Perspective

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Yesterday I was talking to my Dad on my regular phone call home. As usual we always discuss the whereabouts, weather and work. The weather was hot and I was sulking about it. It was work, yesterday, that we talked about. For once I talked about the huge work load that's present these days. The task of cleaning up the garbage of a code that was written by those who left for greener pastures is daunting. And on top of it, the coffee machine was broke on my floor and the swimming pool was closed. The testers keep pinging like incessant waves hitting the beach. Work these days is what never ends. I just had to get up and call it a day. Still work is what has to be done, it's what I do. And that means I may skip a meal or two, when I get engrossed. I even lose any grip on time, place or the world around me. Just remembered that yesterday, a colleague came over and asked something, but I was so engrossed that I could not understand a word of what she said. Even today I cannot recollect what she came about for?

Well that's work. And when I told my Dad that I just had to get up and leave for home, yesterday, he said "Theek hi hai ki uth gaye. Time se nikalna bhi jaroori hai. Kaam to chalta hi rehta hai."

And I remembered, one summer day in my school days. My dad had returned from office and we were having our usual evening tea, when a messenger came over and told that there has been a major landslide in Malpa. There had been major casualties as an entire village was affected. Many of those affected were I.T.B.P. personnel who were deployed there owing to the annual Kailash Mansarovar yatra. I remembered my Mom wanted him to have his dinner before going back to the office, but there was no time for that when duty calls. I remembered how we all waited till around 0300 hrs in the morning while we played in the cool night as schools had just started and it was my 11th standard. Nobody studied in 11th. I remembered how all families were out waiting for their men to return from office that night.

Then, I wondered how my Dad worked that he didn't even care about his meals…

And now my parents would wonder how my work demand that sometimes I skip my meals, reach early to office and stay back late, be on call at unusual hours of night and be available in office at the slight. That I lose track of things going around me…

But then I am my Dad's son… When duty calls, no matter how dirty be the job it has to be done…

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