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nichromein · 6 months ago

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Leading Packaging Machines, Packaging Systems Manufacturer | Nichrome

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threesmallcrows · 9 days ago

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MattMelloWeek Day 3: First Date / New Beginnings

The night before Matt left rehab, Mello drove over to his house and cleaned it.

Matt’s rehab facility was well-known, expensive, acclaimed and highly decorated. Who knew that they gave out awards to rehabilitation clinics, but they did, and it had won them. Best of Los Angeles, 2006 - 2011. More to the point, the facility had worked for Mello. Therefore, Matt should be no big issue.

“You think I have fewer problems than you,” Matt accused, the night before he left.

“I don’t think that.”

“You do.”

He tapped his cigarette off into Mello’s car’s cupholder. “You think I have less problems and they’re smaller and, like, easier to deal with.”

Mello resisted the urge to claw into the cupholder and throw the ashes out the window. “No one is saying your life is easy. Ash outside.”

Matt stabbed the window-down switch. “Basically, everything is my own fucking fault,” he complained, over a hot stream of traffic, but he was running out of steam. Mello had never once claimed that Matt’s addiction was his fault; how could he, when Mello too had been an addict? Who’d once undergone surgery to fix his cocaine-perforated septum?

“Can they fix your snoring too?” Matt had joked at the time.

Mello helped pack the last few pairs of underwear into the suitcase, since Matt had by then wilted totally, and was slumped silently by the headboard, arms slack around a pillow.

That had made Mello a little angry. His posture of enduring being sent away. As if the rehabilitation was a punishment Mello was visiting on him, and not a medical decision he had consented to as an adult. If you didn’t want to sign the forms, you shouldn’t have signed them.

But he had written: Matthew Jeevas, Matthew Jeevas. He departed for 100 days of inpatient treatment. Tomorrow, he was coming home. It should be a nice home, Mello thought, unlocking the front door. He deserved that.

The washing machine was broken and the drying machine was broken and the microwave was missing its plate.

He found the plate on the nightstand, where Matt had been using it to crush his powders.

Mello brought the plate to the kitchen and rinsed it, and replaced it atop the turntable ring. He pulled on gloves and disassembled the towers in the sink. He killed the mold at the sink’s bottom. He killed marching lines of ants with long brushstrokes of bug spray, harvested their corpses with swipes of paper towel. Only with the house less rife did he begin to pick items off the floor, which felt at first like picking leaves from a forest: futile and neverending.

Whey packets, self-help novels, empties and loosies.

Frustrated, arms beading sweat inside their rubber casing, Mello began to do what he swore he wouldn’t, which was to toss things of Matt’s which were clearly beyond redemption. If Matt wanted a new sachet of whey, Mello would be happy to buy him one which wasn’t 2 years expired. If he wanted a self-help book Mello would loan him a library card.

He didn’t own a library card, but how hard could it be to get one? Children had them. It would be easy.

The drugs went in the toilet, obviously; Mello didn’t worry over those.

The holey boxers and broken-necked cables and $1 buy-one-get-one red-stickered DVDs—he’d stopped worrying about, also.

Quarter-full shampoo bottles. Stained restaurant clamshells.

It was 08:30 by the time he finished hoovering (with a vacuum he hauled over from his own flat, since Matt’s was, of course, broken), and then there was no time for sleep, because in half an hour he had to leave to pick him up.

Matt had sold all his working appliances to afford his dealer’s prices.

Mello showered quickly in the stall he’d just cleaned and felt vaguely dissatisfied.

You’re just sleep-deprived, he told himself. Strong front.

And then there was Matt, looking neither well nor unwell in the passenger seat.

“Hi.”

“Yeah, hey.”

“You look—better.”

“I guess I’m supposed to be.”

Emitting a very muted energy, as Mello negotiated the fast lanes of the freeway.

“Wow,” he said, monotonously, as he stepped through the door.

“Did some cleaning.”

“I see that. You threw all my stuff away.”

A headache process booted up in Mello’s upper-right temple. “I didn’t ‘throw away all your stuff’. I kept everything you’d want,” he said, showing Matt the possessions he’d neatly binned for him, organized and stacked against the bedroom wall.

