Happy Independence day!!

கோடிகளில் மட்டும் வாழும் ஏழைத் தலைவர்கள்... காசுக்கு வோட்டு போடும் பணக்கார மக்கள்... தன் நாட்டிற்க்கே குழி பறிக்கும் போலி ராஜாக்கள்... விளையாட்டு போட்டிற்கு முன்பே பணத்தில் விளையாடும் வீரர்கள்... - இது போன்ற புனித மனிதர்கள் வாழ இந்நாட்டிற்கு சுதந்திரம் கிடைக்கப் போராடிய அனைத்துத் தியாகிகளுக்கும் 64 வது ஆழ்ந்த சுதந்திரதின அனுதாபங்கள்..

Sethu

சொந்த ஊர்!!!!!

வயல்வெளி பார்த்து
வறட்டி தட்டி
ஓணாண் பிடித்து
ஓடையில் குளித்து
எதிர்வீட்டில் விளையாடி
எப்படியோ படித்த நான்
ஏறிவந்தேன் நகரத்துக்கு !

சிறு அறையில் குறுகிப் படுத்து
சில மாதம் போர்தொடுத்து
வாங்கிவிட்ட வேலையோடு
வாழுகிறேன் கணிப்பொறியோடு !

சிறிதாய்த் தூங்கி
கனவு தொலைத்து
காலை உணவு மறந்து
நெரிசலில் சிக்கி
கடமை அழைக்க
காற்றோடு செல்கிறேன்
காசு பார்க்க !

மனசு தொட்டு
வாழும் வாழ்க்கை
மாறிப் போகுமோ ?

மௌசு தொட்டு
வாழும் வாழ்க்கை
பழகிப் போகுமோ ?

வால்பேப்பர் மாற்றியே
வாழ்க்கை
தொலைந்து போகுமோ ?

சொந்த பந்த
உறவுகளெல்லாம்
ஷிப் பைலாய்
சுருங்கிப் போகுமோ?

வாழ்க்கை
தொலைந்து போகுமோ
மொத்தமும்!
புரியாது
புலம்புகிறேன்
நித்தமும்!

தாய் மடியில் தலைவைத்து
நிலவு முகம் நான் ரசித்து
கதைகள் பேசி
கவலைகள் மறந்த காலம்
இனிதான் வருமா ?

இதயம் நனைத்த
இந்த வாழ்வு
இளைய தலைமுறைக்காவது
இனி கிடைக்குமா ?

சொந்த மண்ணில்
சொந்தங்களோடு
சோறு திண்பவன்
யாரடா ?
இருந்தால் அவனே
சொர்க்கம் கண்டவனடா!

A great wish!!

தேடிச் சோறுநிதந் தின்று - பல
சின்னஞ் சிறுகதைகள் பேசி - மனம்
வாடித் துன்பமிக உழன்று - பிறர்
வாடப் பலசெயல்கள் செய்து - நரை
கூடிக் கிழப்பருவ மெய்தி - கொடுங்
கூற்றுக் கிரையெனப்பின் மாயும் - பல
வேடிக்கை மனிதரைப் போலே - நான்
வீழ்வே னென்று நினைத் தாயோ?
நின்னைச் சிலவரங்கள் கேட்பேன் - அவை
நேரே இன்றெனக்குத் தருவாய் - என்றன்
முன்னைத் தீயவினைப் பயன்கள் - இன்னும்
மூளா தழிந்திடுதல் வேண்டும் - இனி
என்னைப் புதியவுயி ராக்கி - எனக்
கேதுங் கவலையறச் செய்து - மதி
தன்னை மிகத்தெளிவு செய்து - என்றும்
சந்தோஷங் கொண்டிருக்கச் செய்வாய்.
- பாரதியார்

"We were being slowly killed by our own people"-- the destruction of the CRPF's 'A' company in Dantewada

An exclusive account of the final moments of the CRPF’s A and G companies which were wiped out by Maoists in Dantewada on April 6, 2010. Based on detailed interviews of three of the seven survivors currently in a hospital in Raipur.

