RELIABILITY-THE KEY TO SUCESS

Two things surely depend a lot on the factors of reliability on our planet- Human Beings and Machines. A blend of statistics and evaluations also supports these two entities as they go about making this planet and various Nations into what they are at any respective moment their existence. The singular reliability of an entity compounds as various similar dots connect into a global matrix. Each stage of existence merits new courses and corrections to maintain the reliability at its premium best.

Reliability has become a premium quality and gets analysed through various tools and mechanisms. Its values are then used to gauge the futuristic performance parameters. Reliability matrices are supposed to ensure compliance. However this is where the floor hits the ceiling. Both the human beings and the machines need simple procedures to ensure their reliability. The complex procedures and tools are not easy to understand for many humans and put them into the black holes of complex jargons. Eventually, machines also depend upon humans to deliver their reliability and this ensures the overall reliability of the human beings. It is a simple maze which keeps on getting complex as the levels of inter-dependence increase.

As humans, we are taught to deliver with reliability right from a young age. The first day at school ignites the variables of delivery of human reliability. Slowly, the young child starts his journey and gets accustomed to various tools and machines which also deliver their part of reliability to ensure the performance of the user. With the passage of time, the mechanical devices are joined by the electronics devices and the reliability matrix starts taking its complex shape. This is the point where the humans start developing their skill sets using education, experience and attitude. Soon they are into their adult stage where they have an option of going full steam ahead with their generated/developed talents and traits.

The complexity of the life does leave its marks as humans and machines at times struggle to get their designated reliability. A little support at this stage for the humans and regular maintenance for the machines can make the relevant differences into their performance characteristics. The phases of life create occasional turmoil and need support to regain the planned course. The channels of receiving the support are not limited but have a vast and dynamic canvas in today’s excitingly digitally connected world. The right support at the right time brings the reliability back into the business and both the human beings and machines can get back to the designated track.

The professional networks are one of the prime sources of the support for human beings undergoing through the transition to re-establish their reliability patterns. These tools permit the wide travel of human profiles across oceans and borders. The networks have become an important part of human lives and even existence. Profiles are moving in all possible directions at the click of a mouse. The reliable humans do end up losing their established grounds to move on with the vagaries of their professional and personal lives. The pattern of reliability comes to a standstill and needs a favourable guidance to move the reliability to a new dimension. The pattern then starts adding dots on the new path and the humans can continue to deliver their reliability. A reliable human can take charge of a machine/mechanism and ensure its reliability.

The professional networks and portals have to assume the role of backbones of ensuring the reliability of human beings. The human profiles on networks offer a first hard glimpse into the psychometrics and can become the starting point for re-orientation of the delivery of the reliability. A little hand holding and a gentle professional push by the supporting humans can help the individual to recover and move onto a new path from the transition phase. As Abraham Lincoln had once said, “Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.” Likewise, the transitions do not come all of a sudden in professional lives. The patterns are clearly visible. Extensive working on professional networks and portals is like sharpening the axe. The axe has then two hours to deliver the result coupled with firm and correct strokes from the human who has to re-establish his reliability.

Humans and machines both need support to re-claim their reliability. All of us can assume the role of Santa Claus for at least one human being and ensure the transitions. Do you have it in you?

THE GOOD PIEDPIPER

Martha came out into the early morning Sun and scanned the vast swathe of land that lay ahead. The day was bright and the winter tinge had set into the atmosphere. Martha knew that a lot of work had to be done to meet the challenge of surviving through the winter. She had the onerous responsibility of setting up the food reserves for the harsh winter that was lurking around the corner. Martha led a diligent work force and was under orders to stock up her Ant Colony to meet the formidable weather change.

Marshaling her resources and team, Martha set the pace in search of the food. Foraging ants travel distances of up to 200 meters (700 ft) from their nest and scent trails allow them to find their way back even in the dark. Distances traveled are measured using an internal pedometer that keeps count of the steps taken and also by evaluating the movement of objects in their visual field (optical flow). Directions are measured using the position of the sun. They integrate this information to find the shortest route back to their Colony. Martha led her team of workers and soldiers and moved fast but cautiously. She well understood that, a group of foragers who become separated from the main column sometimes may turn back on themselves and form a circular ant mill. The workers may then run around continuously until they die of exhaustion. She had to avoid any such happening and had to get back the day’s load back to the storage section of the Colony.

