far that you are actually longing for it. And around you, tall dull skyscrapers finger the sky and the rusty old bridge looks almost toy-like from a distance. You can see everything, whatever you wish to see – yet, when you lean out clasping the coarse iron railing, look down to see if you can see the temple spire underneath, butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach – one swift glance, the heart starts racing fast, the head spins, the eyes blur – you promise to never peek below again, though you know, it's the vertigo which pulls you once in a while to the roof. The temple: it's not huge, now though, quite popular, nourished by the generosity of the local politicians and the shopkeepers in the neighborhood. If you are driving by, on Mondays, Thursdays, Saturdays, you'd be stuck in the snarling traffic jam for quite some time, people in hordes on the road, jostling to get a view of the pantheon of gods and goddesses inside, people with hands folded, lost in prayer, seeking the almighty in deathly desperation. On some days – I am not sure which days – but on some days, they feed the impoverished ones at night – and then, there is more chaos, dirty men and women in a haphazard line are served khichri on paper plates, mangy dogs with hopes of leftover wait behind them, saliva dripping from their tongues. The young men are the chootiyas, the temple volunteers say, they are able-bodied, none of them are cripple, yet they beg in tattered clothes, these cunts, if they just invested in a plastic bucket and a piece of cloth and stood by a tubewell at some street corner early on mornings, they'd have made a fortune washing taxis, but these buggers, all they want is enough money to buy a few tubes of adhesive, that's all, bloody animals, they even fight for food between themselves when meal is provided, snatching stuff from each other. Things around the temple's got louder and grander these days, ever since the rightists came to power last year: donations have swelled up, they are even allowed to play devotional music on the loudspeaker all evening, no cop to bother them anymore. They've got this mp3 from somewhere, the folks at the temple, so from five to ten, the same songs get played again and again in a loop every evening round the year, only the guys manning the traffic are a bit pissed off, they say they're sick of it – the chaos in the evenings, the fumes, the wild buses overtaking each other, the pesky autorickshaw-wallahs defying death driving like crazy, the cars and the bikes and the cycle vans, the jaywalkers, and then, the same songs on the loudspeaker– it's so annoying, they just can't stand it anymore! Now, it's nearly nine, the bells in the temple have started ringing wildly, conch shells in unison are being blown to drive away evil spirits. The songs thankfully have stopped, the priest has taken over, now chanting mantras – things are climaxing and soon it'd be quiet for the night. The crowd has swelled up, for once it seems there is no divide – millionaires rubbing shoulders with beggars, policemen and pickpockets brushing against each other, seeking blessings – even the drunkard is there once again, who was kicked out from the premises for creating a nuisance, dancing in a lewd way to the devotional songs.
At times, religion, devotion: they seem to be the biggest farce of all – the sight of the autistic teenager in a wheelchair smiling ahead impishly at the alter, his mother with graying hair behind him lost in prayer, the sight of the bitch carrying in her mouth, the limp body of her dead puppy, the sight of endless streams of urine flowing through the gutters, and on its slimy surface, the reflection of the moon – and you end up disowning god in anger. Across the road from the temple, you have a row of cheap restaurants catering mainly to passengers arriving at the railway station from all across the country – you have a few bars too, booze is cheap here, there is music, at times, they may have one of those ugly crooners no decent bar in the city will employ. Outside the restaurants at rush hour, when business is brisk, you may find mad men and women waiting frozen like statues with helplessness in their eyes, hunger in their stomach, gazing into the countless people dining inside – if they're lucky, someone will hand over a half-burnt tandoori roti, then they'd move on and someone else will take their place. The municipality guys are still digging – what retards they are, when everything's nice and clean, after they've paved the sidewalk with red-and-white interlocking tiles, they've started digging once more and everything is again in a mess, angering the eatery owners whose businesses are being affected because of this constant digging work. Outside Ramchandra Pice Hotel, on a dune of stone chips, a middle aged mad man is squatting – he is weeping actually, though no one gives a damn; under him, there's a huge pile of bloody shit – his pulled-down trousers, his underpants, his bottom, everything's messed up – silently, he weeps, tears flow down his face making his dirty face messier – behind him, across the road, the priest on the temple loudspeaker is still hailing the gods and goddesses, devotees screaming back to his calls in a frenzy. A Volvo bus heading towards the airport has slowed down in front the temple, the driver seeks blessings from inside his vehicle, buses and cars behind him, honking like crazy. Nearby, an elderly man in starched white kurta-pajama is handing over ten rupee notes to beggars standing in a long winding queue – the wads of teners thin in no time and finally is no more, then the man walks to his sedan parked nearby and motions to his chauffeur to drive homewards, as a one-legged midget on a crutch pursues him from behind. Lochmi, Mongola, Purnima, Sarala, Geeta and some of the other women who're in the queue collecting alms have meanwhile surrounded Parveen, now beating her up – 'What a witch', they are snarling, 'a Muslim, how dare you stand in a line with us collecting alms outside a temple, what guts, wearing a goddess kali locket to fool people into thinking you're Hindu – characterless Muslim whore, fucking van-drivers for twenty bucks at night, go beg outside some mosque, if they'd allow a dirty slut like you to go near one, that is! Get lost, go! We have already warned you several times to not come and beg here, one more time and we'll smash your head!' A temple volunteer, hearing the women squabbling, walks to them, orders them to shut up immediately or leave the premises. The women calm down, Parveen reaches down to his three year old toddler still crying to be up on her arms, picks him up, then walks away swiftly through the chaos and disappears into the madness of the bus terminus amidst countless buses, sea of heads, vendors and beggars, commuters, lovers, tired office-goers returning home, cruising men and squatters, drunks and prostitutes, sweat drenched bus conductors and aimless