FAITH

Faith is the final quotient for human beings. It’s the beginning and it is the end too. After all, it is the faith which enables humans to pass on their respective batons from the various stages of their lives to the most worthy successors.

The young men and women joining any profession pledge their lives and re-affirm the faith of the Nation into its new generation. The various facets of the training and molding of these men and women are oriented towards ingraining the component of faith into these volunteers. The entry and exit from the portals of training institutions is quick as time flies by dealing with well laid out curriculum. The final outcome is supposed to be a well trained individual on whom the faith can be affirmed. These individuals then go on to don the hats of leaders in various walks of life and steer their followers. Humans have a natural tendency to follow a leader. It is bitter but a known truth that civilizations have always thrived because faith has been bestowed upon a leader. Many a great empires came crashing down because the leader could not steer the conundrum of the proclaimed faith and the conglomeration of humans withered away. Many a times, the leaders dispatch their select followers to spread their version of faith to far flung zones on this planet. Faith does have a tendency to travel as it is extremely capable of influencing the humans under various stages of stress and strains.

The night was dark and cold was bitter. Mercury had refused to climb up and the scent of the prowling intruders had not yet hit the nostrils of young Lieutenant Jimmy. Jimmy was a young Officer in an Army Battalion and had earned his coveted Commission just about 05 months ago. Cheerful and ever smiling, Jimmy was a strapping soldier and had trained at the National Defence Academy and the Indian Military Academy before joining his Battalion. His ever smiling face had helped him to establish his faith with his men. He was quickly inducted into the environment of his Battalion. He drilled, ate, slept and moved with his men to affirm their faith into his leadership skills. It was crucial as the Battalion was in Counter-Insurgency Role and often went into mission modes.

The cherubic Jimmy was participating well in the teams on constant hunt for bringing glory to the historic traditions of his Battalion. The faith had been building up between Jimmy and his environment. One fine morning, the Battalion got a confirmed information about an intrusion from across the border. The ambush had to be laid in different positions and Jimmy got an opportunity to lead an independent team. He was young and spirited. The boys had developed faith in him in a short time. The ambush was laid and the teams at various locations awaited the infiltrators. Each team anticipated action even as the snow carpeted the sector. The night was still and the cold was bone biting.

The ambush look outs saw a movement across the culvert. The infiltrators were sighted as they moved carrying their heavy loads. The challenge was made and the guns erupted sniper fire. Jimmy’s boys took the enemy head on and the fight broke out. The enemy guns were powerful and they carried heavy shelling capability. Jimmy saw his buddy going down as a volley of shots hit him. Next to take the hit was his radio and now Jimmy had a full battle on his hand. He had broken the enemy’s pace but he had to hold them till re-enforcement arrived. Jimmy’s boys were taking in damages but their faith in their Commander kept them going strong. Jimmy looked at his watch. The actions had been unfolding for some time and he knew it was now or never. Lifting his gun, Jimmy got up from his trench and launched an assault on the infiltrators. He had to save his men from further damage. Firing his weapon at the hidden infiltrators, Jimmy took a long leap and landed right amidst the enemies. Bullets were flying from all sides. He was now akin to Abhimanyu inside the Chakravayuh. Akin to Abhimanyu, he had to re-affirm the faith that his Battalion had entrusted in him. Jimmy got up singlehanded but he was big hearted. He won over the 04 infiltrators but not before being fatally shot himself. Jimmy became yet another martyr for the Nation, but, not before re-affirming the faith that the Nation had bestowed upon him. He also re-affirmed the faith of his men, his instructors, his teachers, his friends and his parents. The infiltrators could not penetrate beyond Jimmy’s watch and the snow turned red before turning white again.

Faith is never in question. It is the unequivocal truth. The best mates for the faith are the human will power and courage. Adversity can never be questioned and Murphy has the tendency to counter faith every now and then. It is the faith that always helps to overcome the adversities of life. There is a small gap between victory and loss. A loss can also be converted into victory provided faith is established in its right context.

Every human is born equal. The facets of life take charge the moment the first gulp of planet’s oxygen enters the expanding lungs. The faith starts cementing itself quietly and strongly. Humans have to keep their faith in themselves and in humanity to get going in this myriad world. Jimmy had faith in his men and his men had developed an indomitable faith in Jimmy. He had to save his men from the Harm’s Way and in a befitting manner of his Battalion’s glorious traditions to maintain the honor of the Nation. Jimmy had faith and it was faith that gave him conviction to stand up and charge towards the enemy lines. We all are Jimmy’s in our own lives. There are moments when we have to charge and re-affirm faith. The humanity needs faith more than ever- in humanity itself. So, get up, take charge and re-affirm that faith.      