The scent of the food had hit the nostrils of the moving ant column and they walked at a brisk pace. Soon the Colony dipped out of their sight and the navigation schemes were being put to use by Martha and her deputies. The soldier ants were accompanying the marching column to defend their workers. The scent trail soon hit a high wall and Martha had a challenge at hand. A quick runner ant was dispatched in alternate directions to discover the new way even as Martha gauged the climbing challenge. The runners came back after a while and reported water bodies along the route. The option of circumventing the wall could not be exercised by the long column. The long marching column full of bubbling workers had to be kept disciplined and in order till the decision could be made.

Martha knew that the time was running out and the mission had to be completed. Raising her long antenna, she started a climb up the wall and set course for a new trail. Digging her powerful legs into the craters and crevices of the high rise wall, Martha led the way and the ant column started to climb. The wind gusts took charge of the column at the half way mark and many a soldiers and workers flew off the wall only to join the queue again at the bottom. Leading strongly, Martha continued the climb and soon was standing at the top of the wall and marshaled her followers. The team was now laying a new scent trail. The column moved down the wall and soon enough, each worker had a big load of grain and they were turning back towards the Colony. The Sun had reached its zenith and clouds were building up in the sky.

Martha and her team knew that they had to cover the distance back to colony at a brisk pace and there was no time to rest. One after the other, the column kept its march back on the scent trail left behind during the approach march. The tough wall again loomed ahead and the strong workers mounted it with ease. Those who fell back again joined the column and dug in their legs strongly to cater for their grain’s weight. The first drops of rain had started hitting the ground when the ant hill was sighted by the column and the entire marching contingent disappeared inside their safe haven. The work was far from over. Inside the colony, the food stocks were being stored in an orderly fashion. Each team member put their load in the designated place and Martha’s mission was a success. Martha was a worker ant. She had spent the first few days of her adult life caring for the queen and young. She then graduated to digging and other nest work, and later to defending the nest and foraging. These changes are sometimes fairly sudden, and define what are called temporal castes. An explanation for the sequence is suggested by the high casualties involved in foraging, making it an acceptable risk only for ants that are older and are likely to die soon of natural causes. She had led her foraging mission and completed it successfully. She could now rest and if life permitted, lead another forage mission in search of food. She had proved to be an efficient Piedpiper. Her followers had followed her on a designated mission and she had brought them back safely to their haven.  

Martha’s life was full of hard work, guts, zeal and courage. Similar is the life span of humans. The only difference is that Martha did not work for her own progeny. She was born and lived as a worker for the entire colony. Humans also end up doing something similar in their entire life span. They are trained, taught and brought up to meet the myriad of challenges during their life spans. They follow their various leaders and follow the scent trails. Someday they become leaders in their own rights and take charge of their life’s situations. Each human at some stage of life becomes a Martha and has the same dilemmas. The trails lead up to high wall bottoms whilst the target is on the other side. The courses to the right and left of the wall are neither clear nor easy to navigate. The only option is to climb the wall. The day starts ticking by and the straight wall has to be surmounted. A careful look at the wall would reveal small crevices and craters. The climb must begin with firm grip and equal disposition of weight onto the stretched limbs. The gusts of wind test the mettle of the climber even as the body starts aching through its joints and skin. The level of difficulty keeps increasing as gravity pulls though the distance to the top starts reducing with every small step. Soon enough the climber hits the top of the wall and the huge target stand clear in front of his eyes. From there on, it is a climb down the wall and a rush to bag the target.

Many a humans take the plunge to climb the wall and fall backwards. They are not as fortunate as ants to get up and join the climbing column. Humans, most of the times, are alone when they meet such walls. Their agony and pains are theirs alone. The hurt, the agony, the injuries and the wounds only ache their own minds and bodies. The journey, at times, gets bitter and lonely. However, each climber achieves some success in his endeavor. The fire to meet the challenges of life brings in results.

Along the walls of difficulty connections are made with other climbers. Looking at the adjacent climber’s fighter spirit pumps up the resolve. The road less traveled suddenly starts looking a lot brighter as human dots start to move together on their designated missions. Each climber becomes a Piedpiper for the other and this cycle continues. The ones who reach the top of the wall meet their missions and the ones who get blown away during the climb must get back to the climb. Efforts pay dividends and after all it is the dividends which bring forth the challenges.

