When I got transferred from Kalgi Site to Kamalapur Site, I thought—“Okay, new place, new work, new challenges.”
But little did I know, the real challenge would come rolling on four massive wheels called Hydra. 😅
On 12th October, our company hired a hydra to load and unload pipes. Everything was smooth, professional, and on schedule… until it wasn’t.
Two days later, at exactly 3:40 PM, my phone rang.
“Sir, the hydra didn’t reach the site!”
What?! 😳
My brain: “Wait, what do you mean didn’t reach?”
Because at 1:45 PM, I literally watched that same hydra leave the stock yard like a proud soldier going to war.
And it takes only 45 minutes to reach the site. Even if it stopped for a cup of chai, it should’ve been there.
So where was it now? Lost in another dimension?
Nope. The truth was way funnier.
I called the hydra operator. No answer.
Called again. Still no answer.
So I decided—time to go detective mode. 🕵️♂️
Scene 2: The Great Mud Rescue Mission
As I was on my way to the site, I suddenly spotted something yellow, massive, and… half-buried on the roadside.
Yep, there was our hydra, looking like it had decided to take a nap inside the mud. 😭
The operator saw me coming and rushed like a kid caught stealing mangoes.
“Sir, sir, listen… a truck got stuck here, so I just stopped for 2 minutes to help him pull it out!”
Oh really? Two minutes? Then why are you here after two hours, covered in mud, and the hydra looks like it’s auditioning for a village tractor commercial? 😏
Let’s be honest—no hydra operator on Earth helps someone without profit.
And this one? Definitely not a charity worker.
I could smell the deal from a mile away: “Boss, thoda paisa de do, main kheech deta hoon.”
Scene 3: Operation JCB Jadoo
When I started clicking pictures (evidence, of course 😎), the operator suddenly turned emotional.
“Sir please, don’t tell my owner… my salary will get stuck!”
A second later, the truck owner also joined the emotional party—
“Bhaiya please, don’t take any action for God’s sake!”
Now there were two grown men almost ready to cry, and a hydra that looked guilty.
They quickly arranged one JCB to pull out the hydra.
Did it work? Nope. The hydra said, “Main nahi niklungi.”
Then they brought another JCB.
Now we had two JCBs and one hydra in a tug-of-war with the Earth itself.
Finally, after a lot of drama and flying mud, the hydra came out, looking like it survived a swamp battle.
No damage—just some wounded pride and a dirty paint job.
Scene 4: The Aftermath
I didn’t shout at the operator right there.
But in the evening, back at the guest house, I gave him a solid “Manager-style scolding”—with expressions, sarcasm, and moral lecture included.
He stood silently, nodded like a student caught sleeping in class, and finally said—
“Sir, thank you for not telling anyone.”
And I smiled… because I didn’t tell anyone.
I told you guys—on my blog. 😂
Moral of the Story:
Never trust an operator who says, “Sir, bas do minute ka kaam hai.”
Because those two minutes can turn into two hours, two JCBs, and one unforgettable mud comedy show.