vagabonds. The deeper you go into the night, the sleazier this terminus becomes – bike stops by lonesome young woman, along with the two men on the bike, she disappears; heroin addicts appear out of nowhere, crouching with their foils sheltered by darkness, a cop with his boots kicks a bootlegger selling chullu in plastic pouches underneath the overpass, keeps kicking him in the chest until the old man begs for mercy clinging to the very boots that bloodied him a few seconds back; naked mad man talks to the stars and Mary, beautiful Mary, under an abandoned ticket booth, homeless, injured, homesick, longs for her family far away in Bombay and every minute, every second, she curses herself for running away here from her employer's mansion in Andhra Pradesh – at least she'd have gotten meals there, at least she'd have had a roof above her, at least they'd have paid her at the end of the month – yes, they'd beat her up if she didn't listen to them, she would be confined in that mansion all the while and yes, the brothers, they'd have fucked her again and again, sometimes taking turns fucking her, bloody bastards, fucking their wives on soft beds at night behind closed doors and the maid on the kitchen floor when no one's around, but at least things would have been better, what a mistake it was running away to West Bengal in search of work, if only she'd have taken the train back to Bombay, life would have been somewhat different, it'd have been difficult, but it would at least have been livable. And now, with her gangrened leg, in her stinking salwar and her locks chopped off by the roadside barber, she wonders what she will do here in this city, will she ever make it to her home again – it's been ages, yes, it's been ages she's been away from home, will her papa recognize her the way she is now, will he be able to hold back his tears like he did when her in-laws kicked her out of their home, will he be able to recognize her? – How long, she wonders, she's not seen herself in a mirror: five months or six, or more than that? When life's hard, time's a motherfucker going slow – the harder it gets, the slower it ticks – until one day, suddenly, it stops ticking altogether, when tears dry up, when hope, like god, is nowhere to be seen, when the numb body can feel burning agony no more, when the body is an empty shell breathing; that's when madness overcomes you, that's when you grow wise, that's when suddenly you forget, that death comes as the end – and unexpectedly, hope rushes to you – on littered streets and stinking fly-buzzing dustbins, on a winter night's brutal rainfall or a summer afternoon's flaming streets, when dogs lose their bark and thirsty crows maddeningly search for a drop of water – and – bored folks in the backseat of their air-conditioned cars gaze at you, wondering why such a filthy rotting beast like you is giggling in happiness by the roadside, laugh at the unreasonableness of madness, failing to realize it's necessity for you to keep living on until the municipality folks on a foggy dawn find you lifeless, clean up the body, cleansing the city's soul.


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IGN - Before Gears of War: Judgment comes out, relive some of the series' biggest moments. Hop on the Cole Train, baby.
Was a stunning looking game and the first that blew me away on the 360
It was! I never own an Xbox before but Gears of War one of those games I would have to buy if I had an 360. It looked so good back then.
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2010 Oakland Raiders Fantasy Football Preview
The Raiders are in disarray. They have made some strides towards improving in the long run, but over the short term there was not too much they could do. Jason Campbell is an upgrade at QB but I still do not trust any receiving options other than Zach Miller in this offense. No chance of the playoffs for the Oakland and there should not be any Raiders taken in the first half of any draft.
Zach Miller – I really like Miller this year. His new Quarterback used his TE Fred Davis beyond his potential last year. He may start slow, but I think he could end up a top 10 TE this season.
Darren McFadden – No one will benefit from the departure of Fargas more than this guy. However Fargas was the better player and McFadden is just a backup RB or flex guy at best.
Jason Campbell – This should be a better fit than Washington. You couldn't ask for a less pressure job than taking over for JaMarcus Russell. However there is just not enough talent on the team for him to be better than a bad backup QB option.
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Parachute's solar flowers now powering
electric vehicle charging
Exit 75 becomes important link along I-70 for EV owners
The Town of Parachute is using the unique solar flowers at its I-70 Rest Area to power a new charging station for electric vehicles. The charger was installed at the rest area parking lot in June.
CLEER Energy Engineer Mike Ogburn took this photo of his Ford C-Max recharging at the Parachute I-70 Rest Area. Behind Mike are the three solar flowers that power the rest area.
A $3,640 grant from Charge Ahead Colorado, with a $910 local match from the town government, funded the charger. CLEER and Garfield Clean Energy assisted Town Manager Stuart McArthur with technical details needed to apply for the state government grant.
The three solar flowers at the rest area produce about 3 kilowatts of electricity. They've been used since 2010 to power the rest area information center cabin and adjacent public restrooms. Now some of this power can also be used to power the electric vehicle (EV) charger.
The 30-amp Level 2 charger made by Eaton can pump up to 6.6 kW into an EV battery. At this rate an all-electric vehicle, such as the Nissan Leaf, can store enough electricity from one hour of charging to travel 25 miles. A typical plug-in hybrid, such as a Toyota Prius or Ford C-Max, usually draws only 3.3kW from the charger and can receive enough electricity in an hour to power 12 miles of driving.
Electric Vehicle charging metrics
Plug-in hybrid electric vehicles
Electricity cost & time to fully charge varies by vehicle:
Electricity cost & time to fully charge:
Note: Actual cost varies by electric utility and the electric rate structure at the site where the charger is installed. Actual range, like any gasoline vehicle, depends on driving style and average speed. Level 2 charge standards allow up to 19 kW (80 amps), although few vehicles are designed to use the full capability of the standard. The batteries in plug-in hybrid and electric vehicles are designed to last the life of the vehicle and come with eight-year, 100,000-mile warranties.
If the electricity production from the solar flowers were only being used to charge electric vehicles, their annual production of electricity would power 15,000 miles of all-electric driving, according to Mike Ogburn, energy engineer for CLEER.