Each failure is a challenge which has to be accepted afresh. The mistakes of the past need minor corrections to set the course straight. The job of a good Piedpiper is not easy and this role has to be played by each and every human being. Struggles and pains are a part of the good Piedpiper’s life and the efforts pay their rewards eventually.     

THE DEEP OPERATIONS

August 1914, the German naval base at Helgoland (a small German archipelago in the North Sea) was abuzz with activity. A flotilla of 10 U-Boats 9Submarines) were being made ready for the first ever War Patrol to challenge the Royal Navy warships in the North Sea. The strategic concepts discussed and debated in rooms ashore had to be now put to practice at sea. The communication channels were limited and operational experience was only in sketches and papers. The only advantage of U-Boats was their capability to submerge and then wait for their prey. The torpedo was developed as a potent weapon and its connect could wreak havoc for a loaded warship. Speed was in favor of the ships and they could zig-zag in vast open oceans to save themselves from the prowling U-Boats. The concepts of engaging opponents from underwater had never been tested at sea and so was the case for the ships, which also had to find operational solutions to save themselves from the enemy’s torpedo.

The grand strategists spent countless hours as intelligence reports kept on pushing in sketchy details of the new dimensions that were to emerge in the war at sea. The enemy concepts were not known and also the potential fire power could not be imagined. The Cat and Mouse game had set in brilliantly as frenzied activities tried to catch up with the timelines at Helgoland harbour. Setting 10 U-Boats into operational mode and sending them to ocean’s distances to wage the war cry was a herculean effort. Finally, the moment arrived when the first of the U-Boats powered up its diesels and manoeuvred into the open ocean. The U-Boats tactics took their birth as one after another, the rest 09 U-Boats also sailed out towards the North Sea. The sentinels of the deep had taken their posts.

“Captain on the Jetty”, came out the voice on the Submarine’s loudspeaker. The boat was all set for a war game operation and the 03 HODs (Heads of Departments of Executive, Engineering and Electrical Section) rushed up the Control Room’s well to meet the Captain on the Submarine’s casing. A warm handshake from the Captain greeted each HOD as they reported their readiness for the patrol. The sea was calm and quiet and the weather was absolutely perfect to kiss the sea depths. The Submarine crew had worked hard over the months gone by to make the Submarine fully operational after her scheduled long overhaul and repairs. The dismantling, repairs/replacements/refurbishments and the final buttoning up and firing of the integrated equipments onboard a Submarine is a niche gamut of operational excellence. The events are always in a hurry to overtake the timelines and the crew is always hard pressed to meet the myriad challenges. Each soul, right from the Captain to the junior most Sailor, chip in their might to put the mammoth machine into motion. The Submarine’s crew had toiled hard to reach this day and the Old Lady’s machines were singing like canary. The battery juices and high pressure air was topped up and the Submarine was carrying its full load including war ammunitions. After all, it was a Patrol and she was supposed to sustain at sea for around 06 weeks. The operational tacticians had given her a pivotal position in the war game and she would have to deploy her own tactics to meet the challenges of enemy’s flotilla. The Submarine’s siren was sounded 03 times. On a crisp order from the Bridge, the massive Main Motor turned her screws (propeller blades) and the giant steel body started moving in astern direction. The Captain exchanged a salute with the Submarine base crew and gave orders to take the Submarine out to sea.

The last of the German Submarines left Helgoland and soon the Wolfe Pack was inside North Sea. Their aim was to sink capital ships of the British Grand Fleet, and so reduce the Grand Fleet's numerical superiority over the German High Seas Fleet. The first sortie was not a success. Only one attack was carried out, when SM U-15 fired a torpedo (which missed) at HMS Monarch. Two of the ten U-boats were lost.

