[LeadersWorkshop] Fw: :~~Story..~~~..How We all typical Corporate Culture take Peace and security Granted.~~~..Very Touching .Line of fire..~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rajendra.Deshpande.
Trainer.

: Line of fire

 

A gossip between a passenger and Software Engineer in

Shatabdi Train ...........An interesting must read!
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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 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.
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.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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