“Because you know completely what I do and don’t find valuable.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right, I should have kept all the moldy takeout so you could finish eating the mold out the bottom. I should have kept your socks with fifty holes in them.”

“What if my mom knitted me those socks?”

“Your mom never knitted you any socks, she was a fucking heroin fiend,” snapped Mello.

Matt’s eyes bugged slightly, where he was crouched over a bin, which is how Mello knew he’d taken him off guard. With his meanness and undeserved cruelty.

You went there, dude. You went to “dead mom”.

Stop it, enough. Apologize. Mello didn’t, because he felt that actually Matt owed him an apology. For spending 13 hours cleaning his house, and receiving not a syllable of gratitude.

Fuck. How was it all going so wrong already?

Mello caved first and retreated. He went outside to the tiny landing over the stairs, to look out over the overgrown backyard. He hadn’t tried to do anything about the yard, because it didn’t make Matt sad the way the inside of the house did. Its messiness was okay. Milkweed and cactus, weeds in tire planters.

A leak of steam from down the wall announced that Matt was in the shower.

He emerged onto the patio bare-chested, with a towel around his shoulders.

When he saw Mello was smoking, he held his hand out and said, “Don’t leave me hangin’.”

Matt sucked down the cigarette like a soda on a hot day. “They tried to get me to quit this too,” he added, sliding Mello’s carton over and extracting a new stick. “I was like, come on. You gotta give me something.”

“Like, if you only feed me broccoli, I’m gonna bust out of Alcatraz,” he joked.

“What did they feed you?”

“We had, uh, turkey tetrazzini. ‘Sloppy Joes’.”

Matt squeezed around the grimed lawn chair in the corner, which brought him into Mello’s orbit. He edged behind him to put his forehead on his back.

“It looks like when I moved in,” he said, resting his elbows on Mello’s waist. “The house. It kind of freaked me out. I mean, it’s nice, but. I guess I feel like you have these, like, high expectations of me, and I’m afraid I won’t meet them.”

“I don’t have expectations of you.”

“Wow, thank you.”

Mello revised: “My expectation of you is you come with me to Tito’s and you pay for my quesabirria.”

“Done. As long as I don’t have to eat a vegetable.”

“You’ll have to eat a vegetable, eventually.”

“Okay, fine. Tomorrow."

#mattmelloweek2024 #matt x mello #death note #fanfic #crow.original #matt develop a balanced diet challenge (he's never going to do it)

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wr1t3w1tm3 · 1 year ago

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Will Turner Wednesday Post!

Decadent

Potc5/Modern/Coffee shop/Will out of Water AU

SFW, a couple of f-bombs

Words: 3,269

She takes him to what she calls a coffee shop. A packed one at that. They wait silently in line, she preoccupied with a slim purple and black rectangle that glowed. Will busied himself with observing those around them. The strange new clothes, the many, probable majority of them women, and the majority of them garbed in trousers. My, wouldn’t Elizabeth have been pleased. Many tack away at gray and black machines which glow like the one in Mary’s hand. Some pour over books with garish colored instruments and a few speak with those across and around them. Two young women bustle behind what looks awfully similar to a bar top, preparing a myriad of things in a multitude of cups.

“What’ll it be?” The blonde situated between a large glowing machine and a little wooden basket filled with multi-colored sachets leans against the counter, a small smile graces her weary face.

Mary leans against the bar top, glancing behind the girl at a top lined with clear bottles of multi-colored liquids. For all he cares, the place could be an apothecary lair. It most certainly looks the part. “Um, can I get a large hot, ah, chai latte please. Dirty,” she turns to Will, gesturing at Joan with her chin, “what do you want, Will?”

He freezes, his mouth open slightly and his eyes darting about. He is completely out of his element, a fish out of water if one would. He couldn’t tell port from starboard if this were a ship, and it seems the girls can tell. Joan looks to Mary, who takes a step back to check a black board hanging above them. “Uh… just do a hot chocolate. Large still. And the dirty chai is my shift drink.”