Parachute's is the third electric vehicle charger in the county at a facility equipped with solar panels, joining EV chargers at solar-powered Carbondale Town Hall and the Colorado Mountain College Rifle campus.
"This is an important link in the EV charging network for all plug-in drivers, but especially for Nissan Leaf owners," said Ogburn. "Without the Parachute charging station, a Leaf owner in the Aspen, Vail or Glenwood Springs area cannot get to the Nissan dealer in Grand Junction under its own power."
Free public EV charging is also available at the Cooper Avenue parking structure in downtown Glenwood Springs.
Parachute's charging is free, based on the simple principle that paying for a billing system often costs more than electricity itself. Free charging also attracts more drivers, and gives them a reason to stop in Parachute for a meal or shopping.
"Parachute's rest area is already a popular way station for I-70. This is another amenity to encourage people to spend time there," Ogburn said.
"And where else can you find both solar powered EV charging and a compressed natural gas fueling station, all within 100 feet of each other? Parachute is showing initiative by offering a diversity of transportation fuels, even as it is a hub for natural gas production," he said.
Other solar arrays in Parachute power the Town Hall, water treatment plant and the Parachute Branch Library, the distinctive Old Mountain Gift and Jewelry across the street from the rest area, and small off-grid solar systems power the telemetry systems for producing gas wells throughout the area.
Meanwhile, the Colorado Energy Office is offering another round of grants to help pay for EV charging stations. Thanks to legislation passed in 2014, many more types of organizations are eligible to apply, including private businesses, state agencies, colleges, and multi-family housing. Grant applications are due Aug. 12. More info here.
State of Colorado offers $60 million in incentives
for electric, CNG vehicles and fueling
Grants, tax credits to drive up use of domestic fuels for transportation
Grants offered by state agencies plus expanded state tax credits have put $60 million on the table for alternative fuel vehicles and fueling station infrastructure in Colorado. It's a significant number, representing 21 percent of gasoline and diesel sales in Colorado in 2013.
State of Colorado funding for alternative fuels
Colorado Energy Office (CEO) fueling station grants: $15 million
CEO / Regional Air Quality Council
State income tax credits (2014 & 2015):
Local governments, businesses and individual motorists stand to benefit from the combined state-level push to drive up use of electric, propane and compressed natural gas (CNG) vehicles.
Through its alternative vehicle expertise and policy work, CLEER is a key player in this statewide effort.
The Colorado Energy Office has also awarded to CLEER a six-month extension of Refuel Colorado Fleets. It's a pilot program to provide free energy coaching for fleets to make the switch to alternative fuels. The program will now run through Dec. 31, and expand from nine counties to 14.
"The State of Colorado is offering an impressive amount of money in grants, tax credits and free energy coaching for fleets in order to ramp up our use of electricity, propane and natural gas as transportation fuels," said Mike Ogburn, Energy Engineer with CLEER and manager of the Refuel Colorado Fleets program.
DOLA's Alternative Fuels Initiative
In July, the Colorado Department of Local Affairs rolled out its Alternative Fuels Initiative, a $20 million offer to local governments to buy down the cost of alternative fuel vehicles for their fleets. The Initiative grew out of a proposal that CLEER made to DOLA in 2013, suggesting an alt-fuels grant program for local governments that would complement the income tax credits available to private sector vehicle buyers.
"It is exciting to see how CLEER's ideas and efforts, together with the resourcefulness of leaders in state government agencies, are being combined to deliver big environmental and economic benefits to Colorado," Ogburn added.
DOLA amended its rolling stock policy in March to allow energy impact grants for vehicles powered by domestically-produced alternative fuels. It announced the Alternative Fuels Initiative in June to fund $20 million in grants, offered separately from its regular, priority-based energy impact grants. Applications for the first round of funding are due Aug. 1.
The DOLA grants will cover the premium cost for an alt-fuels vehicle vs a traditional vehicle, which can range from $4,500 for a plug-in hybrid passenger car, to $10,000 for a light-duty pickup or an all-electric vehicle, to as much as $40,000 for a heavy-duty dump truck, refuse truck or transit bus. The local match for the grant will be the base cost of the vehicle.
DOLA's initiative may also be used to fund a local government's share of alternative fueling infrastructure, such as a transit bus or refuse truck fueling facility, and for projects to develop alternative fuel resources, such as the City of Grand Junction's methane-capture-to-CNG project at its wastewater treatment plant.
Chris Broadhurst, president of R and A Enterprises in Glenwood Springs, demo'd this CNG-powered Chevy Silverado last week. The truck was on loan from General Motors via John Elway Chevrolet in Littleton. For more deets on this sweet ride, check out the GM web page.
CEO's Alternative Fuels Colorado
Meanwhile, the Colorado Energy Office (CEO) is using a $30 million Federal Highway Administration grant awarded last winter for a four-year program to fund vehicles and fueling stations, called Alternative Fuels Colorado.
CEO is using $15 million from the federal grant to help fund equipment costs for new CNG fueling stations around the state. These stations typically cost $1 million or more, and grants of up to $500,000 are being offered to station developers. Applications for the first round of funding were due last week.
CEO and the Denver-based Regional Air Quality Council (RAQC), an intergovernmental partnership, are using the other $15 million to buy down the cost of alternative fuel vehicles for fleets and individual drivers. This program is only for Colorado's air quality non-attainment area, which covers the heavily populated Front Range, including Fort Collins, Greeley and the Denver metro area.
The RAQC and DOLA vehicle grant programs will not overlap geographically. The RAQC grants are offered to private sector and local government vehicle buyers along the Front Range, while DOLA's program is offered to local governments in the rest of Colorado.
