Monday, May 23, 2011

Tune Mere Jana Kabhi Nahi Jana... Ishq Mera Dard Mera...

Ho love of mine..
with a song and a whine..
You’re harsh and divine..
like truths and a lie..
but the tale end is not here..
I’ve nothing to fear..
for my love is yell of giving and hold on…
in the bright emptiness..
in a room full of it..
is the cruel mistress ho ho o…
I feel the sunrise..
that nest all hollowness..
for i have the way to go.. not come…
And i feel so lonely yea..
There’s a better place from this emptiness..
And i’m so lonely yea..
There’s a better please from this emptiness.. yei yei yei ya….
Aa.. aa.. aa…..

Tune mere jaana..
Kabhi nahi jana..
Ishq mera dard mera.. haaye…
Tune mere jaana..
Kabhi nahi jana..
Ishq mera dard mera …
Aashiq teraaa..
Bheed mein khoya rehta hai..
Jaane jahaan a..
Puchho toh itna kehta hai..
And i feel so lonely yea..
There’s a better place from this emptiness..
And i’m so lonely yea..
There’s a better please from this emptiness.. yei yei yei ya..

Friday, May 20, 2011

A conversation between a Soldier and Software Engineer in Shatabdhi Train...

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.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Wipro chairman Mr. Azim prem ji's comment on reservation

Wipro chairman Mr. Azim prem ji's comment on reservation: Good one.. read on....*

I think we should have job reservations in all the fields. I completely support the PM and all the politicians for promoting

this. Let's start the reservation with our cricket team. We should have 10 percent reservation for Muslims. 30 percent for OBC, SC/ST like that. Cricket rules should be modified accordingly. The boundary circle should be reduced for an SC/ST player. The four hit by an SC/ST/OBC player should be considered as a six and a six hit by a SC/ST/OBC player should be counted as 8 runs. An SC/ST/OBC player scoring 60 runs should be declared as a century. We should influence ICC and make rules so that the pace bowlers like Shoaib Akhtar should not bowl fast balls to our SC/ST/OBC player. Bowlers should bowl maximum speed of 80 kilometer per hour to an SC/ST/OBC player. Any delivery above this speed should be made illegal.

Also we should have reservation in Olympics. In the 100 meters race, an SC/ST/OBC player should be given a gold medal if he runs 80 meters.

There can be reservation in Government jobs also. Let's recruit SC/ST and OBC pilots for aircrafts which are carrying the ministers and politicians (that can really help the country.. )

Ensure that only SC/ST and OBC doctors do the operations for the ministers and other politicians. (Another way of saving the country..)

Let's be creative and think of ways and means to guide INDIA forward...

Let's show the world that INDIA is a GREAT country. Let's be proud of being an INDIAN..

May the good breed of politicians long live..

Sunday, May 8, 2011

maa......

Dard hua to dil se awaz aye maa
Takleef hue to yaad teri aye maa
Jab Sab na chor deya Mutlabi bewafa kah ke
Phir majhey tere achal ki yaad aye maa

Main kitna badnaseeb hoon
Logo se piyaar maanga maine Mile majhey Tanhai
Tuney Bin maanga Kitna piyaar deya
Aur main teri hi kadar na kar saka maa

BadGumani mein har ek ko maine Seena se lagaya
Bus Badnaseebi to dheko bus tujhey hi apne galey se na laagaya maa

Duniya ki ranginyon mein kohya raha
bus ek tujh hi ko bhool ka sab ke pecha bhagta raha
Teri Tanhaiyon mein ek pal bhi tere saath na raha
Main badnaseeb teri maafi ka kabil bhi na raha

Jab Hosh mein aya To maloom hua ke
kio apna nehi bus tere siwa maa

Teri goad main sar rakh ke ro ro ke mout-e-faryad ki dua ki
Maa na rote rote apni zindagi apni khushiya bhi mere naam ki

Main Kitna beaqal kamzarf hoon
Tera khwab bhi pura na kar saka main tere leya kuch bhi na kar saka maa

Maine kitne dhuk deya
Aur tuney uff tak na ki maa
tuney kabhi na saath chora
Na kabhi kuch kaha majhey tuney maa

bus ek khwab hai zindagi ka
beshak kuch mile na mile
main kuch bano ya na bano
bus ek arman hai zindagi ka

Main ek dafa teri goad main sar rakh so sako maa
woh sakoon-e-neend pana chahta hoon maa
Bohat dard ho raha hai maa
apne hathon se mere zakham-e-dard ko mita do maa......