12-17-2006, 03:04 AM
came in via email
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->IN THE LINE OF FIRE⦠REALLY WORTH READING!!!
Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the
air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi express could not cool his
frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to
air travel. It was not the prestige he sought, he had tried to reason
with the admin person, it was the savings in time. As PM, he had so
many things to do. He opened his case and took out the laptop,
determined to put the time to some good use.
"Are you from the software industry sir," the man beside him was
staring appreciatively at the laptop.
Vivek glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop
now with exaggerated care and importance as if it were an expensive
car.
"You people have brought so much advancement to the country sir. Today
everything is getting computerized."
"Thanks," smiled Vivek, turning around to give the man a look.
He always found it difficult to resist appreciation. The man was young
and stocky like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of
place in that little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep
school. He probably was a railway sportsman making the most of his
free traveling pass.
"You people always amaze me," the man continued, "You sit in an office
and write something on a computer and it does so many big things
outside."
Vivek smiled deprecatingly. Naivety demanded reasoning not anger. "It
is not as simple as that my friend. It is not just a question of
writing a few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it."
For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software
Development Lifecycle but restrained himself to a single statement.
"It is complex, very complex."
"It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid," came the reply.
This was not turning out as Vivek had thought. A hint of belligerence
came into his so far affable, persuasive tone.
"Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we
have to put in.Indians have such a narrow concept of hard work. Just
because we sit in an air-conditioned office does not mean our brows do
not sweat. You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe
me that is no less taxing."
He had the man where he wanted him and it was time to drive home the point.
"Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway
reservation system is computerized. You can book a train ticket
between any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized
booking centres across the country. Thousands of transactions
accessing a single database, at a time concurrency; data integrity,
locking, data security. Do you understand the complexity in designing
and coding such a system?"
The man was stuck with amazement, like a child at a planetarium. This
was something big and beyond his imagination. "You design and code
such things."
"I used to," Vivek paused for effect, "But now I am the Project Manager,"
"Oh!" sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over, "so your life
is easy now."
It was like being told the fire was better than the frying pan. The
man had to be given a feel of the heat.
"Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder.
Responsibility only brings more work. Design and coding! That is the
easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and
believe me, that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done
in time and with the highest quality. To tell you about the pressures,
there is the customer at one end always changing his requirements, the
user wanting something else and your boss always expecting you to have
finished it yesterday."
Vivek paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with
self-realisation. What he had said, was not merely the outburst of a
wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while
defending the truth. "My friend," he concluded triumphantly, "you
don't know what it is to be in the line of fire."
The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization.
When he spoke after sometime, it was with a calm certainty that
surprised Vivek.
"I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire," He was
staring blankly as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast
expanse of time.
"There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in the
cover of the night. The enemy was firing from the top. There was no
knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom. In
the morning when we finally hoisted the tricolour at the top only 4 of
us were alive."
"You are a..."
"I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 J&K Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in
Kargil. They tell me I have completed my term and can opt for a land
assignment. But tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it
makes life easier. On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues
lay injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while we were hiding
behind a bunker. It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to
safety."
"But my captain refused me permission and went ahead himself. He said
that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put
the safety and welfare of the nation foremost followed by the safety
and welfare of the men he commanded."
"His own personal safety came last, always and every time. He was
killed as he shielded that soldier into the bunker. Every morning now,
as I stand guard I can see him taking all those bullets, which were
actually meant for me. I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line
of fire."
Vivek looked at him in disbelief not sure of his reply. Abruptly he
switched off the laptop. It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a
word document in the presence of a man for whom valour and duty was a
daily part of life; a valour and sense of duty which he had so far
attributed only to epical heroes.
The train slowed down as it pulled into the station and Subedar
Sushant picked up his bags to alight.
"It was nice meeting you sir."
Vivek fumbled with the handshake. This hand had climbed mountains,
pressed the trigger, and hoisted the tricolour. Suddenly as if by
impulse,he stood at attention and his right hand went up in an
impromptu salute. It was the least he felt he could do for the
country.
PS: The incident he narrates during the capture of Peak 4875 is a
true-life incident during the Kargil war. Capt. Batra sacrificed his
life while trying to save one of the men he commanded, as victory was
within sight. For this and his various other acts of bravery he was
awarded the Param Vir Chakra the nation's highest military award.
Live humbly, there are great people around us, let us learn!
Winners are too busy to be sad, too positive to be doubtful, too
optimistic to be fearful and too determined to be defeated!