“When do you come in?” Joan asks, apparently writing on what must be a white cup.

“I close tonight. Plus I picked up the next shift.”

“Aw, and right after break too?”

“Yeah. I need the money. Plus I had to stay over night in KC anyway because of how bad the snow was supposed to be this down south this morning.”

“Down south?”

“Yeah. Wichita is supposed to see more snow than Kansas City.”

“Maybe there really was something to all that climate change stuff, huh?” A smile cracked Joan’s lips, and Mary nodded with a chuckle. “That’ll be five-twenty.”

Mary produces a slim, colorful something from the black pouch hanging from her wrist. Joan takes it and slides it along the edge of her magic, glowing box. Will is able to see that the yellow specks on the pouch are, in fact, flowers of some sort. “Was you’re break good?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, it was nice to just be home and rest.” Joan smiles and seems almost reminiscent.

“Oh yeah. Slept in every day I could,” Mary adds with the same smile, “have a good one.”

“You too.” Joan sets the cups against the bar top with a hollow pop, at the end of a line about six long.

“Come on,” Will turns to find Mary seated at the bar. She motions to the chair next to her, which remains empty for now. Will’s forced to squeeze past a few young women, who he hears giggle with each meek “pardon me” that escapes his lips. Mary rolls her eyes once he’s seated, turning to the other young woman behind the bar. “How was your break, Carolee?”

“It was great, love,” the young woman replies, turning to a gleaming silver machine set against the wall. Within a divot sit three tiny glass cups, two full with water, one being filled with an earthy brown liquid from the spout above. It smells strong, a little bitter, yet a might sweet. “How was yours?”

“It was fine, ‘sides havin’ to stay in KC overnight. Wichita was forecast to get anywhere from four to eight inches of snow.”

“That’s south of here, right?” Carolee, her auburn hair tied back in a small ponytail not unlike his own, moves quickly, removing some little metal basket with a long handle from the machine and placing it at another.

“Yeah. I was there over break.”

“Funny,” she hits a button, and the machine begins grinding something brown and course into the little metal basket. It’s rather loud though. “We barely had any snow in Cody when I left yesterday to fly out.”

“I know. We’re in a la nina. Or el nino,” Mary shakes her head lightly, a dismissing the notion with a wave of her hand. “Whichever one is less common. We haven’t had snow at all for the last couple years then suddenly we get a freakin’ dump truck piled on top of us.”

Will has no idea what a dump truck is, but he assumes it’s something rather large. Carolee grabs the little basket, sets it against the bar, swirls then pushes the contents down with two different tools, and finally pushes it back into the machine. She presses a button just above it and with a bit of a groan, the same brown liquid pours from the machine into an empty glass cup. She takes one cup which is full and dumps it into one of the white cups on the bar top. In a metal pitcher she produces from who knows where, she pours something white - hopefully milk - and brings that over to the machine. She slips a gleaming metal wand into it, and with the flick of a lever it roars to life, pulsing into the milk. A moment later, she flips the switch back and sets the pitcher on the bar top. It steams as she gently hits it against the bar top, and with the white cup in her opposite hand she gracefully pours the hopefully milk into the white cup. The brown liquid from before rises to the top and once she’s nearly run out of milk, it comes to the surface and she adds a small heart.

She sets the white cup down, and with a strong voice shouts out “Vanilla Lavender latte for Jack!”

Will glances over his shoulder. A force of habit really. “...his name?”

“Will Turner. He’s apparently my cousin.”

Apparently the women had continued their conversion without his knowledge. Will turns back to the bar top. Carolee looks him over, he can feel her eyes searching him with some intensity, at the same time she stirs the contents of another white cup. Her blouse is a rather garish orange color, with some words he can’t quite understand and what look to be several stains. She then turns to Mary, eyebrow cocked. “What do you mean apparently.”

Mary leans back in her chair, drawing a knee up and holding it there with her hands. “Mom’s Mexican side. Nobody really talks ‘bout that side ‘cause there’s supposedly some gang ties in Chicago or somethin’.”