Dawn had just begun breaking over the cool dry jungle
of Dantewada when the column of 81 CRPF men along
with one local head constable was walking in a single file over a hillock and towards a one hectare fallow field, lined with bunds and trees. The troopers were wearing camouflage
fatigues and, strangely,white sneakers bought in Raipur because the regular CRPF issue boots were unfit for long marches. The men had established a base camp three km away from Chintalnar village and had begun ‘area domination’ patrols
in the Mukrana forest. They had two night halts where they cooked a dal and rice khichdi for themselves.
It was their second day in the Maoist stronghold but the enemy
was elusive. The villagers that they came across didn’t tell them anything useful. It didn’t matter even if they did. The troopers did not understand the Gondi dialect spoken by the tribals; they left that to their local liaison, Head Constable Sushil Kumar Deepak. Ramesh Kumar Singh, part of the column’s Quick
Reaction Team (QRT) comprising of 12 men, cradled his INSASrifle and pulled out his mobile phone. There
was no signal so he was using it as a clock. It was 5.50 a.m. They had been marching for nearly three hours. For some reason the QRT,supposed to be at the head of the column acting as scouts, had fallen behind. “I’m going to the front to get our orders,” Assistant Commandant B.L. Meena said and walked ahead to the head of the column where the leader,
Deputy Commandant Satyawan Singh, was. Meena had gone just 20 metres when the first pft pft pft bursts of fire came directly from the front. “Take positions, take posi-
tions,” Satyawan Singh’s voice rang out. The company broke up and split into small groups and fanned out to left and right, rifles pointing towards their assailants.
“It’s a hit-and-run. They will go away. It happened like this in
Kashmir,” thought Biplab Malakar,a lanky first division fast bowler from Barrackpore in West Bengal, as he took position behind a 2-ft high bund around the field. Five years ago,militants in Jammu and Kashmir had shot and killed his friend, another constable, Pradeep Sikdar. It occurred to Biplab that the Naxals were using INSAS rifles—the very rifles the CRPF troopers were using to desperately defend themselves—to
shoot at him. Biplab had a deeper as- sociation—he used to make these weapons during a two-month long
summer job at the Rifle Factory in Ishapore a decade ago.
Soon the fire began from the flanks, and seemingly from above.
The black uniform-clad Maoists were firing from behind the dark- ened silhouettes of the trees. Bullets rang over their heads with a crack as they broke the sound barrier. Biplab was huddled near the bund with a fellow policemen H.K. Malik when a grenade flew in and exploded, blowing Malik’s leg away. Five bullets hit Biplab on the back and blood
poured out soaking his battle fatigues. He passed out.
Arvind Kumar, meanwhile, went down on the ground, fired
his AK-47 and crawled—the standard drill to evade bullets. But
the ground offered no cover. The men were being scythed down
in groups as they lay prone. It soon became clear why. “Ped se fire aa rahi hain(they are firing from the trees),” Havaldar Major Ram Kumar Meena screamed as two Maoist light machine guns began thumping deadly fire from atop trees over 100 metres away.
Explosions from IEDs rent the air and smoke wafted across the field. Arvind’s AK-47 ran out of ammunition.
“Take my magazines. I can’t fire,” a dying Sub-Inspector B.K. Sharma offered him two AK-47 magazines. As the battle raged, the Maoists were shouting tactical instructions to each other. “Deepak, idhar se ghero, (surround them from here).” It was a sight that was both terrifying and surreal. There were hundreds of tribal villagers around the field. They were screaming in Gondi, waving sticks and spears. It was like a royal shikaar which had converged onto a single killing field. It seemed like over a thousand people were firing though the Maoists claim they were only 300. “If I’m going to die, I’m going to try and take as many of them,” Arvind thought as he and a few others began blasting away at the trees. He saw at least one of the Maoists falling off.
Then the firing came in from a small hillock towards the rear of the company. Arvind had attracted the deadly attention of
their ambushers. A second grenade was flung towards him and it exploded near him. Three bullets hit him on the back. He
collapsed on his rifle. It was like the Maoists anticipated how the CRPF would react when ambushed. The field had
turned into a killing box ringed with automatic weapons. It was a Roman colosseum. There was no retreat for these dying gladiators. In the firefight, which lasted for over three hours, the CRPF men were clinically finished off. And all that happened right in front of their own ‘countrymen’. The last thing the survivors remember is seeing sari-clad tribal women moving in
and stripping the bodies of their fallen comrades of their weapons. Only seven men survived to tell this tale, one that would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

--Sandeep Unnithan (India Today, April 26, 2010)

The 'Metro Man's' journey

Stories of extreme hardship, braving impossible odds and innumerable sacrifices, abound in the lives of nearly 90 per cent of the students in the country. But among them, some perform exceptionally well. Their academic laurels are so brilliant, that at times their CV looks intimidating. And each one acknowledges that it's the right education that made them what they are today. Careers360 identified 40-odd brilliant students of this country. Most of them came from very dire conditions.

