FOR TECHHIES OUT THERE............

Hi all.....This blog is dedicated to all the s/w engineers and the brave soldiers who shed their lives to keep us safe and happy....hats off to them..
Take your time to read this....comments will measure your intensity of patriotism........
(note:this is a forwarded mail to me and not my own creation...........)



Software Engineers think they create everything in the world...Read till
end....too good...

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. Major 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!





-thanx for ur time......and hope this was an eye opener for u......and for me it certainly was.....

waiting for comments
urs
-harsha bhat