Carolee’s eyes go wide. Will feels his do the same. Whatever Mary just said can’t be good. “Gees, girl, okay. Vernon!” She slides another white cup across the bar top and sets it next to Will, but she continues. Her conversation and her work. “Where are you from Will.”

“You said somewhere in England, right?” Mary jumps in, shooting daggers where his heart should be. “Brighton, right?”

“Yes. Brighton.” He parrots. He has no idea where Brighton is, but Carolee is busy and doesn’t notice the brief panicked look that flies over his face.

Mary shakes her head, chuckling a little. “I only managed to remember cause it’s the place that one British guy mentioned this viral video he made about how to American’s, the like, two hours it takes to get from Brighton to London is a day trip or whatever.”

“That’s cool. What brings you to the states, Will?”

“Work,” he says crisply, with a lick of his lips, “I was hired to work on ships not far from here.”

“Somewhere in Kansas City, I think.” Mary adds.

Carolee nods, sliding a cup to Mary. “Here’s your dirty chai. And you’re hot chocolate is coming right up.”

“Thanks Carolee,” Mary stands, leaving Will alone for just a few seconds. A precious few seconds.

Carolee asks a question. “What kind of work do you do on these ships?”

Will glances out the window past Carolee’s head. “Mostly building them, though I have Captained a vessel before.”

“That’s cool.” Carolee slides another white cup across the top, this time to him. Mary appears to his starboard, a shiny black thing in her hand. She takes Will’s cup, sliding it towards herself a ways and snapping the thing on top of it. Evidently it was some sort of a lid. “Thank’s Carolee. Have a good one.”

“You too. Nice to meet you Will.” She turns back to the machine. Will stands. “And you as well, ma’am.” Mary practically forces the drink into his hands and he follows her out into the building the coffee shop resides within.

He ducks close to her ear to whisper “You lie like a pirate lass.”

“I doubt that’s a complement,” she mutters, stopping, then motioning towards a fireplace on the opposite side of the building. “Nobody every sits over here.”

They sit in two red leather chairs, one across from the other, the fire place between them. Mary takes a sip from her cup, through a small hole Will discovers in the black lid. She sets hers on a small wooden table next to her chair. Will opts to hold his, the warmth welcome as his hands have yet to fully warm from the frigid weather outside.

“I meant that as a complement.” Will says, his tone even.

Mary rolls her eyes, leans back in her chair, and crosses her arms. She really does look like Elizabeth now. Particularly a cross Elizabeth. “Elizabeth could lie with her hands on the Bible. There was nary a way any mortal man could tell.”

“Lovely.” Mary whistles, then pauses. Suddenly, she leans forward and begins an interrogation “Where are you from really?”

“Port Royal. However, I was born in Glasgow.”

“What year?” her voice is sharp. Her brow furrowed.

That… that is something Will couldn’t be sure of. He knows for a fact his and Elizabeth’s wedding was in 1728… or 9. “I lived there no later than 1729.”

“Port Royal or Glasgow?”

Will frowns, he hadn’t been very clear, had he? “Port Royal. Elizabeth and I were to be wed at the fort in either 1728 or twenty nine. However, we were rather rudely interrupted by one Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company.”

“Fuck,” she grumbles, glancing out at the main section of the great common room. A great frown has appeared over her face. “What were your kids name? You said something about a kid, right?”

Will doesn’t quiet remember if he’d mentioned him, but that matters not now. “I had only the one, Henry.”

“The one who married Carina?”

“Aye.” He did mention Henry.

“Did they have kids?”

Will smiles fondly, nodding. “Several. William was the eldest, then Grace, Michael, and little Lizzie was the youngest.”

“Did any of them have kids?” Something clicks, and Will glances from the dancing flames in the heart to Mary. She seems to be scrawling away at her forearm with a black stick. He shakes his head, unsure if he should chuckle or scold the girl.

Will turns back to the fire and shuts his eyes, trying to picture them. He’d only met a select few of them, the ones he was now forced to assume where the eldest. “I know of very few. William’s George and Henry where his only that I knew. Grace had an infant named Carlisle and I believe Michael adopted a child by the name of Finnegan after Andrew was born.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Will knows he should never have spoken them. Mary’s face clouds, and she reaches for her drink, taking a sip perhaps to hide her face. But her stormy eyes are harder to hide, even if they are kept locked away behind heavy spectacles.