Here, in today's feature we look at Elattuvalapil Sreedharan's journey.

Men sporting bright yellow safety helmets and fluorescent jackets and digging up busy roads is a common sight in
Delhi these days. The Delhi NCR region is connected like never before, and the Delhi Metro Rail Corporation (DMRC) project continues, full throttle. And the force behind this venture is Indian-born and educated Elattuvalapil Sreedharan.

Hailed as 'The Metro Man', ES, now 77, stumbled upon the job of Metro Chief, by chance. He was part of a search
committee launched by the state government to locate a suitable person to head The Delhi Metro Rail Corporation, as
its managing director. The search did not yield even one suitable candidate, so the government insisted he take up the position. ES very hesitatingly agreed stating that he was not interested in salary or perks, but he needed a set-up free of
political and bureaucratic interference to work. The government agreed.

Thus started a journey, sans any frills and fanfare. He had no office, and not even a chair or phone to use. He worked
out of a make-shift office room with a few of his close associates, who came with him from his earlier workplace, the
Konkan Railway. The Metro Rail team built up gradually; general consultants were added, contractors engaged along
the way and site workers, hired.

The youngest of eight children, ES got very little parental care. But his only sister, now aged 101 and his elder brothers made up for it with their love and attention. Born in a remote village in the Palakkad district of Kerala, ES attended an ordinary school. He walked a long distance to reach it every day.

As a student, he was bright and always topped his class. He also enjoyed building mud houses, bridges and roadways in the compound, an early expression of his engineering instincts. He went on to join Victoria College in Palghat and then graduated as an engineer from the Government Engineering College, Kakinada, Andhra Pradesh. He briefly taught civil engineering at the Government Polytechnic, Kozhikode, apprenticed with Bombay Port Trust for a year and later joined Indian Railways.

The 760-km long Konkan Railway Project was not only an engineering challenge as it involved construction of a bridges and tunnels over a rough terrain but a financial one as well. But under his guidance, the project was completed well in time and without cost overruns.

The Konkan Railway project put him in the spotlight, but one of his biggest challenges was the restoration of the Pamban Railway Bridge linking Mandapam and Rameshwaram in Tamil Nadu. In 1963, 126 of the bridge's 146 spans (distance between two supports of a bridge) were washed away by a tidal wave. He restored the bridge in 46 days against the target of six months by the government.

A stickler for punctuality, he starts his day early; mediates and reads the Bhagvad Gita, a two-hour daily ritual which he has been following for years. At work, he doesn't stay back after 6 pm, and doesn't subscribe to late working hours. Every new employee of DMRC is gifted a copy of the Bhagwad Gita, regarded by the corporation as a self-management book and not a religious text.

He also understands the value of time; the Delhi Metro is 99.9 per cent punctual. Detailed planning and analysis of the situation, followed by practical solution is his strategy for effective functioning.

Simple living and high thinking
For a man who takes on high-tech complex projects, his lifestyle has always remained simple A vegetarian, he is a frugal eater. He doesn't consume milk products, but relishes bananas.

Academics

* BE (JNTU)

Honours

* Padma Shri
* One of Asia's Heroes by TIME
* Degree of Doctor of Science (Honoris causa) from IIT Delhi
* Knight of the Legion of Honour by the French government
* Padma Vibhushan

Did you know?

* He has adopted children, donates award money to charity, and under his aegis, the DMRC has recently opened a shelter-cum-protection home for children in Delhi.
* He has denied authorised biographies on him.
* He was the captain of his college football team.

பழைய பேப்பரை விற்று 6 வயது சிறுமிக்கு உயிர் கொடுத்த மாணவர்கள்

மதுரை : மதுரை வடமலையான் மருத்துவமனையின் "ஊர் கூடி உதவுவோம்' என்ற திட்டத்தின்கீழ், பழைய பேப்பரை சேகரித்து விற்று, அதில் கிடைத்த தொகையை 6 வயது சிறுமியின் ஆப்பரேஷனுக்கு கொடுத்து உயிரை காப்பாற்றினர் பள்ளி மாணவர்கள் மற்றும் பொதுமக்கள்.