The crew of the Submarine was closed up at Action Stations till the Submarine reached the diving area. The pre-diving checks were carried out and soon the ballast tanks were flooded with water from the Bay of Bengal. Within no time, the massive steel had dived to its Periscope Depth. The final sweep was taken on the Periscope and the Captain ordered the deep dive procedure. Effortlessly, the well oiled Submarine gained depth and settled down to its deepest depth. The machines ticked well and systems had bonded well. The crew settled down as the boat silently cut across the deep sea waters to its designated area. The challenge to meet the operational tasks had begun well. The phases of the war game and patrol commenced in the next couple of days and the crew and machine responded well.

The days at sea are utilised well to bond the crew and to meet the operational aims. Life onboard a dived Submarine depends on the efficiency and response of each and every man onboard. One small step of mistake can lead to a fatal end. The sweat and toil of the crew has to be perfectly matched at each stage. The well performing Submarine was now cruising along on her patrol phase and waiting for further orders. She was on her farthest point from mother harbour when Murphy (Murphy's law is an adage or epigram that is typically stated as: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong) decided to pay a visit onboard.

The Submarine had come up to put up a snort to charge her batteries and to provide well deserved fresh air to the crew. The 02 big diesels engines were running smoothly. Suddenly, the warning lights for the Starboard diesel engine came on and the engine tripped. The checks revealed a broken crankshaft and the starboard diesel was now gone for good as the repairs were time consuming and could only be attempted in the harbour. The Officers huddled down together and a detailed appreciation was prepared. The patrol and the games were not yet over. The Submarine had to sustain for at least 03 more weeks at sea and she was almost 400 miles away from her mother base. The appreciation clearly revealed the grit, resolve and the technical capability of the crew. The Captain decided to continue with the mission on a single engine and meet the challenges head on. This entailed a week of patrol and then a 02 week trudge back to the mother base. The vital parameters of all other machines were re-checked and calculations were re-hashed. The analytics were clear. The crew had to conserve each bit of power to meet the challenges with a single good engine. The battery charging capability had been reduced to 50% and this meant more time at snorting stations. This in turn meant that the single diesel engine had to be now flogged for double the time of operation and its engine running hours were being gobbled up at double the rate too.

Murphy was looking at the patient and competent crew. Their resolve had not satiated Murphy’s hunger. Murphy wanted more and it struck again the next day. The good engine’s sea water cooler is a massive piece of machinery. This ensures chilled water supply to the engine to keep its temperatures in operational limits. Murphy quietly pierced the cooler’s pipeline and soon the sea water had meshed itself with the oil inside the cooler. The warning signals came on and the engine had to be shut down. The boat dived to a safe depth and the engineers began their investigations. The situation’s appreciation revealed that the replacement could be carried out with a spare cooler. This replacement warranted 24+ hours of uninterrupted work. The battery was not fully charged when the mishap occurred. The electrical calculations were not very encouraging as the discharging battery could enter into a deep discharge mode and render the battery set useless.

The crew set into motion as Engineers began the process of dismantling the damaged cooler. The electrical load of the Submarine was reduced to a bare minimum as all the unwanted equipment was shut down. Ventilation was limited and an occasional pump was used to pump out water and maintain the depth. The war gaming ships were closing in and the Submarine’s position could not have been compromised. The Captain and his Officers took a brilliant decision of not to surface and attempted the critical repairs whilst submerged underwater. The Submarine would not give up its position and neither compromises the operational commitment. The task had to be met - was the resolve of the Submarine’s crew.

Time started ticking, temperatures inside the Submarine were rising, the battery was slowly getting drained and the air was becoming thicker with the carbon dioxide component as both Officers and Men went about their job of replacing the damaged cooler. The sweat and effort continued unabated for 28 hours. The battery was barely a few minutes away from its deepest discharge point when the engine was fired and the well generated current moved to charge the drained battery. The snorting station brought in whiff of fresh air for the crew and a loud round of applause went around for the gutsy engineers. Each man in the crew had played his role to the perfection to meet the challenges of the deep operation.

The Submarine moved on to its new location and met its tactical challenge with aplomb. Soon, the game was declared as over and the Submarine Crew had played its role well. The boat was brought back safely to its Mother Base and guts of the crew brought well deserved glory. The Commander-in-Chief sent his heartfelt congratulations to the spirit of the crew. The damaged crankshaft needed a long layoff. Such was the gusto of the crew that the boat operated on a single engine for the rest of the operational cycle and the flag of the Indian Navy and the spirit of the Submarine Arm flew high on its mast. The deep operations need men of steely resolve, courage and conviction. They do not give up and continue to innovate. If something is important and Murphy is also smirking against you, go and do it. The challenge would be surely met.  