“This is going to be… difficult. Hell, that’s a fuckin’ understatement.”

“If it is of any assistance, the last time I saw any of them was the 1820’s.”

“We’ll see if it does,” She seems to consider something a moment, then she begins to ramble, “if I check the men’s names, and I back track from mom, there’s only like two or three generations I’m missin’.”

“Is it possible?” Will finds himself asking the question with bated breath.

“I need time,” she glances at something on her wrist. A watch, he guesses. They’d become quite fashionable to be worn at the wrist. “And I don’t have that now. I work in thirty minutes.”

Will nods, standing. “I’ll take my leave, then?”

Mary groans when she stands, and turns back to collect her cup. “Yeah, come on, I’ll let you grab your stuff out of my room.”

She seems to know the path better than he does. Once they return to her room and she clambers up to retrieve his blade, he mentions he’s not quite sure how to get back to the bluff from where they are. But Mary drops from the top bunk once again, and with a loose cough motions for him to follow.

She leads him along a gray path that runs parallel to what appears to be the main black road. There are a few more adolescents milling about. When they jog to the gray path opposite them Will spies a young woman flinging herself into the tender arms of her patient love. He’s a tall, scraggly thing, topped with a bushy head of brunette hair. Mary mutters “idiota” as they turn along another, shorter black path where the gray path falls away. Mary contents herself with acting as a tight rope walker along the red raised edge, and he slips behind and treads along the grass to her port. Rising to their starboard is the grand stone building he’d first seen once he emerged from the wooded path.

“What is that?” He asks.

Mary glances at it. She only shrugs, “That’s the abbey. Monks live there.”

They continue in silence. She leads him along the black path until it abruptly turns gray and loose. They trek up the winding hill, sweeping wide around the trees. Mary avoids the weeping willow leaves all together, her face screwing in disgust as a hand searches her scalp for intruders.

At the top of the hill and too their port is the cemetery, and to their starboard is the bluff. He starts towards it, cutting Mary off. A protest strangles in her throat as she catches sight of what is just over the bluff. Will looks back, a cheeky smile on his lips “Come along. Keep up!”

Grass crunching is enough confirmation for him, and Will bolts, full sail. He reaches the bluff first, slowing enough that his stop against the railing is graceful rather than painful. Mary slows much farther back and stalls a few paces from the ledge. Her hands hang at her sides, her mouth agape, eyes wide, barely blinking.

Will moves to her, taking her hand in his and guiding her forward. No need to prompt, she follows willingly. He draws her along to the edge and sets her palm to the cold metal bar, his over top. Her other finds the bar immediately, and he lets his own do the same.

The Flying Dutchman is a magnificent vessel. Davy Jones had spent far to long at sea, allowed the muck and scum to overcome her hull and crew. But Will, Will had always kept her sparkling. Her sails fluttered in the breeze, bleached white and perfectly mended. Her hull free of barnacles, decks scrubbed bright even through a hurricane’s volley of salt and wind. She is beautiful, she is faithful, and she is all Will has left in the mortal world.

“Holy shit,” Mary curses softly, taking a single, faltering step back. “You… is that yours? Holy shit.”

Will chuckles, “I should hope so.”

“Does it have a name?”

“The Dutchman. However, if I were to be precise, her full names is the Flying Dutchman.”

Mary splutters, pacing. “Je… Jesus fuckin’ christ! How… how the actual’ fuckin’ hell did you get that this far up the river?!”

“The same magic that allows me to walk upright deprived of my heart.” He offers her a hand, one she either disregards due to convenience or truely fails to take stock of. Will clears his throat and only then - after a little jump - does Mary quell her pacing and eye the hand.

“What’s that for?”

“Now that you have seen, oh thee of little faith,? Will ribs with a smile, “does our accord stand still?”

Mary nods with a humph, and shakes his hand. “Yeah, but I need time.”