பொதுமக்களிடம் பழைய நாளிதழ்களை நன்கொடையாக பெற்று, அதில் கிடைக்கும் பணத்தை ஏழை குழந்தைகளின் மருத்துவச் செலவுக்கு பயன்படுத்துவதே இத்திட்டத்தின் நோக்கம். இதுகுறித்து மாணவர்கள், பொதுமக்களிடம் விழிப்புணர்வு ஏற்படுத்தப்பட்டது. இதன் பயனாக, மதுரை டால்பின் மெட்ரிக். பள்ளி மாணவர்கள் 11 ஆயிரம் பழைய நாளிதழ்களை விற்று 47 ஆயிரம் ரூபாயும், பொதுமக்கள் 4,658 ரூபாயும் நன்கொடையாக அளித்தனர். இதைக் கொண்டு, பிறவியிலேயே இருதயத்தில் ஓட்டை இருந்த திண்டுக்கல் சிறுமி சித்ராவுக்கு அறுவை சிகிச்சையின்றி, கேத்லாப் முறை மூலம் இருதய ஓட்டை அடைக்கப்பட்டது. மொத்த செலவு 1.10 லட்சம் ரூபாயில், நன்கொடை போக, மீதமுள்ள தொகையை மருத்துவமனை நிர்வாகமே ஏற்றுக்கொண்டது.


ஆப்பரேஷன் செய்த டாக்டர் கண்ணனும் கட்டணம் பெறவில்லை. நிர்வாக இயக்குநர் டாக்டர் புகழகிரி கூறுகையில், ""ஒவ்வொரு துளி நீரும் சேர்ந்துதான் சமுத்திரத்தை உருவாக்குகிறது. அதுபோல் அனைவரும் இத்திட்டத்தில் பங்கேற்று இதனை வெற்றி பெற செய்ய வேண்டும்'' என்றார்.திட்டமேலாளர் ஹேமலட்சுமி, ரேடியோ மிர்ச்சி நிலைய இயக்குனர் தினேஷ், நிகழ்ச்சி இயக்குனர் ராதா உடனிருந்தனர்.

Do not turn your back on the needy

One stormy night many years ago, an elderly man and his wife entered the lobby of a small hotel in Philadelphia. Trying to get out of the rain, the couple approached the front desk hoping to get some shelter for the night.

“Could you possibly give us a room here?” the husband asked. The clerk, a friendly man with a winning smile, looked at the couple and explained that there were three conventions in town.

“All of our rooms are taken,” the clerk said. “But I can’t send a nice couple like you out into the rain at one o’clock in the morning. Would you perhaps be willing to sleep in my room? It’s not exactly a suite, but it will be good enough to make you folks comfortable for the night.”

When the couple declined, the young man pressed on. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll make out just fine,” the clerk told them. So the couple agreed.

As he paid his bill the next morning, the elderly man said to the clerk, “You are the kind of manager who should be the boss of the best hotel in the United States. Maybe someday I’ll build one for you.”

The clerk looked at them and smiled. The three of them had a good laugh.

As they drove away, the elderly couple agreed that the helpful clerk was indeed exceptional, as finding people who are both friendly and helpful isn’t easy.

Two years passed. The clerk had almost forgotten the incident when he received a letter from the old man. It recalled that stormy night and enclosed a round-trip ticket to New York, asking the young man to pay them a visit.

The old man met him in New York, and led him to the corner of Fifth Avenue and 34th Street. He then pointed to a great new building there, a palace of reddish stone, with turrets and watchtowers thrusting up to the sky.

“That,” said the older man, “is the hotel I have just built for you to manage.”

“You must be joking,” the young man said.

“I can assure you I am not,” said the older man, a sly smile playing around his mouth.

The older man’s name was William Waldorf Astor, and the magnificent structure was the original Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.

The young clerk who became its first manager was George C. Bold. This young clerk never foresaw the turn of events that would lead him to become the manager of one of the world’s most glamorous hotels.

The Bible says that we are not to turn our backs on those who are in need, for we might be entertaining angels. Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than the things you acquire…