Expanded state tax credits
Topping off these programs are an estimated $10 million in income tax credits that can be claimed by private sector vehicle buyers statewide for the purchase of alternative fuel vehicles. Legislation passed this year, House Bill 1326, expanded the types of vehicles eligible for the tax credit to include medium- and heavy-duty trucks, and raised the cap to $15,000 for medium-duty and $20,000 for heavy-duty trucks. Previously, a tax credit enacted in 2013 capped the credit at $6,000 for all vehicles.
The new credit is expected to cost the state $10.5 million in fiscal years 2014-15 and 2015-16. The credits taper off after 2016, but continue through 2021. Legislators made the new credits revenue-positive by ending a sales and use tax exemption for low-emission heavy trucks — unless they run on alternative fuels such as CNG or LNG. That exemption was costing the state about $6 million a year, while the new tax credits are expected to cost about $1 million per year less.
Double efficiency upgrades result in 42%
electrical savings for Roaring Fork Liquors
2012 refrigeration upgrade coupled with 2013 lighting upgrade
yields 'hefty decreases' in energy use for Glenwood Springs store
By Trina Ortega
Clean Energy Economy News
When making business decisions, Roaring Fork Liquors owner Ken Robinson is willing to spend money if it will save him money. When he saw how much refrigeration and lighting upgrades would cost for his store in south Glenwood Springs compared with how much he'd save in both rebates and future electrical bills, he couldn't say no.
CLEER energy coaches began working with Robinson in early 2012 to identify energy efficiency opportunities for his 3,800-square-foot commercial space in south Glenwood. Robinson joined the Garfield Clean Energy Challenge and began his energy efficiency journey that included two separate projects in two different years.
For the first project, Robinson got a bid from FridgeWize in Glenwood Springs (called FridgeTek at the time) for the upgrades to the store's refrigeration cases and coolers. FridgeWize measured the energy use of the three cooling units, which each draw separate power readings. Then Robinson, who likes to do his homework, created his own charts and spreadsheets to double-check the data.
Ken Robinson, owner of Roaring Fork Liquors, has the store's energy usage charted month by month so he can track savings from two energy efficiency retrofits.
"It's the same thing you'd do if you were going to buy something. You ask: How much does it cost right now? What are you going to change? How much is it going to cost afterwards? How much power are you going to use before and after? You quantify that so you can put a number on it," he said.
"FridgeTek broke it down pretty good. At least at that point it was not just 'blah blah blah.' Then you take those numbers and do some statistical analysis. That got me jazzed to do it," he said.
In May 2012, Robinson proceeded with FridgeWize to make $7,500 in upgrades, which included new anti-sweat heater controls for the refrigerator cases and 11 new evaporative cooler (EC) motors and fan controls for the store's two large refrigeration units. CLEER assisted Robinson in seeking a $2,000 rebate from Glenwood Springs Electric.
The EC motors are two-stage fans that run at two different speeds while moving cold air through the coolers.
"The fans we used to have ran full bore all the time at 100 percent. They were loud and hot and heavy, and ran and ran and ran," Robinson said, while walking into the employee entrance to what he calls "Cooler 1." The temperature is steady and the fans notch down to the lower-rpm phase while he chats in the cooler.
Robinson notes — in a normal tone of voice — the muskmelon-sized replacement fans and how quietly they run. He's learned since from FridgeWize about fans with a new blade design that run even more efficiently. He's considering the new product, although he's waiting for field tests to show how much better they are.
"I haven't decided if I'm going to go that route. But they got me on the first ones; these ones work," Robinson said.
Roaring Fork Liquors upgrades
Refrigeration upgrades
Timeline of projects & energy usage
May 2012: Refrigeration upgrades, $7,500
October 2013: Lighting upgrades, $10,320
Cumulative percentage decrease from both projects, comparing January through June 2012 to 2014: 42%
Although it's a smaller part of the refrigeration upgrades, the anti-sweat controls have helped to further cut down on energy consumption. Prior to the upgrades, he had a unit that ran 24/7 to keep moisture off the glass doors that house the beer on the customer side of the coolers. With usually low humidity in Colorado, the constant anti-sweat controls are not necessary and "suck a lot of power," according to Robinson. Now the system kicks on only if needed.
The refrigeration upgrades delivered a 15 percent reduction in the store's energy consumption, comparing January-to-June of 2012 to the same six-month period in 2013.
"People like to shop in well-lit spaces"
Robinson was co-owner of the Roaring Fork General Store (now the Aspen Quick Mart), followed by management positions at Carbondale Vineyard for six years and Mr. C's for three years. He purchased Roaring Fork Liquors with his friend, Bob Jenkins, in August 2000. Robinson knows retail and knows what customers like.
"The idea is that people like to shop in well-lit spaces, with easy-to-navigate, wide aisles," he said.
Robinson had already done some remodeling of the interior of Roaring Fork Liquors to create a more suitable ambiance; he raised the dropped ceilings and repainted throughout. But the store was still using metal halide lights, which were plenty bright and very energy-intensive.
So after having made refrigeration upgrades in 2012, Robinson started considering a lighting upgrade in 2013. Again, he called on CLEER energy coaches to help field bids from contractors and make sure the replacement lighting would do the job.
CLEER's coaches assisted him in evaluating three lighting bids, and Robinson visited other Glenwood Springs businesses to see their LED lighting upgrades. In October 2013, Robinson hired Wahl Electric Inc. of Silt to go forward with the upgrades.
The $10,320 lighting project qualified for a $1,500 rebate from Garfield Clean Energy Better Buildings Grant Funding, $1,000 from Glenwood Springs Electric, and a $2,500 commercial rebate from Community Office for Resource Efficiency (CORE). The rebates, $5,000 altogether, paid for a bit less than half of the project cost.