Their hands part. Will cocks a brow. His gut begins to churn. “How much?”

Mary hesitates, bobbing her head too-and-froe. It only further wittles at Will’s nerves. How long could it possibly take her to verify what he has said? Has he not provided proof enough?

“Three days,” she assures. “Give me three days to double check what you’ve said. To see if we really are related.”

“Where should we meet?”

Mary shrugs. “Here is fine. How about noon on day three?”

Will feels a frown tug down the corner of his lip “How will I know?”

“Listen for the clock. It goes off twelve times at twelve. I might be a minute or two late since I’ve got class right before then, but I’ll be here.”

“Very well,” Will looks to the Dutchman again. “I’ll be off then.”

“Just, do me a favor and stay on your ship.” Mary’s voice is stern, though concerned. “I promise we can talk about this more later, I’m sorry I’m running so short on time, but you need a serious reality check as far as modern life and manners go and I don’t want you to get into any trouble or anything.”

Something pangs against his chest. Will isn’t sure whether it’s grief, resignation, resentment… probably all of that and much more. He’s spent so long on the Dutchman, so very long away from land. The thought of returning there, even if it is for but three days makes his skin crawl. But he has no idea how long he’ll be, well, marooned here, no idea of what his fortune might hold, and he’s morbidly sure he’ll need help. He doesn’t want to acquiesce to such stringent terms, but he’s got as much a choice as he did when he became the Dutchman’s captain.

“We have an accord,” he offers his hand with a smile his heart’s not in.

Well, that’s not saying much as his hearts not even in him.

Mary shakes it again, though she appears bewildered. “Sounds good. I’ve got to get back, but I’ll see you at noon in a few days. Okay?”

“Aye” Will nods, turning to the path. It twists almost immediately away through the trees. Scrawny little poplars and ashes, yet without any light from the heavens, they’re dying leaves block most the light.

Mary throws a nonchalant “See ya!” over her shoulder, and she crunches back through the grass, to the path. Will, with a deep, clammy breath, ducks under a branch to begin his trek. It’s a ways down, and three days to wait.

Compared to three centuries, those three days are less than a drop in the bucket. And for that, Will is incredibly grateful.

#will turner wednesday #fanfiction #potc fanfiction #will turner #original female character #coffee shop #coffee shop au #modern au #canon divergence #little bit of crack #pirates of the caribbean

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pacpack-machineries · 2 years ago

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yscpackagingmachine · 11 months ago

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Sachet Packing Machine: Efficient and Precise Packaging Solutions

Explore the efficiency and precision of our Sachet Packing Machine. Designed for various industries, our machine ensures accurate and reliable packaging for a wide range of products. Discover how our advanced technology can streamline your packaging process, providing consistent and high-quality sachet packing solutions.

#Sachet Packing Machine

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tanishkapackagingmachine · 35 minutes ago

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Tanishka Packaging Machines: Leading Pouch & Box Packing Machine Manufacturers in Jaipur, India

When it comes to packaging machinery, Tanishka Packaging Machines stands out as a reliable name in the industry. Located in Jaipur, Rajasthan, Tanishka Packaging Machines is a renowned manufacturer of high-quality packaging solutions, including pouch packing machines and box packing machines. With years of expertise, innovation, and commitment to quality, the company has become a trusted partner for businesses looking to enhance their packaging operations.

Why Choose Tanishka Packaging Machines?

State-of-the-Art Technology The company uses advanced technology and cutting-edge machinery to ensure that every product meets the highest industry standards. Whether it’s pouch packing or box packing, Tanishka Packaging Machines incorporates precision engineering to deliver equipment that guarantees high performance and reliability.

Customizable Solutions Every business has unique packaging needs, and Tanishka Packaging Machines understands this perfectly. They offer customizable packaging machines that cater to a wide range of industries. Whether you are in food, pharmaceuticals, cosmetics, or any other sector, Tanishka Packaging Machines provides tailor-made solutions that meet your specific requirements.

Durability and Longevity One of the hallmarks of Tanishka Packaging Machines is the longevity of its products. The packaging machines are built to last, ensuring that businesses get value for their investment over time. With robust construction and high-quality materials, these machines are designed to withstand the rigors of daily use, providing long-term performance without the need for frequent repairs or replacements.

