A real story : just fantastic

Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi 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. Naiveness 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 centres 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 awestuck; 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-realisation. 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 valour 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.

 

Live humbly, there are great people around us, let us learn from them!

बेहूदा

-भारत कुमार

   इंटरव्यू देने के लिए जैसे ही वह उम्मीदवार कमरे में दाखिल हुआ मैंने उसे पहचान लिया। यह वही लड़का था जिसे मैं अकसर आफिस आते हुए बस में देखा करता था। उसे देखते ही मन चिढ़ जाता।

उसका गंदा व्यक्तित्व, ओछी हरकतें और  भिखारियों सा पहनावा देख अजीब सी घृणा  भर गई थी मेरे अंदर। एक दिन जब वह बस में चतुर्थ श्रेणी के घटिया लिबास में मेरे साथ बैठा तो मन में आया कि उठकर कहीं और बैठ जाऊं। लेकिन थोड़ी देर बाद वो अपनी आदत के मुताबिक स्वयं उठ गया और महिलाओं के लिए आरक्षित सीटों के पास जाकर खड़ा हो गया। फिर उसकी नजरें नजदीक की सीट पर आंखों पर चश्मा डाले बैठी एक लड़की के चेहरे पर रह-रह की फिरने लगीं। एक दिन की बात हो तो कोई बात नहीं, लेकिन ये उसका रोज का पेशा था। वह कनाट प्लेस में कहीं काम करता था क्योंकि मैंने उसे हमेशा वहीं उतरते देखा।

किन्तु वह अपना गंतव्य स्थान आने से बहुत पहले ही अपनी सीट से उठ जाता और बुरे आचरण में संलिप्त हो जाता। ठीक है वह नवयुवक था लेकिन उसकी उम्र के दूसरे कई युवक भी तो थे जो बेहूदगी की उस हद तक नहीं पहुंचते थे।  मैंने कभी सोचा भी नहीं था कि वो कभी मेरे पास नौकरी के लिए आएगा और मैं उसे अपने पास नौकरी देने के लिए तैयार हो जाऊंगा। बीस-पच्चीस मिनट बात करने पर मैंने जाना कि वो अन्य उम्मीदवारों के बराबर योग्यता और अनुभव रखता है। लेकिन उसके चयन का सबसे महत्वपूर्ण कारण रहा कि घृणा भाव से ही सही लेकिन वो मेरा परिचित जैसा बन चुका है। फैसला तो कर चुका था लेकिन संशय हो रहा था कि कहीं मैंने गलत निर्णय तो नहीं ले लिया। अपने निर्णय को सही साबित करने के लिए मैंने उसे हिदायत दी, ”तो मोहन, अपने पुराने आफिस से हिसाब लेकर तुम अगले सप्ताह से हमें ज्वाइन कर सकते हो।  लेकिन इस बात का ध्यान रखना कि हमारे आफिस का स्तर तुम्हारी पोशाक से गिरे नहीं।

”जैसी आपकी इच्छा। वैसे भी यह जरूरी नहीं कि हम जीवन का प्रत्येक काल अपनी इच्छानुसार जीये। कई बार समझौते करने पड़ते हैं।” मोहन ने कहा।  ”मतलब मैं समझा नहीं। तुम कहना क्या चाहते हो?”

मेज पर हाथ रखते हुए वह बोला, ”मैं पहले बहुत आकर्षक कपड़े ही पहनता था। उन दिनों मैं कई गरीब परिवार के लड़कों की आंखों में देखता कि उनमें मेरे जैसे कपड़े पहनने की इच्छा उत्पन्न हो रही है और अगले ही पल उस इच्छा को आर्थिक कारणों से ऐसे वस्त्र न खरीद पाने की बेबसी मार दे रही है। तब से मैंने सामान्य कपड़ों से भी गये बीते कपड़े पहनने शुरू कर दिये ताकि शहर के सबसे विपन्न व्यक्ति को भी मेरी वजह से कष्ट न मिले।”