<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->IN THE LINE OF FIRE⦠REALLY WORTH READING!!!
Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the
air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi express could not cool his
frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to
air travel. It was not the prestige he sought, he had tried to reason
with the admin person, it was the savings in time. As PM, he had so
many things to do. He opened his case and took out the laptop,
determined to put the time to some good use.
"Are you from the software industry sir," the man beside him was
staring appreciatively at the laptop.
Vivek glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop
now with exaggerated care and importance as if it were an expensive
car.
"You people have brought so much advancement to the country sir. Today
everything is getting computerized."
"Thanks," smiled Vivek, turning around to give the man a look.
He always found it difficult to resist appreciation. The man was young
and stocky like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of
place in that little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep
school. He probably was a railway sportsman making the most of his
free traveling pass.
"You people always amaze me," the man continued, "You sit in an office
and write something on a computer and it does so many big things
outside."
Vivek smiled deprecatingly. Naivety demanded reasoning not anger. "It
is not as simple as that my friend. It is not just a question of
writing a few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it."
For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software
Development Lifecycle but restrained himself to a single statement.
"It is complex, very complex."
"It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid," came the reply.
This was not turning out as Vivek had thought. A hint of belligerence
came into his so far affable, persuasive tone.
"Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we
have to put in.Indians have such a narrow concept of hard work. Just
because we sit in an air-conditioned office does not mean our brows do
not sweat. You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe
me that is no less taxing."
He had the man where he wanted him and it was time to drive home the point.
"Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway
reservation system is computerized. You can book a train ticket
between any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized
booking centres across the country. Thousands of transactions
accessing a single database, at a time concurrency; data integrity,
locking, data security. Do you understand the complexity in designing
and coding such a system?"
The man was stuck with amazement, like a child at a planetarium. This
was something big and beyond his imagination. "You design and code
such things."
"I used to," Vivek paused for effect, "But now I am the Project Manager,"
"Oh!" sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over, "so your life
is easy now."
It was like being told the fire was better than the frying pan. The
man had to be given a feel of the heat.
"Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder.
Responsibility only brings more work. Design and coding! That is the
easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and
believe me, that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done
in time and with the highest quality. To tell you about the pressures,
there is the customer at one end always changing his requirements, the
user wanting something else and your boss always expecting you to have
finished it yesterday."
Vivek paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with
self-realisation. What he had said, was not merely the outburst of a
wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while
defending the truth. "My friend," he concluded triumphantly, "you
don't know what it is to be in the line of fire."
The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization.
When he spoke after sometime, it was with a calm certainty that
surprised Vivek.
"I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line of fire," He was
staring blankly as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast
expanse of time.
"There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in the
cover of the night. The enemy was firing from the top. There was no
knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom. In
the morning when we finally hoisted the tricolour at the top only 4 of
us were alive."
"You are a..."
"I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 J&K Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in
Kargil. They tell me I have completed my term and can opt for a land
assignment. But tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it
makes life easier. On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues
lay injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while we were hiding
behind a bunker. It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to
safety."
"But my captain refused me permission and went ahead himself. He said
that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put
the safety and welfare of the nation foremost followed by the safety
and welfare of the men he commanded."
"His own personal safety came last, always and every time. He was
killed as he shielded that soldier into the bunker. Every morning now,
as I stand guard I can see him taking all those bullets, which were
actually meant for me. I know sir, I know what it is to be in the line
of fire."
Vivek looked at him in disbelief not sure of his reply. Abruptly he
switched off the laptop. It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a
word document in the presence of a man for whom valour and duty was a
daily part of life; a valour and sense of duty which he had so far
attributed only to epical heroes.
The train slowed down as it pulled into the station and Subedar
Sushant picked up his bags to alight.
"It was nice meeting you sir."
Vivek fumbled with the handshake. This hand had climbed mountains,
pressed the trigger, and hoisted the tricolour. Suddenly as if by
impulse,he stood at attention and his right hand went up in an
impromptu salute. It was the least he felt he could do for the
country.
PS: The incident he narrates during the capture of Peak 4875 is a
true-life incident during the Kargil war. Capt. Batra sacrificed his
life while trying to save one of the men he commanded, as victory was
within sight. For this and his various other acts of bravery he was
awarded the Param Vir Chakra the nation's highest military award.
Live humbly, there are great people around us, let us learn!
Winners are too busy to be sad, too positive to be doubtful, too
optimistic to be fearful and too determined to be defeated!
<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->