Comprehensive Range of Packaging Machines Tanishka Packaging Machines offers an extensive portfolio of packaging machinery. From pouch packing machines for small to large-scale operations to box packing machines in Rajasthan, they provide solutions for diverse packaging needs. Their machines are suitable for both automatic and semi-automatic packaging, offering businesses the flexibility to choose the right equipment based on their production scale and budget.

The Advantages of Box Packing Machines

Box packing machines are an integral part of packaging lines across various industries. These machines help businesses to package products into boxes efficiently and securely. Tanishka Packaging Machines’ box packing machine in Rajasthan is designed to deliver high-speed, reliable performance for businesses of all sizes. Some key advantages include:

Improved Efficiency: Box packing machines streamline the packaging process, reducing labor costs and increasing throughput.

Enhanced Protection: These machines ensure that products are securely packed, reducing the risk of damage during storage and transportation.

Consistency in Packaging: With automated settings, box packing machines ensure uniformity in packaging, which is essential for branding and customer satisfaction.

Versatility: These machines can handle a wide variety of products, from fragile items to bulk goods, making them versatile for different industries.

Pouch Packing Machines: A Key Product Offering

Tanishka Packaging Machines’ pouch packing machines are known for their precision and speed. These machines are ideal for packaging powders, granules, liquids, and other products in pouches. The machines come with advanced sealing and filling technologies, ensuring minimal wastage and accurate measurements. The machines also feature user-friendly interfaces, making them easy to operate and maintain.

Whether you are packaging food items, pharmaceuticals, or non-food products, the pouch packing machines from Tanishka Packaging Machines offer the following benefits:

Flexibility in Packaging Sizes: These machines can accommodate a wide range of pouch sizes, from small sachets to larger bags, catering to various packaging needs.

Automatic Filling & Sealing: Automated filling and sealing mechanisms reduce the need for manual labor, making the process faster and more accurate.

Cost-Effective: The efficiency of pouch packing machines helps reduce operational costs by lowering labor expenses and reducing material wastage.

Tanishka Packaging Machines: Your Trusted Partner in Packaging Solutions

In addition to offering high-quality pouch and box packing machines, Tanishka Packaging Machines also provides exceptional after-sales support, ensuring that their customers get the best service even after the purchase. Their team of experts is always available to provide guidance on machine installation, maintenance, and troubleshooting, ensuring minimal downtime and continuous productivity.

As one of the leading packaging machine manufacturers in India, Tanishka Packaging Machines is committed to helping businesses scale and optimize their packaging operations. With a focus on innovation, customer satisfaction, and quality, they continue to be the preferred choice for businesses in Jaipur, Rajasthan, and across the country.

Contact Tanishka Packaging Machines Today

Whether you need a box packing machine in Rajasthan or a state-of-the-art pouch packing machine, Tanishka Packaging Machines is here to meet your needs. Explore their wide range of packaging solutions and take your business to the next level. Reach out to them today for more information and to get a customized quote based on your packaging requirements.

Conclusion

In the competitive world of packaging, Tanishka Packaging Machines has proven to be a leader in providing top-tier machines that enhance productivity, reduce costs, and ensure high-quality packaging. As pouch packing machine manufacturers and box packing machine manufacturers in Rajasthan, they continue to be at the forefront of packaging technology in India. With a focus on innovation, efficiency, and customer satisfaction, Tanishka Packaging Machines is the go-to choice for businesses across industries.