उसका संस्मरण सुन मेरा दिमाग चकरा गया। सोचने लगा कि एक तरफ इतने श्रेष्ठ विचार रखने वाला व्यक्ति दूसरी तरफ लोफरों जैसी छिछोरी हरकते कैसे कर सकता है? मेरे स्पष्टीकरण मांगने पर उसने कहा, ”आपने देखा होगा कि मैं केवल सामान्य से भी कम शक्ल सूरत वाली लड़कियों को ही देखता हूं। कालेज के दिनों में मैं महसूस करता था कि सुंदर नयन नख्श वाली लड़कियों में हर कोई रूचि लेता था लेकिन काली, बोझिल चेहरे वाली लड़कियों की उपेक्षा की जाती थी। इससे उन्हें दुख होता। उनका दुख कुछ हद तक कम करने के लिए उन्हें एहसास दिलाने की जरूरत थी संसार में वो उपेक्षित नहीं है। दूसरी लड़कियों की तरह उनकी जिंदगी भी महत्वपूर्ण है। यह एहसास उन्हें मेरे द्वारा देख लिये जाने से मिल जाता था। कालेज के बाद भी यह कार्य जारी रहा। ऐसी किसी दूसरी भावना को मैंने इसमें कभी शामिल नहीं होने दिया जिससे मेरा चरित्र मलिन हो।”

”लेकिन इसके लिए आधे रास्ते में अपनी सीट छोड़ने की क्या जरूरत है?”

”मेरे सीट छोड़ने का इससे कोई संबंध नहीं है। इसके पीछे दूसरी कहानी है। एक दिन मैं शाम को सात-आठ बजे कालेज से घर लौट रहा था। जिस सीट पर बैठा था उसके बगल में एक अधेड़ व्यक्ति खड़े-खड़े सो रहा था। मैंने अनुमान लगाया कि वह डयूटी करके आ रहा है और थकान की वजह से खड़े-खड़े ही झपकियां ले रहा है। मन में आया कि अपनी सीट उसे दे दूं। लेकिन फिर खड़े-खड़े अपने लम्बे कष्टदायी सफर की कल्पना कर मैंने सोचा कि जब मैं आधा सफर तय कर लूंगा तब सीट दे दूंगा। इस आदमी को भी थोड़ा सूकून मिल जाएगा और मैं भी उतना ही कष्ट सहूंगा जितना मैं स्वाभाविक रीति से सह सकता हूं। अपने निश्चय के अनुरूप मैंने आधे रास्ते में उनके लिए सीट छोड़ दी। उसके बाद दूसरो के लिए आधे रास्ते में अपनी सीट छोड़ देना मेरी आदत बन गई।

इन आदतों से मुझे एहसास हुआ कि सेवा के लिए जरूरी नहीं हम समाज सेवी संस्था ही बनाए। एक आम आदमी अपनी दिनचर्या में ही समाज सेवा के लिए कई अवसर खोज सकता है।” मोहन की सभी बातें सुनने के बाद मैंने जाना कि उसे नौकरी देकर मैंने कोई गलती नहीं की है।