"I did the math, the numbers on it, and I came up with 2.78 years on my return on investment, and to be totally honest, I think it's going to be more like a year and a half," Robinson said. "Originally, just looking at kilowatt hours saved, you couldn't say no. It was like, 'Really — my power usage will go down by 25 percent at least?'"
The job included bypassing the existing ballast and changing out 24 250-watt metal halide lamps on the retail floor and replacing them with 100-watt LED flood lamps. Wahl Electric replaced lighting in the coolers with LEDs and swapped out the old T12 fluorescents in Robinson's office with T8s.
So far, the energy reduction has overtopped the projections. The store's electric usage decreased another 32 percent, comparing January-to-June of 2013 to the same six-month period in 2014.
Roaring Fork Liquors is an excellent example of how multiple energy measures add up to much bigger energy savings, according to CLEER Energy Coach Shelley Kaup. "Ken Robinson has taken great interest and educated himself on the projects, and he is achieving great savings for his business."
Robinson also recognizes that he will not have to replace the LEDs for five years, resulting in even further savings compared to maintaining the old 250-watt lights. He estimated that would cost him $7,200 every five years.
Ken Robinson's advice
"When you're doing a cost-benefit analysis, you also have to take maintenance costs into consideration," he advised.
Robinson thinks the lights look "pretty slick," with their spaceship-like shape and individual cooling fans in each unit. And he's pleased with the energy savings, the five-year guarantee and the brightness.
"They look pretty good. They look pretty bright to me," Robinson said. "I was concerned they weren't going to be bright enough, but turns out I don't have to worry about that."
In a shop that is open seven days a week (9 a.m. to 10 p.m. weekdays and 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. Sundays) the net result of all of the energy efficient upgrades is significant. The savings are turning out better than the estimates.
The refrigeration upgrades have been in place for more than two years and the LED lights for nearly one year, and the store's total power usage, from 2012 compared to 2014, has dropped by 42 percent reduction.
"We're talking about some pretty hefty decreases," Robinson said.
For a savvy business owner whose motto is "I'm from Missouri, show me," the case for energy efficient upgrades was made and matched.
"The proof is in the pudding," Robinson said.
Carbondale businesses can get $8,000 for energy efficiency projects
Funds can be applied to existing buildings or new construction
Existing businesses and new commercial buildings going up this year in Carbondale can apply for grants of up to $8,000 to help pay for measures that improve energy efficiency. The Town of Carbondale is offering a total of $40,000 to fund at least five grants. Projects must be completed in 2014.
"We're looking for energy upgrades that will reduce overall use of natural gas and electricity by at least 20 percent," said CLEER Energy Coach Maisa Metcalf.
"If business owners already have an innovative energy efficiency project in mind, now is the time to move forward. This grant offer is a great deal because it can be combined with other rebates to cover up to 70 percent of the project costs," Metcalf added.
For new construction, the grant can be applied toward energy modeling to meet the town's new commercial green building code, for projects that go beyond the code in energy savings, or for commissioning completed projects.
"The new commercial green building code can significantly cut energy use in new buildings, but it will likely cost more to meet the code," said Erica Sparhawk, program manager for CLEER. "These grants from the town government will assist builders in meeting the code, and can be looked at as an economic development incentive."
The Town of Carbondale is also offering a free Energy Smart home assessment, valued at $400, for 12 homes purchased in Carbondale this year.
The Town of Carbondale is also offering a free Energy Smart home assessment, valued at $400, for 12 homes purchased in Carbondale this year.
To learn more about the Carbondale Commercial Green Grant, click here.
To learn more about the free energy assessment for Carbondale home buyers, click here, or contact CLEER at (970) 704-9200 or email@example.com.
DOE announces new furnace fan efficiency standard
The U.S. Department of Energy announced a new energy efficiency standard for furnace fans on June 25. It's the latest of eight finalized standards and nine proposed standards issued since President Obama announced his Climate Action Plan last year.
Furnace fans are used to circulate air through ductwork in home heating and cooling equipment. Last year, approximately 3 million furnace fans were shipped in the United States.
A standard fan for a 70,000-Btu-per-hour furnace consumes about 1,000 kilowatt-hours per year. This standard could reduce that energy use by 46 percent. The new standard will also help reduce carbon pollution by up to 34 million metric tons — equivalent to the annual electricity use of 4.7 million homes — and save U.S. residents more than $9 billion in home electricity bills through 2030.
Since the beginning of the Obama administration, the Energy Department has finalized new efficiency standards for more than 30 household and commercial products, including dishwashers, refrigerators, and water heaters, estimated to save consumers more than $450 billion through 2030.
In this issue
Colorado offers $60 million in incentives for electric, CNG vehicles and fueling
Parachute's solar flowers power
electric vehicle charging
Double efficiency upgrades yield 42% electrical savings for Roaring Fork Liquors
Carbondale businesses can get $8,000 for energy efficiency projects
DOE announces new furnace fan efficiency standard
Submit your news and events to
Clean Energy Economy News
Clean Energy Economy News accepts news, events and training information related to clean energy and sustainability for monthly publication. Send your items to Editor Heather McGregor at email@example.com
EPA hosts Denver hearings on Clean Power Plan
EPA will host hearings today and Wednesday in Denver on the Obama administration's Clean Power Plan.
ClimateWire reporter Nathaniel Massey previews the hearings in a 4.5-minute interview on E&E TV.
Two free lectures:
'Has global warming stopped?' and 'Coral reefs and climate change'
The Aspen Global Change Institute and Aspen Center for Environmental Studies present two free public lectures in August by scientists from the National Center for Atmospheric Research.
Dr. Gerald Meehl
Has global warming stopped? Understanding the ups and downs of climate in a changing world
6 p.m. Tuesday, Aug. 5
Dr. Joanie Kleypas
Coral reefs and climate change: an ecosystem meets its match
6 p.m. Tuesday, Aug. 19
Both lectures at the Aspen Center for Environmental Studies at Hallam Lake, 100 Puppy Smith St., Aspen. A wine and cheese reception will follow each talk.