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nichromepackaging · 1 year ago

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#spice packaging machines #automatic packaging machines #packaging machine manufacturers #innovative packaging solutions #vertical form fill #horizontal packaging machines #sachet packing machine #integrated packaging solutions

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shivshaktimachtech · 3 days ago

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Tomato Sauce Filling Machine Servo Based

Shiv Shakti Machtech is a Manufacturer, Exporter, and Supplier of Tomato Sauce Filling Machine Servo Based across India. Our Manufacturer Unit is in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India. Shiv Shakti Machtech is a leading manufacturer and supplier of high-performance Servo-Based Tomato Sauce Filling Machines, designed to meet the precise filling requirements of the food processing industry. Our machines deliver accuracy, speed, and hygiene, making them ideal for small to large-scale production lines. Similar Sauce Bottle Filling Technology Machinery: Tomato Sauce Filling Machine, Ketchup Filling Machine, Automatic Tomato Sauce Servo Filling Machine, Automatic Sauce Tin Can Filling and Sealing Machine, Tomato Sauce Packing Machine, Automatic Liquid Filling Machine – Servo Based, Automatic Hot Tomato Sauce Filling Machine, Servo Automatic Sauce Filling Machin, Tomato Sauce Packaging Equipment, Tomato Sauce Bottling Machine Types of Tomato Sauce Filling Machines: Single-Head Servo Filling Machine Multi-Head Servo Filling Machine Automatic Servo-Based Filling Machine Semi-Automatic Filling Machine Custom Configurations Features: Servo Motor Technology: Ensures precision in filling volumes. Stainless Steel Construction: Durable and easy to clean, ensuring compliance with food-grade standards. Touchscreen Control Panel: Offers user-friendly operation and programmable settings. Adjustable Filling Nozzles: Accommodates various bottle sizes and shapes. Anti-Drip Mechanism: Prevents spillage and waste. High-Speed Operation: Enhances productivity for large-scale operations. What types of containers can this machine handle? Our machines can fill glass bottles, plastic jars, pouches, and even sachets. How accurate is the filling process? The servo-based design ensures high accuracy, typically within ±1% of the desired volume. Can this machine handle different viscosities? Yes, it is designed to handle various viscosities, from thin liquids to thick sauces. Is the machine suitable for small-scale production? We offer semi-automatic and single-head models that are perfect for small-scale operations. Shiv Shakti Machtech is a Supplier of Tomato Sauce Filling Machine Servo Based in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India Including Kathwada, Vadodara, Changodar, Gota, Naroda, Nikol, Mehsana, Palanpur, Deesa, Patan, Vapi, Surendranagar, Bhavnagar, Jamnagar, Junagadh, Rajkot, Amreli, Mahuva, Surat, Navsari, Valsad, Silvassa, Porbandar, Mumbai, Vasai, Andheri, Dadar, Maharashtra, Aurangabad, Kolhapur, Pune, Rajasthan, Jaipur, Udaipur, Kota, Bharatpur, Ankleshwar, Bharuch, Ajmer, Delhi, Noida, Baddi, Solan, Himachal Pradesh, Una, Jammu Kashmir, Haryana, Hisar, Gurgaon, Gurugram, Madhya Pradesh, Indore, Bhopal, Ratlam, Jabalpur, Satna, New Delhi, Kolkata, West Bengal, Assam, Asansol, Siliguri, Durgapur, Bhubaneswar, Odisha, Brahmapur, Puri, Goa, Amaravati, Andhra Pradesh, Visakhapatna, Hyderabad, Guntur, Chittoor, Kurnool, Vizianagaram, Srikakulam, Karimnagar, Ramagundam, Suryapet, Telangana, Medak, Bengaluru, Bangalore, Mangaluru, Hubballi, Vijayapura, Davanagere, Kalaburagi, Chitradurga, Ballari, Kolar, Chennai, Coimbatore, Madurai, Tiruchirapalli, Tiruppur, Salem, Erode, Tirunelveli, Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Kochi, Thiruvananthapuram, Kozhikode, Thrissur, Kollam, Alappuzha, Kottayam, Kannur, Malappuram, Bharatpur, Jodhpur, Bikaner, Alwar, Bhilwara, Nagpur, Amravati, Solapur, Malegaon, Navi Mumbai, Thane, Wardha, Vasai-Virar, Gondia, Hinganghat, Barshi, Ulhasnagar, Nandurbar, Bhusawal, Pimpri-Chinchwad, Kalyan, Satara, Yamuna Nagar, Chhachhrauli. For more information or to request a quote, please reach out to us. View Product: Click Here Read the full article

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