आभार         http://www.bhartiyapaksha.com/?p=3470

देवी अहिल्याबाई का गोमाता को न्याय

एक बार की बात है इन्दौर नगर के किसी मार्ग के किनारे एक गाय अपने बछड़े
के साथ खड़ी थी, तभी देवी अहिल्याबाई के पुत्र मालोजीराव अपने रथ पर सवार
होकर गुजरे । मालोजीराव बचपन से ही बेहद द्यारारती व उच्छृंखल प्रवृत्ति
के थे । राह चलते लोगों को परेशान करने में उन्हें विशेष आंनद आता था ।
गाय का बछड़ा अकस्मात उछलकर उनके रथ के सामने आ गया । गाय भी उसके पीछे
दौड़ी पर तब तक मालोजी का रथ बछड़े के ऊपर से निकल चुका था । रथ अपने पहिये
से बछड़े को कुचलता हुआ आगे निकल गया था । गाय बहुत देर तक अपने पुत्र की
मृत्यु पर शोक मनाती रही । तत्पष्चात उठकर देवी अहिल्याबाई के दरबार के
बाहर टंगे उस घण्टे के पा जा पहुँची, जिसे अहिल्याबाई ने प्राचीन
राजपरम्परा के अनुसार त्वरित न्याय हेतु विशेष रूप से लगवाया था।
अर्थात्‌ जिसे भी न्याय की जरूरत होती,वह जाकर उस घन्टें को बजा देता था।
जसके बाद तुरन्त दरबार लगता तुरन्त न्याय मिलता । घन्टें की आवाज सुनकर
देवी अहिल्याबाई ने ऊपर से एक विचित्र दृश्य देखा कि एक गाय न्याय का
घन्टा बजा रही है । देवी ने तुरन्त प्रहरी को आदेश दिया कि गाय के मालिक
को दरबार में हाजिर किया जाये। कुछ देर बाद गाय का मालिक हाथ जोड़ कर
दरबार में खड़ा था। देवी अहिल्याबाई ने उससे कहा कि '' आज तुम्हारी गाय ने
स्वंय आकर न्याय की गुहार की है । जरूर तुम गो माता को समय पर चारा पानी
नही देते होगें। '' उस व्यक्ति ने हाथ जोड़कर कहा कि माते श्री ऐसी कोई
बात नही है । गोमाता अन्याय की शिकार तो हुई है ,परन्तु उसका कारण में
नही कोई ओर है, उनका नाम बताने में मुझे प्राणो का भय है ।'' देवी
अहिल्या ने कहा कि अपराधी जो कोई भी है उसका नाम निडर होकर बताओं ,तुम्हे
हम अभय -दान देते है। '' तब उस व्यक्ति ने पूरी वस्तुस्थित कह सुनायी ।
अपने पुत्र को अपराधी जानकर देवी अहिल्याबाई तनिक भी विचलीत नही हुई। और
फिर गोमाता स्वयं उनके दरबार में न्याय की गुहार लगाने आयी थी। उन्होने
तुरन्त मालोजी की पत्नी मेनावाई को दरबार में बुलाया यदि कोई व्यक्ति
किसी माता के पुत्र की हत्या कर दें ,तो उसे क्या दण्ड मिलना चाहिए ?
मालो जी की पत्नी ने कहा कि ÷ जिस प्रकार से हत्या हुई, उसी प्रकार उसे
भी प्राण-दण्ड मिलना चाहिए। देवी अहिल्या ने तुरन्त मालोजी राव का प्राण-
दण्ड सुनाते हुए उन्हें उसी स्थान पर हाथ -पैर बाँधकर उसी अवस्था में
मार्ग पर डाल दिया गया। रथ के सारथी को देवी ने आदेश दिया ,पर सारथी ने
हाथ जोड़कर कहा '' मातेश्री ,मालोजी राजकुल के एकमात्र कुलदीपक है। आप
चाहें तो मुझे प्राण -दण्ड दे दे,किन्तु मे उनके प्राण नही ले सकता ।''
तब देवी अहिल्याबाई स्वंय रथ पर सवार हुई और मालोजी की ओर रथ को तेजी से
दोड़ाया, तभी अचानक एक अप्रत्याशित घटना हुई। रथ निकट आते ही फरियादी
गोमाता रथ निकट आ कर खड़ी हो गयी । गोमाता को हटाकर देवी ने फिर एक बार रथ
दौड़ाया , फिर गोमाता रथ के सामने आ खड़ी हो गयी। सारा जन समुदाय गोमाता और
उनके ममत्व की जय जयकार कर उठा। देवी अहिल्या की आँखो से भी अश्रुधारा बह
निकलीं । गोमाता ने स्वंय का पुत्र खोकर भी उसके हत्यारे के प्राण ममता
के वशीभूत होकर बचाये। जिस स्थान पर गोमाता आड़ी खड़ी हुई थी, वही स्थान आज
इन्दौर में ( राजबाड़ा के पास) '' आड़ा बाजार के नाम से जाना जाता है।''

If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.