Glenwood Springs Post Independent,
July 12, 2014
Roof project helps
Methodist Church go green
There's more than meets the eye with a major roof replacement project under way at the First United Methodist Church of Glenwood Springs that's expected to be completed early next month.
In addition to removing several layers of asphalt and wood shingles to make way for new composition-type shingles, the church also is investing in several energy efficiency upgrades.
That includes new insulation panels on the steep-pitched sanctuary roof and an 11.6-kilowatt solar electric array on the south-facing side of the roof.
Glenwood Springs Post Independent,
July 20, 2014
New clinic fits Valley View
to Carbondale
Roaring Fork Family Practice moves into a beautiful new space today, a triumph for both clinic owner Valley View Hospital and a town that emphasizes community and environmental consciousness.
The clinic is the first major public building constructed after Carbondale adopted a version of the International Green Construction Code. Since June 2013, new commercial buildings and major commercial renovations in town are subject to the code, albeit with some revisions.
Rifle Citizen Telegram, July 18, 2014
Rifle city buildings reach
'net zero' electrical goal
The City of Rifle produced enough power through its seven solar arrays to reach a net zero status for its electricity needs, an official with Garfield Clean Energy recently told City Council.
In an annual report to the council, Shelley Kaup said seven city facilities are monitored by the online Energy Navigator system, allowing Garfield Clean Energy to track solar production, energy usage, energy spending and carbon dioxide emissions.
Grand Junction Daily Sentinel,
June 29, 2014
Solar project nears completion
Construction has begun on a solar array project at 2930 D 1/4 Road expected to generate $5.3 million in energy savings over two decades for its local subscribers.
California-based solar energy development firm Ecoplexus is building the solar array using local contractors on 10 acres of School District 51 land in Pear Park.
Subscribers to the project will pay their monthly subscription fees by passing credits from Xcel's Solar*Rewards program back to Fresh Air Energy VIII, another name for Ecoplexus, and receive reduced energy rates in return.
Denver Business Journal, July 15, 2014
Colorado energy bills are
the cheapest in nation,
report says
Monthly energy bills for Colorado residents are the lowest in the nation, according to a study by WalletHub, a consumer focused website.
The new study looked at three areas: electricity, natural gas and monthly fuel consumption.
Colorado ranks No. 1 for the cheapest monthly energy cost of $301, followed by Washington state at $302 and Montana at $305.
New York Times, July 17, 2014
Without Much Straining, Minnesota Reins In Its Utilities' Carbon Emissions
While other states and critics of the Obama administration have howled about complying with its proposed rule slashing greenhouse gas emissions from power plants, Minnesota has been reining in its utilities' carbon pollution for decades — not painlessly, but without breaking much of a sweat, either.
Today, energy consumption is growing more slowly than Minnesota's robust economy, and greenhouse-gas emissions have basically been level since 2000. And some legislators have begun dreaming big.
Last year, the Legislature approved another clean-energy measure: a study of the prospects for making Minnesota's economy carbon-free, from the power-hungry wheat and sugar beet fields in the west to Minneapolis-St. Paul's car-clogged freeways in the east.
"There was some rolling of eyes," said state Sen. John. Marty, the measure's sponsor, "but it passed. The states that are going to have the best economies are the ones that are planning ahead."


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Arsène Wenger criticised Stoke City supporters who targeted Aaron Ramsey with tasteless chants about his broken leg during the Gunners' goalless draw at the Britannia Stadium.
The home crowd taunted Ramsey by singing "he walks with a limp" six years after the Welsh midfielder's leg was broken by a challenge from Potters captain Ryan Shawcross.
Bad blood remains following Wenger's criticism of Shawcross and Ramsey's initial refusal to accept the defender's apology, and it spilled over again on Sunday.
Wenger said: "I have no influence on it and I don't know what generally you should do about it.
"When people get together sometimes they forget their individual responsibility. Maybe when you go home and watch it on television you are less proud. I focus on the game.
"I shut my ears – I think that's best way to deal with it."
The Frenchman also brought a pointed response from opposite number Mark Hughes after claiming Stoke had adopted a "physical" style to hold the Premier League leaders to a draw.
"Overall it was a battle - an old fashioned Stoke battle because they made the game very physical," said Wenger.
"The crowd was up for it, the players were up for it. They went for a very direct game and we had to show a physical response, solidarity, fighting spirit, togetherness, which we did."
But a clearly surprised Hughes responded: "I've just heard Arsène say he was a bit surprised that we went direct.
"I'm not quite sure what game he's been watching.
"I don't think there was a yellow card. I don't know why the physical aspect of the game has to be mentioned.
"I thought it was a good football game with both teams trying to play and win a key Premier League game."


text: Scottish pumped hydro plan challenged TOPICS:Coire GlasJohn Muir TrustScotland Posted By: Energy Storage Report October 17, 2012 It could create 150 local jobs and supply energy to around 1 million homes, says energy company SSE. But if the John Muir Trust has its way, the Coire Glas hydro scheme might never be built, according to Scottish newspaper The Herald.The Trust's main objection is that is that the dual reservoir system cannot be classed as a source of renewable energy as it would use more energy than it could produce (an unassailable point, as it is clearly intended for energy storage rather than generation) and must obey the laws of thermodynamics. This misleading complaint aside, the Trust says that the first new pumped hydro facility to be built since the mid-60s would ruin the local landscape and encourage more wind turbines, a renewable resource that the organisation has already attempted to demonise, if reports in the local press are anything to go by. Due to the size of the project, ministers from the Scottish Parliament will have the final say on the matter, but any substantial objections by the local Highland Council would trigger a public inquiry which could result in the project being axed. No related stories.