     

SPEED THRILLS

The stage was all set. Finally, Jimmy was standing on the stage which he always dreamt to reach. His calloused hands were itching to do what his mind knew the best. He was running a silent prayer inside his heart and his eyes had shut down for those moments. He could hear his own breath even as the restless crowd was anticipating a new performance. Jimmy was oblivious of the crowd’s heat. His mind was by now focused at a distant point. The sweat beads had built on his brow as he concentrated hard. Throwing his flowing mane forward and back, Jimmy opened his eyes to the crowd’s frenzy and his fingers let the first of the sound waves go out of his Guitar. The crowd let go of itself as Jimmy let loose his Guitar and his band “Traffic Jam” exploded the scene on the stage. Bon Jovi was set aside as Jimmy opened up with a great satire- You Give Love a Bad Name. Jimmy’s mystical voice, years of practice and the desire to excel was now ruling the sound waves emanating from the big stage. The crowd had been pushed on their feet and ecstasy ruled the arena. At one point, Jimmy captured the crowd’s speed as he let them croon along with him. Jimmy was now their driver for the night and he had set a scorching pace for the evening.

The local FM station had called in “Traffic Jam” for an interview. I was all set for my cross-country adventure as I tuned into the station and powered up my Red Gypsy. The Red Gypsy was all loaded up and ready for the road jam. This was an unique trip as I was shifting my bag and baggage to a new town. The voluminous interiors of the Gypsy were loaded till the front and only the Driver’s seat remained vacant. The FM Station was now speeding up the tempo with Jimmy’s interview and some quality rock numbers.  I hit the highway and was pleasantly surprised to see it less crowded. The news of a Trucker’s nationwide strike came on the Radio and the highway became a F-1 Track for the lesser mortals.

Revving up the 1400 cc, I hit the throttle to its hilt. The fully loaded Gypsy was now in its full momentum and the empty National Highway offered a perfect foil for a speedy drive. The milestones were just flying past and I had now switched over from the fading FM Station to some great Rock songs from the Gypsy’s stereo. Taking a swig from the water bottle, I shifted the hood of my cap from front to back. The metal of the rear of the cap now rested on my fore-head and I adjusted the Aviator’s Delight-The Ray Ban for a clearer look. The Red Gypsy’s speedo-meter was steady at 120 Kmph and the drive appeared to be fun. The Sun was now at its Zenith and the nearing winter’s mild chill had disappeared quietly.

A small town was looming ahead on the highway. The road was as barren as the Nevada Desert highway. I had pressed the gas to its limit. Far on the horizon, I saw a State Transport Bus stopped on the side of the road. Suddenly, a cyclist emerged on the road and stopped his bi-cycle on the right hand side of the road and was chatting with someone inside the bus. The Red Gypsy had an ample of space (almost 3 Car Breadths) to clear the Bus and the cyclist. The power horns of the Red Gypsy were activated and all its 8 front lights including the hunting lights were powered up. The gas was eased and the Red Gypsy was now trying to slow its speed. The cyclist turned his head backward and seems to have acknowledged the approaching machine. The power horns were being utilized at regular intervals and I was now about 50 meters away from the cyclist. The speedometer had come down to a decent 40 kmph and the Red Gypsy was now rolling with its speed and weight generated momentum. 20 meters to cross the stationary bus and the cyclist suddenly pedaled up and turned towards his right.

My heart now sang an emergency and with one quick motion I slammed the brakes, lifted the hand brake to its hilt, turned off the ignition, tossed the key to my co-driver’s seat and plunged the 1^st gear again into motion. The Red Gypsy screeched into its halting and was now dragging. A thud and the front fenders hit the cyclist’s front tyre. He had a surprised look on his face as he flew and landed right on the Red Gypsy’s bonnet. The cycle’s front tyre was crushed under the Red Gypsy as the vehicle now came to a halt. I took my hand out from the window and held on to the cyclist on the bonnet as the vehicle lunged forward whilst stopping. He tried to break free from my grip and attempted to bite my hand even as I held onto him to save him from being run over by the Red Gypsy. As the Red Gypsy stopped, I came out and shook the cyclist who was by now dazed but scratch less. A big crowd gathered and promptly 02 policemen emerged from nowhere. I gave my version of the Speed’s thrill and the bus’s driver came forward to my defence as he had witnessed the entire episode from his side rear view mirror. I volunteered to help the cyclist by paying up for his damaged cycle. I showed the bus driver and the police men my speedy drill inside the Red Gypsy’s Cabin and the ignition key lying on the co-driver’s seat. The burnt out hand brake became my testimonial and soon enough I was back on the road towards my destination.

Speed thrills folks and especially when life is on a song. The adrenaline pumps harder each moment and the needles of the gas and throttle start going in opposite directions. The momentum reaches its zenith even as the highway appears deserted. The thrill of the speed clogs the brain’s thinking ability as milestones zip behind. However, each mission of speed has its waiting pitfalls. Obstacles can emerge from nowhere. They become visible from far but no one can predict as to how they will behave when they inch closer to the speeding life. This is the moment when the thrill of speed needs to be eased out. The throttle has to be eased and the needle of the speed has to be brought down to control the speed. Who knows when the obstacle lands on the bonnet of the speeding vehicle called life and only a man in control of the speed will be able to take his hand out to grab the obstacle and meet its challenge.