       

Whose Life is it Anyway!!

Circa 1987, the winter chill of New Delhi was at its peak. North India had fogged out as it had been for ages during the winters. Those were the days of surface transport dependence and fog would cripple the train and bus operations between cities. The entire Northern Plains get blanketed during these chilly days and life gets thrown out of gear. There were days when the window of navigable lights was limited and utmost care was to be taken to drive through these days. On one of these days, I was standing at Rohtak Bus Station to catch a Bus to New Delhi. I was 16 and in my Class 12^th. The next day was my entrance test for the National Defence Academy (NDA). Those were the days when mobiles had not connected the World and each word had to be written or spoken if it was to be conveyed to the recipients. 06 of my classmates were also supposed to be taking the NDA exam in the same centre at New Delhi. The inclement weather and the ongoing examinations had left us all in disarray and no concrete plans could be made to make a travel to New Delhi. All that we all understood that we would have to rendezvous at the examination centre and appear for the test.

The chill of the winter hits India each year with great vengeance. The weather starts changing slowly and turns into a pleasant pink before it assumes its vagaries. The Indian roots are deeply immersed in the hot climatic conditions and winters are actually not expected by many folks. Such is the ferocity of the winter that it completely throws the country into a limbo as the movements get restricted in Northern parts of our vast Nation. Each year we encounter the winter’s myriad challenges and the learning curve continues!!

The Sun could not breach the fog and at about 12 noon, I set for the bus station. The bus frequency was erratic due to the fog cover and each bus was moving at a over filled capacity. Somehow, I was able to set foot in a bus and quietly settled in a seat to read my examination syllabus book. The bus took almost 03 hours to cover the 65 kms distance to New Delhi and I took an auto-rickshaw to reach my maternal home. The chill had engulfed the city and I was happy to be in the warm confines of the house. Sleeping fitfully through the night, I woke up early the next day to another fog filled morning. I set two hours before the scheduled time to reach the examination centre and the auto-rickshaw drove with great care to ensure that I reach on time. The Government School at Laxmi Nagar, New Delhi offered us cold wooden benches and windows sans glasses. The winter chill was present everywhere inside the school as we settled down to write the examination of our life. After all, it was the first big examination that we were appearing for to move to the professional lives. Many a brave hearts had come wearing their blankets as is the norm in the Northern Indian states. Their mettle was tested to the core of their bones as the invigilators made them write their examination sans the blanket. I took off my second pull over and gave it to my class mate who also had to leave his blanket aside. The bonhomie was its best as all class mates sat down to write the coveted examination.

Raised in the state of Haryana, I have seen soldiers of all types of Indian Armed Forces. The folklore states that each house would produce a Soldier and a teacher. Our childhood days were all on the foot. We would read name plates after name plates on the houses and discover the names of various Indian Armed Forces personnel and their regiments/ services. Our neighbourhood was primarily the refugees from the Western neighbour of India and not many soldiers originated from these homes as the families were still coming to terms with the trauma of partition. The family sizes were reducing and the partition generation would try to ensure that the household would assemble around the hearth each evening and they would then feel assured.

Cities like Rohtak had a large migrant population as also the traditional families. Our family had a century old footprint in the city, but, my Grandfather was a migrant from the west. The wars of 1962 and 1965 were the starting points when soldiers started settling down in our city. The 1971 war saw many more moving in from their villages to the city as the soldiers bid adieu to their units and came home on pension. They settled modest homes and we grew up in a mixed zone where the western migrants and the military veterans settled together. I would carefully observe these ram rod straight soldiers with their impeccable grace and chained dogs moving about in our colony. The name plates in front of their homes sang the saga of their lives spent to save the honour and grace of India.