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1 Bhk House Interior DesignPosted on
With over 20 original designs ranging from 14 to 22 squares, the Smart Living Series offers a selection of modern, highly functional floor plans. Eden Brae pride ourselves on designing fresh modern new homes. When it comes to style and value for money, we have an excellent team who take extra care in their work to produce sophisticated and elegant new home designs. We offer a wide range of design styles and block sizes to suit any budget.
Baby boomers preferred rustic décor and plenty of accessories. Luckily for us, Millennials are keen on functionality and minimalistic design to keep a clutter -free home. That's not to say that rustic and natural materials aren't found in their homes, they are just limited in number. Part of this is due to the smaller spaces they are occupying , but it's also because the increased use of technology means many accessories that were once physically found in the home can now be condensed into the palms of their hands.
This generation is the most sustainability-focused generation ever. They're looking for renewable energy sources within apartment blocks, sharing resources, supporting surrounding independent businesses and using green materials. Almost half of Millennials are interested in solar panels for their homes, and show a keen interest in growing their own food. Gardening is good for the environment and works well with recent healthy living trends. Expect to see more small gardens, window-box gardens, or community gardens where this generation takes up residence.
There are many directions you can take when planning each room. Deciding on which room is most important, and what you use it for, is a useful idea. For example, if you would like a bedroom which is a personal getaway from the rest of the house, then choosing calming colours and a … Read More . . .


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Flys Love And A Molotov Cocktail tab
The Flys are an early punk band with a sound similar to 999 and the buzzcocks, they're CD's are hard to find but this song can be found on the punk: the worst of total anarchy compilation albums ----------------------------------------------------------------- Love and A Molotov Cocktail - Flys ----------------------------------------------------------------- Tabbed by: Dillon Email: email@example.com Tuning:Standard O.K. This tab is going to go a little different than you're used to. This song is played in full chords (except for the riff) so it is easier to just list all the chords used and then put them in the order played for the verse and the chorus. The list of chords and how to play them is at the bottom of this document. They're all barre chords.Intro and Main Riff:e|---------------------------------------------------------------|B|---------------------------------------------------------------|G|----4------6---------------------------------------------------|D|----2----0-4-0-------------------------------------------------|A|---------------------------------------------------------------|E|-030--030------------------------------------------------------|For the verse each chord is strummed string by string downstroke and only once each then it rests for a few beats and then plays the next chord. Verse: E B D A (Play 4 times) For the chorus the chords aren't strummed slowly like the verse. You can figure out the strumming pattern and how many times to play the chords yourself, its really easy. Chorus: E F# G D ACHORDS USED: E B D A F# Ge|-0-|-2-|-5-|-5-|-2-|-3-|B|-0-|-4-|-7-|-5-|-2-|-3-|G|-1-|-4-|-7-|-6-|-3-|-4-|D|-2-|-4-|-7-|-7-|-4-|-5-|A|-2-|-2-|-5-|-7-|-4-|-5-|E|-0-|-2-|-5-|-5-|-2-|-3-|#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------# #This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the # #song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. # #------------------------------------------------------------------------------#


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Browsing Department of Earth Science by Title
Now showing items 1-20 of 436
3D seismic architecture of Pleistocene submarine channels and lobe complexes in the thin-skin deformed slope of the Levantine Basin (The University of Bergen, 2013-06-03)The current study describes the architecture of Pleistocene-Holocene depositional features that is affected by the underlying structurally topography. The study area is located offshore Israel, at the Levantine Basin of ...Master thesis
3D seismic geomorphology of submarine channel-levee systems in salt-related slope setting: a case study from the western deepwater Egypt (Universitetet i Bergen (UiB), 2013-07-02)High resolution 3D seismic dataset has been used to examine gravity-driven deposits from the Plesitocene to present-day in the structurally complex area of the western Nile deepwater. The underlying Messinian salt and its ...Master thesis
3D seismic stratigraphy and reservoir characterization of the Chalk Group in the Norwegian Central Graben, North Sea (The University of Bergen, 2011-12-08)Doctoral thesis
3D stochastic modelling of fault zones in siliciclastic reservoirs. Implications for reservoir description and fluid flow modelling (The University of Bergen, 2014-12-16)Fault zones in siliciclastic rocks form distinct volumetric entities and typically exhibit great structural complexity. While it has been considered that the main impact of fault zones to fluid flow is to baffle or block ...Doctoral thesis
3D structure and formation of hydrothermal vent complexes at the paleocene-eocene transition, the Møre basin, MID-Norwegian margin (Society of Exploration Geophysicists, 2017-08)The mid-Norwegian margin is regarded as an example of a volcanic-rifted margin, formed prior to and during, Paleogene breakup of the northeast Atlantic. The area is characterized by the presence of voluminous basaltic ...Journal article
Abrupt changes in sea ice and dynamics of Dansgaard-Oeschger events (The University of Bergen, 2017-12-01)Changes in sea ice are proposed as an important component in Dansgaard-Oeschger events; the abrupt climate change events that occurred repeatedly during the last ice age. Paleoclimatic reconstructions suggest an expansion ...Doctoral thesis
