by HH » Tue Oct 24, 2006 9:33 am
* Mon, 23 Oct 2006
Please spend 5 min and read this .... this is quite moving, amazing
and awe-inspiring …. leaves one a rather humbled man …..
The It of IT & Grit …
Line of Fire
Vivek Pradhan wasn't a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the First
Class air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi express couldn't
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 guy, it was the savings in time. A PM
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." "Hard work!" "Indians have such a narrow concept
of hard work. Just because we sit in an air-conditioned office doesn't
mean our brows don't 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 centers across the country.
Thousands of transactions accessing a single database at a given
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 don't 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. And 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 tricolor 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 valor and duty was a
daily part of life; a valor 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 was the hand that had
climbed mountains, pressed the trigger and hoisted the tricolor.
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. Captain 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!
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