A real story... A
conversation between a passenger and Software Engineer in Shatabdi Train.
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 was 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 stockily built 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. Naiveness
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 crept 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 could see, he had the man where he
wanted, 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 centers across the country. Thousands of transactions
accessing a single database, at a time concurrently; data integrity, locking,
data security. Do you Understand the complexity in designing and coding such
a system?'
The man was awestruck; quite 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.'
This was like the last straw for Vivek.
He retorted, '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'.
He continued, 'To tell you about the
pressures, there is the customer at one end, always changing his
requirements, the user at the other wanting something else, and your boss,
always expecting you to have finished it yesterday.'
Vivek paused in his diatribe, his
belligerence fading with
Self-realization. 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 tri-colour
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 soft 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 sahib 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 and
brought that injured soldier into the bunker.Every morning thereafter, as we
stood guard, I could 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 how to respond. 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; 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 tri-colour. Suddenly, as if by impulse,
he stood up 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 narrated 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 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!
EVERYONE U MEET IS FIGHTING
A HARD BATTLE !
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