Change your thinking,... Change Your mindset...

It will take just 67 seconds to read this and change your thinking..
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.
One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs.
His bed was next to the room's only window.
The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end.
They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation..
Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and colour of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.
Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every colour and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.
As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by.
Although the other man could not hear the band - he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days, weeks and months passed.
One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.
She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
0A
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.
He strained to slowly turn to look out the window besides the bed.
It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.
The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
She said, 'Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.'
Epilogue:
There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.
Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.
If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.
'Today is a gift, that is why it is called The Present .'

The origin of this letter is unknown, but please pass it on.

A Lesson in Ethics by an Army Officer

A Lesson in Ethics by an Army Officer
taken from indian defence review

By Maj Gen Dhruv C Katoch
Issue: Net Edition

 

It was the summer of 67. I was all of sixteen years old, had just finished my schooling from a prestigious boarding school and was on a sabbatical working out what to do with my life.

My father was a colonel in the army and had a year to go before retirement. We were living in a comfortable government bungalow in Ajmer but as far as material luxuries go, we didn’t have much; no car, no scooter and no refrigerator either – the status symbols of those days. Television had not yet spread its wings in the country and a small transistor radio was our means of keeping in touch with the rest of the world. We however, felt no sense of deprivation and the lack of amenities perhaps spurred our innate abilities to keep ourselves occupied in more meaningful ways.

During those days, it always upset me that father never let us use the office jeep for visiting friends, going to the market or seeing the various attractions which the town had to offer. My brothers, my sister and I would either cycle or walk to where ever we had to go and my mother would take a rickshaw for her occasional trips to the market. Father was the head of his department and could so easily have used service transport for his family had he been so inclined. Many government officials routinely did so but for father such an act was unthinkable. It was also unthinkable for us to question him about it. One evening however, I mustered up the courage and did the unthinkable.

‘Why don’t you let us use the office jeep sometimes, Dad?’ I asked. We were sitting in the drawing room and father had just poured himself a stiff tot of rum. Mom looked at me quizzically, wondering where such a conversation would lead but refrained from saying anything. Dad turned, took a sip from his drink, looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘I would son, but the pear would not go down my throat’.

 

 ‘What pear?’ I asked.
Father waited awhile and then narrated this most amazing tale. ‘When I was a kid your age, or perhaps a shade younger than you are now’, he said, ‘I had gone out to play with my friends. On the farther side of the village there was a beautiful orchard where the first lot of pears had ripened on the trees. Which young bunch of kids could resist such a temptation? Well, we crawled under the fence and with an intrepidity that would have done a cat burglar proud, took all we could carry before scampering back to safety. I took my share of the loot home, as proud as a warrior returning home with conquests from a famous victory’.

‘Your grandfather was sitting on his favourite chair on the verandah smoking his hookah. It was over a decade since your grandfather had retired from the army, but he was as fit as a fiddle, still had the strength of an ox and his back was ramrod straight. I still remember the scene so vividly; the dusk settling in, the shadows lengthening and the snow clad mountains jutting out in pristine purity over a pale blue sky that was gradually darkening.

The stillness of the evening was broken only by the murmur of the breeze and the occasional gurgling rattle like sound emanating from your grandfather’s hookah’. Father paused, as if reliving those days and then continued with his tale. ‘I ambled over to him’ he said ‘and offered him a plate with the freshly cut fruit. I don’t know what I expected to get from him; praise maybe, appreciation perhaps or possibly just an acknowledgement of my boyish skill? What I got, however, was something totally different. Your grandfather instantly divined the source of the offering and its method of procurement, but he didn’t say anything about that to me. He simply said that the pear would not go down his throat as he found it impossible to eat anything that had not been honestly obtained. There was no admonishment in his tone, no raising of the voice in anger, just a quiet statement of fact. And then your grandfather let the matter rest’.

