PPP - Photo Fun on a bored night…

Hiya…
    I’ve got loads of stuff to do… But I’m lazy… I dont want to do the stuff… But now I’m bored. So I checked out my 5 year old low end Logitech camera, and to my delight (uh…) I found that it was still working!!!

    I took out my black marker, and had some fun with my hand, while publicizing my new favuorite website :P Everyone, have a look at my hand advertising PayPerPost! If you dont know it yet, PayPerPost, or PPP, is a website focusing on Consumer Generated Advertising - which is the advertising by users, technically consumers, thereby analyzing a better stand in the marketing. In layman’s terms, THEY PAY YOU TO BLOG! :P :P :P
    By the way, if you’re going to sign up at PayPerPost.com, please use the referrer id as
“coolmohan@gmail.com” … Now check out my picz :)


    Like they say in Cricket, HOWZAT?
    I just happen to be in the mood of more fun :P     1 marker = $0.50
    1 hand     = $ 5000
    1 toilet soap for washing = $ .75
    1 hand mutilated by the ad of a consumer generated advertising company - PRICELESS!

    :) I had my fun. You had yours :) Aloha for now ;)
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In the line of fire…

Hello all,
    I came across this very meaningful message in a forwarded email. YES, a forwarded email. I usually receive hundreds of forwards, which I direct to “Archive” in my Gmail account, but this one caught my eye. I’m sure you will appreciate it as well!

    It is about 2 Indians talking in a 1st class compartment in an Indian train. But before I begin, I would like to say that the moral of the story takes root in war - and this post is NOT meant to promote non-violence, but to instill the thoughts of humility… Read on… :)

In the 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. APM 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 detailed 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.

“Ohcome 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!

    Hmmm. I sense that you’re moved by the story… So were I… :) Interesting to note how things turn out… So anyway, I hope I have conveyed the message I wanted to convey. Thanks to “Mohan D Menon” from “Coimbatore, India” for this wonderful mail! :)

Cheerios….


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