One day, my father returned from his Bank at New Delhi and his childhood teacher Master Ramdhari came over to our home. He came to inform my father that his student Colonel Hoshiar Singh Dahiya, Param Vir Chakra would be coming to meet them the next day. The venerable Colonel was a Param Vir Chakra (the highest Gallantry Medal) from the 1971 War. My father and he went a long way together as they both, at one stage of life, stayed in the modest home of Master Ramdhari to study Mathematics. My father’s excitement knew no bounds and the next day he took me along with him to meet the great soldier. It was around noon when the Colonel arrived at his teacher’s humble abode in his Military Regalia of Grenadiers Regiment and it was a tearful re-union amongst the battle hardened soldier and his Guru. As a few lucky ones sat down with the Colonel and glasses of butter milk were poured, the venerable Colonel described his life in the Indian Army. A volley of questions by his juniors and peers were answered. Being the youngest and the only child in the gathering, he blessed me as I gazed at his ribboned medals. He pointed towards them and stated, “Son, you have to join the Army and earn them”. He gave a pat on the back of his juniors, touched Master Ramdhari’s feet and left for his next destination. This meeting left a long lasting impression on my juvenile brain.

As I sat down to write the NDA exam braving the chill, my thoughts gathered around the medals I saw on Colonel Hoshiar Singh, Param Vir Chakra’s chest. 06 of my classmates wrote the examination and at the end of it 05 of us joined the NDA/Naval Academy to begin our respective military Careers. I became the first one in my Colony’s lane to join the NDA. The neighbourhood was tense as one of their children was leaving home to a new pasture and would not be back each night to sit close to the hearth. The old had tears welled up as their memories of partition stood up again whilst the young exhorted me put in my best foot forward in the new life. My father’s elder brother had witnessed the partition as a 19 year old and always wore a suit and a hat as a remembrance to his days before partition. He silently took off his hat as my trunk was loaded into the waiting taxi. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hugged me and wished me good luck for my onward journey. My father stood still and proud and reminded me about the great legacy of the Indian soldiers. The entire “Mohalla” (neighbourhood) bade me farewell and kept waving till the car ferrying me to New Delhi Railway Station turned right at the end of the long road. At the highway, Master Ramdhari waited near his modest home. My father and I touched the old man’s feet and he blessed me all the luck in my Military Career. A glass of homemade butter milk was gulped down and I set off for my new life. The winter had not set in and the day was clear of any fog.

Today, I am at the fag end of my Military Life. The weather is turning again in North India. The subtle winter chill is slowly knocking the boundaries of the northern states. I am counting the days before I hang in my pristine Naval Whites fully decorated with my share of Indian Military Service Medals, my Submarine Badge and my Commendation Cards. It has been a fantastic journey of encountering the fog and finding a clear way out of it. The fog is setting in again and I am again ready to find a clear path out of the fog this time over too. Those days, I was alone in the maze. Now, my World is closer and well connected. The lights are brighter and guidance systems are much more developed. Whose life is it anyway-a new challenge beckons and it is a singular opportunity again to meet it head on.

THE BREAD CRUMBS & LIFE'S OPERATIONS

Bread forms an important constituent of our food intake today. Large variants of breads greet us in the markets and we choose our pick depending upon our tastes and health. People of all ages patronise the bread. Bread is a staple food prepared from dough of flour and water, usually by baking. There are many combinations and proportions of types of flour and other ingredients, and also of different traditional recipes and modes of preparation of bread. As a result, there are wide varieties of types, shapes, sizes, and textures of breads in various regions of the World.

          

Good old days of the yore, the shops were few in our town. Bread was considered to be a luxury and as children we used to wait for Sunday breakfast to enjoy our bread. Rest of the days, it was Chapatti (or Roti) in all 03 staple meals and with different combinations of vegetables, pickles and pulses. All 03 meals were simple to make and easy to digest. The early morning breakfast was made out of left over Chapattis of the night. The old chapattis were converted into a hand meshed mixture of Desi Ghee (Clarified Butter) and Sugar and was popularly known as Churma. High in calories, Churma along with a glass of milk would give adequate sucrose shot to the brain and as students we were absolutely live and chirpy in the school. The school break Tiffin box would contain Paranthas (Parantha is an amalgamation of the words parat and atta which literally means layers of cooked dough) with seasonal pickle. All classmates would sit down together and savour the mid day meal. This togetherness built up bonhomie and long lasting friendships. The dinner was again a simple affair around the hearth where warm Chappattis would be affectionately served by the lady of the house.

