Date: July 6, 2008 (Sunday)
The morning sun crept zily into Aritra Naskar's room, slipping through the cracks of the dusty window like an uninvited guest. Aritra groaned, rolling over and squinting at the ancient wall clock that ticked with the smug satisfaction of having disturbed his sleep.
7:30 AM.
Ugh, why do Sundays even exist if I have to wake up early?
But this wasn't just any Sunday. This was the day when the entire household came alive with the smell of spices, the sound of sizzling pans, and the promise of a delicious mutton curry ter in the day. The weekday hustle of school, work, and studies faded into the background, repced by the warmth of family time and hearty food.
However, before the culinary chaos began, Aritra had a date with Newton's Laws of Motion. He dragged himself out of bed, mumbling compints about gravity being too effective.
After spshing his face with cold water, he sat at his desk, the Legendary System interface flickering faintly beside his WBJEE prep book.
Time to pretend like this physics stuff isn't child's py now, he thought, smirking.
The first chapter he tackled was the First Law of Motion.
"An object at rest stays at rest unless acted upon by an external force," Aritra read aloud.
Ah yes, much like me in bed this morning, until that cursed sunlight became the external force.
He breezed through the basic concepts, solving MCQs faster than the system could refresh his mock test timer. But Aritra knew that the real challenge y in the complex numerical problems that WBJEE was infamous for.
He flipped to the tougher section, his eyes narrowing at a particurly nasty problem:
"A block of mass 5 kg is pced on a rough inclined pne making an angle of 30° with the horizontal. The coefficient of static friction between the block and the incline is 0.4. Determine whether the block will slide down the pne. If it does, find the acceleration."
Oh, friction. The arch-nemesis of many students. But not me.
Aritra scribbled quickly:
Calcuted the component of gravitational force parallel to the incline: 5 * 9.8 * sin(30°) = 24.5 N Normal force: 5 * 9.8 * cos(30°) = 42.44 N Maximum static friction: 0.4 * 42.44 = 16.98 N
Since 24.5 N > 16.98 N, the block will slide.
Acceleration? Easy.
Net force = 24.5 - 16.98 = 7.52 N Acceleration = 7.52 / 5 = 1.5 m/s2
Done. Next!
Another question stared at him:
"A pulley system has two masses, 4 kg and 6 kg, connected by a light inextensible string over a frictionless pulley. Find the acceleration of the system and the tension in the string."
Aritra yawned dramatically. At this rate, I should be teaching tuition instead of attending it.
He solved it in under two minutes:
Net force = (6 - 4) * 9.8 = 19.6 N Total mass = 10 kg Acceleration = 19.6 / 10 = 1.96 m/s2 Tension = 4 * (9.8 + 1.96) = 47.04 N
By 11 AM, he was done with the homework and had scored a solid 98% on the mock test. The 2% he missed was due to marking the wrong option in haste.
Cssic overconfidence, huh? Aritra chuckled.
Just as he leaned back in triumph, the familiar scent of mustard oil, garlic, and slow-cooked mutton curry wafted into his room, hijacking his senses.
"Aritra!" his mother's voice echoed from the kitchen.
"Yes, Ma?" he replied, already knowing what was coming.
"Come help me with the cooking. Stop pretending to be Einstein."
Ah, the summons of the Bengali matriarch… Resistance is futile.
He shuffled to the kitchen, where his mother stood like a general commanding an army of onions, garlic cloves, and spice jars.
"Cut the onions," she ordered, handing him a knife and a mountain of onions that could reduce an entire army to tears.
"Sure, Ma. Anything to help," he said sweetly, then whispered under his breath, Let's see if Newton's ws apply to emotional damage.
As he chopped, he struck up a conversation.
"Ma, do you think Newton cried while cutting onions?"
His mother paused, giving him the cssic Bengali mother gre—a mix of suspicion and mild amusement.
"I don't know about Newton, but you'll cry if you don't finish these quickly."
Touché, Ma.
They bantered back and forth as Aritra expertly dodged both tears and the occasional pyful scolding.
"Ma, if I apply the ws of motion here, technically, the knife is doing all the work, right?"
"No, genius. It's your ziness doing the work of making excuses."
They both ughed. Aritra peeled garlic, diced potatoes, and stirred the curry under her watchful eyes.
"You know," his mother mused, "you're better at chopping onions than solving your math problems."
"That's because onions don't have quadratic equations," Aritra retorted.
By 1 PM, the kitchen smelled divine. The mutton simmered gloriously, and Aritra proudly cimed victory over both physics and onions.
After lunch, as he sat zily in the living room, his mother passed by and ruffled his hair.
"You did good today," she said with a rare softness.
Aritra grinned. Physics and onions… not a bad combination after all.
And as the day faded, Aritra realized that Sundays weren't just for rest. They were for small victories—academic, culinary, and the occasional well-timed sarcastic remark.