Speed thrills but not necessarily kills if the elements of speed are kept under a close watch. Do press the gas and let the needles of the gas and the speed turn towards opposite directions. Life, after all, offers its stages only once in a life span and the thrill of the speed are the greatest of them all. So, let the speed flow, keep the watch on the speed’s highway and be ready to control the speed to clear the obstacles. After all, the “Traffic Jam” is all about slowing down the life’s speed and speeds up the speed of imagination with its pumping up of the arena’s air.

THE BUBBLE

The Control Room of the Submarine was fully lit up. The boat had settled down into its patrol routine and the sweet hum of various machines was like music to the ears. The patrol had begun in utter secrecy and no one other than the Skipper knew the mission and its modalities. On the day of the cast off, the Skipper had come with his briefcase and had kept it in his custody even as the Heads of Departments made their readiness reports to him. An affable guy, the Skipper, had been in his thoughts since the time the boat sailed out of her home port. Soon, the crew and the boat had settled down into the regular patrol routine and waited for some clue to the mission. Since nothing was coming forward from the Skipper, the crew also kept waiting and moved with the routine.

The boat was operating with utmost precision and had dived deep into the confines of the sea. A tropical storm had built up overhead and underneath the deep layers of temperatures, the crew was in a chilled out environment. Suddenly, the Sonar Watch keeper (or the ears of the dived Submarine) reported a group of contacts. In a jiffy, the Skipper appeared into the Control Room and everyone got to their Action Stations. Finally, everyone thought, the action time had arrived. Scratching their 2 weeks old stubbles, all Officers and men took their designated positions. The Electrical Officer (LO) powered up his Fire Control System (FCS) to check that his torpedoes were ready to merge with the sea and detonate the enemy ships. It was going to be LOs 25^th Torpedo Firing and he was fortunate to be reaching the coveted milestone.

The Sonar was feeding the FCS with automatic plots and as a pro- active approach; LO was also feeding manual inputs to his system’s versatile computer channels. This approach was considered a bit unconventional by the Skipper but that was how the LO had approached all his attacks. Soon enough, the various Officers were calculating the enemy’s coordinates to make a perfect underwater attack. The Skipper ordered the boat to be planed to the Periscope Depth (PD). The behemoth 3000 tonnes+ Submarine’s massive motor fired up and turned the propeller blades as per the telegraph orders. She was all loaded and ready for action. Soon, the bubble shifted towards the aft side of the gauge and the planes man pushed his rudder to bring the Submarine up. The breaking temperature layers pushed the boat and the gravity lost its battle with the momentum. The super machine was now climbing to meet its targets.

It was at this juncture that the FCS started reflecting a rapid change of the bearings of the targets. There were multiple targets and each one was reflecting a rapid change of bearing. LOs manual feed input time was also reducing at a rapid pace and he was constantly stretching the computing power of the computer. A rapid change of bearing indicated that the targets were either at close quarters or right overhead. The boat by now had built its momentum and was approaching the PD at a rapid speed. LO gave the first warning for close quarter situation to the Skipper. The pressures were high and the drops of sweat had broken out on the brows of the Control Room crew. The boat was inching fast and the LO had flagged a warning. The dream attack can be reduced to ashes if a target is not analyzed with perfection. The boat was now meters away from the sea surface and bearings on FCS were spinning in circles. The periscope was raised in synchronization with the boat’s movement and broke the surface. The experienced Skipper took a quick sweep of the surface picture and shouted an Urgent Dive. He shut the Periscope and lowered it with great speed. The urgent dive procedure had by now activated and the emptied out tanks of the Submarine were now gobbling tonnes and tonnes of sea water to gain enough buoyancy for gaining depths. The machine responded to the Skipper’s commands and plunged again into the sea’s dark fathoms. The enemy ships were sited at a precarious distance by the Skipper. He came down to the FCS and the LO showed him the plot. The attack had to be done and the bubble was now shifted forward. The boat was soon brought into its firing depth by the deft Skipper and the torpedo was itching to go out its tube to meet the enemy’s wake. Soon enough, the fire control parameters were aligned and the torpedo lost contact with its parent tube to make its journey for sinking the target. The Sonar reported the torpedo’s movement even as the ships on top made a hasty retreat to save their steel from getting shredded. The mission had been completed and the bubble was again even as the Submarine settled down for its next action.

In almost all situations in our personal and professional lives, the bubble keeps on getting shifted. It hardly remains steady at the centre of the life’s gauge. Humans are either climbing or descending with the change in the life’s bubble’s position. The bearing of the environment around us keeps on changing rapidly as the time of action draws nearer. The action time always hits the humans with its ferocity and its challenge has to be met with precision. Sweat beads have a tendency to build up and it is a natural process. The breaking sweat beads should not fog the vision. The periodic wiping keeps the sweat at bay and also helps to cool down the internal temperatures. This should rather help the clarity to build up to tackle the situation.

The bubble would always remain an integral part of the human lives. Its natural tendency is to shift from front to back as the “Submarine called Life” goes through its motions. All that we need is to let the action be met with action and then steer the bubble to take part in the unfolding action. It is important to play the game fairly and squarely- the bubble does get eased into its neutral mode as the action time stabilizes into a routine.