Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the
air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdhi 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 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. Naive ness 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. 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 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 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 valor 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 tricolour. 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.
So never run away from ur duty...dont get upset and depressed by small obstacles of life..Remember of what you have achieved and feel proud of it and prepare urself for the new heights you wanna conquer...
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