          

Sundays would usually be the days when we were given a chance to indulge in the modern breads. Our city, Rohtak, had badminton clubs where fathers and sons would play games together. The clubs would start functioning from 5 am onwards and some amazing contests would take place. As children, we also got chance to play with our elders and this led us to pick the threads of the game with great ease. By Class 8^th we were matching our sporting skills with our elders and there were days when we clinched game and match from them. After the games, the entire club of 10-14 people would sit down on the roadside shop (Om’s Tea Stall or popularly known as OTS) to enjoy a well deserved bread sandwich and tea/juices. We would intently listen to the animated discussions of our elders and picked many a threads about the World happenings from those discussions and debates.

          

Soon came the time, when all my classmates were ready to move to the professional institutes. Circa 1988, we moved to our respective institutes for further career oriented courses. I along with 03 of my classmates joined the National Defence Academy (NDA) at Pune. I was the last one to leave for the Course and my mother had packed the food for the entire journey to Pune. The Churma tasted exotic as I finished the last of the packed items as the train moved into Pune Railway Station. The first meal at the NDA was a lunch. The chapattis were different in taste and profile than the home made ones. Soon the routine of the Academy took its count and each meal started becoming prized.

           

This was the time; the bread emerged as the most important constituent of life. Time was always at premium and in the minimum possible time, the Cadets had to fill their ever churning stomachs to the full to survive the day. Soon, I got accustomed to finishing my power breakfast ranging from a few seconds to a treasured 10 minutes breakfast. The magnificent dining hall of the NDA could accommodate almost 2000 cadets. The first day at the dining hall, I was mesmerised by its sheer size and clockwork precision in which the food operations were being handled by a calm kitchen and services staff. It was clockwork precision at work as 1800+ cadets would move in and out to have their meals in the Academy. The management of bread became a grand affair for the junior cadets. As we were being taught the nuances of military training, I saw a neat packing of sandwiches going into handkerchiefs or paper napkins. Time was always at premium and so were resources such as butter and jam. The bread was never an issue and was available in plenty. 25 grams of butter and 50 grams of jam could be used to make 5 double sandwiches to satiate our hunger. The packed sandwiches would be carried to classes and shared with mates who would then grow to become Brothers-in Arms and live with the bond forever. These sandwiches packed in various forms and methods tasted out of this world and their value can never be re-paid to the generous soul who brought them hidden in his pocket of starched uniform. Many a days of tough tone could be successfully encountered through charging of the blood’s sugar levels by these bread sandwiches.

          

The dinner at the NDA was a combination of bread and Cow Peas curry (Lobia). Hungry and raring to charge our energy levels to meet the further unknown challenges, we would wallop bread after bread pieces with the curry. The filled stomach can become empty any minute, but who was worried at that stage? Running against time, we could easily finish our meals in record time and that too with exquisite table manners. This was a grand part of the Military training. As the life moved on into the Navy, the bread moved with us as an important part of our life. Life onboard training base mess, sailing ships and then Submarines had bread in all its meals. The quantity of butter and jam grew as life moved on from a Cadet to a young Officer. The importance of each meal remained steady with the growth of life. Not a morsel was wasted as the value of food remained a high priority.

          

Today, breads of various varieties are consumed by us. We have encountered new combinations and formations of breads. The sides of the breads taste better and the fresh bread boasts of many ingredients which are marketed as elixirs for humans. The traditional Churma, parantha and chappattis have steadily disappeared from the dining tables and tiffin boxes of school going children and adults alike. Canteen and corporate lunches have now migrated to various hues, tastes and styles. The pint liquids have been added on as stress busters. Food joints near schools and colleges see footfalls from young generation and the food consumption patterns have seen a big change. New market trends are firmly in saddle now where food industry is related to fitness and other ancillary products including medicines. The cycle of stress and strains coupled with complex food and sedentary habits castes its vicious gaze on every human being. Many fall victim to the unprecedented attacks as we sit more than we walk/stand.

         

Now is the time to move, keep fit and make those bread crumbs precious. The pattern is clear and precise for each one of us. The predictions are bleak as medications are catching up with humans at an early age than before. Shall we look back and visit the good old days again-keep the food simple, walk a mile longer each day and sweat out those extra calories to meet the complex challenges of our lives. The cost of life’s operations needs a merited look, isn’t it folks?