Dad paused again, looked at me and continued, ‘I took the plate back with an overriding sense of pain and guilt. Away from your grandfather’s eyes, I took a bite of the pear to see if there was any truth in the assumption. Well, the pear wouldn’t go down my throat either. So next morning, I confessed all to the owner of the orchard. I was feeling a bit wretched but atonement was called for if I was ever to live down the sense of shame I felt. The owner, a distant relative, gave me a stern look all through my sorry narrative, but once again there was no outrage, no admonishment. Putting his hand over my shoulder, he took me inside his house and to my utter surprise, presented me with a basket of fresh ripe pears.’ There was silence for some time, then dad continued, ‘life offers many temptations, son, but some of us cannot get the pear down our throats’.

It’s a lesson I never forgot. Life offers so many temptations, so many pears. Having retired now after having served with honour as a third generation officer in the Indian Army, I hope this is a legacy which my children will carry to the future.

Maj Gen Dhruv C Katoch, Additional Director, Centre for Land Warfare Studies (CLAWS).
August 5th, 2010 . 

 

Shared by sandeshnarayane@gmail.com

 

दुनिया को नसीहत देने वाला कुछ नहीं कर पाता जबकि उसका स्वयं पालन करने वाला कामयाबी की बुलंदियों तक पहुंच जाता है

चाणक्य एक जंगल में झोपड़ी बनाकर रहते थे। वहां अनेक लोग उनसे परामर्श और ज्ञान प्राप्त करने के लिए आते थे। जिस जंगल में वह रहते थे,वह पत्थरों और कंटीली झाडि़यों से भरा था। चूंकि उस समय प्राय: नंगे पैर रहने का ही चलन था, इसलिए उनके निवास तक पहुंचने में लोगों को अनेक कष्टों का सामना करना पड़ता था। वहां पहुंचते-पहुंचते लोगों के पांव लहूलुहान हो जाते थे। एक दिन कुछ लोग उस मार्ग से बेहद परेशानियों का सामना कर चाणक्य तक पहुंचे। एक व्यक्ति उनसे निवेदन करते हुए बोला, 'आपके पास पहुंचने में हम लोगों को बहुत कष्ट हुआ। आप महाराज से कहकर यहां की जमीन को चमड़े से ढकवाने की व्यवस्था करा दें। इससे लोगों को आराम होगा।'उसकी बात सुनकर चाणक्य मुस्कराते हुए बोले, 'महाशय, केवल यहीं चमड़ा बिछाने से समस्या हल नहीं होगी। कंटीले व पथरीले पथ तो इस विश्व में अनगिनत हैं। ऐसे में पूरे विश्व में चमड़ा बिछवाना तो असंभव है। हां, यदि आप लोग चमड़े द्वारा अपने पैरों को सुरक्षित कर लें तो अवश्य ही पथरीले पथ व कंटीली झाडि़यों के प्रकोप से बच सकते हैं।' वह व्यक्ति सिर झुकाकर बोला, 'हां गुरुजी, मैं अब ऐसा ही करूंगा।' इसके बाद चाणक्य बोले, 'देखो, मेरी इस बात के पीछे भी गहरा सार है। दूसरों को सुधारने के बजाय खुद को सुधारो। इससे तुम अपने कार्य में विजय अवश्य हासिल कर लोगे। दुनिया को नसीहत देने वाला कुछ नहीं कर पाता जबकि उसका स्वयं पालन करने वाला कामयाबी की बुलंदियों तक पहुंच जाता है।' इस बात से सभी सहमत हो गए।
Source:http://shirdikesaibabakesaisandesh.blogspot.com/