Accretionary history of Lower Ordovician island arc complexes on Bømlo: evidence from detrital zircon dating and geochemical data (The University of Bergen, 2017-06-13)The provenance studies of sedimentary sequences associated with island arc complexes on Bømlo within the ophiolitic terrain of SW Norway has demonstrated that the provenance signature of these sedimentary rocks changed ...Master thesis
Ambient noise levels and detection threshold in Norway (Springer, 2016-07)Ambient seismic noise is caused by a number of sources in specific frequency bands. The quantification of ambient noise makes it possible to evaluate station and network performance. We evaluate noise levels in Norway from ...Journal article
Analyse av seismiske data innenfor Gullfakslisensen - implikasjoner for tolkningen av topp NER (The University of Bergen, 2003)Master thesis
Analytical and numerical studies of fluid reservoirs and fracture development in heterogeneous rocks (The University of Bergen, 2009-06-29)Doctoral thesis
Anatomy and allostratigraphy of deep-marine Mount Messenger Formation (Miocene), eastern-margin Taranaki Basin, New Zealand (The University of Bergen, 2003)Purpose of study: Sedimentological description of outcropping deep-water clastics within Mount Messenger Formation. Study area: North-Taranaki coastal region, North Island, New Zealand. Methodology: Mapping on foot and ...Master thesis
Anisotropic Properties of a Mid-Lithospheric Discontinuity in eastern North America (The University of Bergen, 2017-06-23)During the last few years the occurrence of a mid-lithospheric discontinuity (MLD) has been observed in lithospheric studies of cratons. Studies using receiver functions have focused mainly on extracting high resolution ...Master thesis
Antropogen påvirkning og bæreevne i turistgrotter: Grønligrotta, Mo i Rana (The University of Bergen, 2018-06-20)Grønligrotta er den eneste turistgrotta i Norge med innlagt belysning og god tilrettelegging for turister. Hensikten med denne masteroppgaven har vært å undersøke hvordan turistene påvirker miljøet i grotta, og om dette ...Master thesis
Applied Structural Geology – Case Studies of Underground Constructions and Rockslides (The University of Bergen, 2008-02-26)An understanding of the structural elements in the sub-surface is of great importance when establishing new constructions in bedrock, or surveying areas prone to rockslides. In this thesis the focus has been on combining ...Doctoral thesis
Arctic Holocene proxy climate database – New approaches to assessing geochronological accuracy and encoding climate variables (Copernicus Publications, 2014-08-29)We present a systematic compilation of previously published Holocene proxy climate records from the Arctic. We identified 170 sites from north of 58° N latitude where proxy time series extend back at least to 6 cal ka (all ...Journal article
Assessing linkages between ice sheet calving, subpolar gyre hydrography and deep water ventilation during the last glaciation (The University of Bergen, 2017-06-23)It is commonly postulated that ice sheet dynamics and freshwater perturbations in the North Atlantic were linked to disruptions in deep water circulation and North Atlantic cooling in the past. However, the exact nature ...Master thesis
Basement structure and its influence on the structural configuration of the northern North Sea rift (American Geophysical Union, 2017-06)The northern North Sea rift basin developed on a heterogeneous crust comprising structures inherited from the Caledonian orogeny and Devonian postorogenic extension. Integrating two‐dimensional regional seismic reflection ...Journal article
Basin-scale architecture of deeply emplaced sill complexes: Jameson Land, East Greenland (The Geological Society of London, 2016)Igneous sills are common components in rifted sedimentary basins globally. Much work has focused on intrusions emplaced at relatively shallow palaeodepths (0 – 1.5 km). However, owing to constraints of seismic reflection ...Journal article
Bruddsystem og spenningsfelt tilknyttet tunneltraséen Ringveg Vest i Bergen (The University of Bergen, 2003)Denne hovedfagsoppgaven er en del av forundersøkelsene som er utført i sammenheng med tunnelprosjektet Ringveg Vest i Bergen kommune, Hordaland, som har driftstart i 2005. Ringveg Vest er planlagt å ligge cirka 4 kilometer ...Master thesis


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The sailing season has started on the harbour with the usual busy programme. Taster sessions are booked well ahead and we look f orward to another successful summer.\n
We welcome any adults – ei ther parents or friends – who would like to join our active team. If you w ould like to become more involved\, please speak to the Officer of the Day at any of our taster sessions\, and they will show you how to help and wi ll recommend subsidised training.\n
Adult training courses will be taking place on the following dates:\n
|Level 1\n
|26th – 27th May\n
|Level 2\n
|30th June – 1st July\n
|Level 3\n
|14th – 15th July\n
Level 1 introduces sailing for adults new to sailing. The course will provide a basic understanding of dinghy handling techniques and background knowled ge of sailing. Crewed boats Bahias and Wayfarers are used for this course. Ability and knowledge should be consolidated in Level 2.\n
Participants atte nding both days will aim to attain the RYA Level 1 certificate.\n
For more details on the cour ses\, including cost and booking details\, please see the web site Avon Scouts County Sailing Section RYA Courses\n
We look forward to seeing you!\n
Tickets: http://www.ascss.org.uk/index.php/rya-courses.DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20180526 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20180528 GEO:+51.44731;-2.618445 LOCATION:Bristol Docks @ Nova Scotia Pl\, Bristol BS1 6XJ\, UK SEQUENCE:0 SUMMARY:RYA Adult Level 1 (Learn to Sail) Course URL:http://cotswoldedgescouts.org.uk/event/rya-adult-level-1-learn-to-sail- course-2/ X-COST-TYPE:external X-WP-IMAGES-URL:thumbnail\;http://cotswoldedgescouts.org.uk/wp-content/uplo ads/RYA-1-300x300.jpg\;252\;252\,medium\;http://cotswoldedgescouts.org.uk/ wp-content/uploads/RYA-1-300x300.jpg\;252\;252\,large\;http://cotswoldedge scouts.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/RYA-1-300x300.jpg\;252\;252\,full\;http:/ /cotswoldedgescouts.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/RYA-1-300x300.jpg\;252\;252 X-COST:£60 X-TICKETS-URL:http://www.ascss.org.uk/index.php/rya-courses END:VEVENT END:VCALENDAR