field validation 2025-11-16T12:46:00Z

QField for QGIS - UnstableDo not use this app in production!This app contains the current development version of QField for QGIS. It is only meant for testing new features and finding bugs as early as possible. If you intend to use QField in production, please install the QField for QGIS app.

MP Saara AppMP Saara App is a mobile application developed by the Madhya Pradesh Revenue Department, designed to streamline various revenue-related processes. This app, intended primarily for the field staff of the department, offers functionalities such as resolving revenue cases, crop loss assessm

Automation Knowledge and TestThis app has 100 questions and all are divided into 10 sub parts. Each part has 10 questions. You have to guess the correct option out of 4 given options to check your knowledge on PLC, SCADA, DCS and Field Bus.Study all the 100 questions and answers.Also you can share the question with four options through the share button.Make sure you study before applying the test to increase your automation knowledget!!!

NRAIThis application designed and developed by STS is used to scan and validate Certificates issued to the Shooters of the NRAI.Features:QR code Scanner:The application lets the users to scan the QR Code available on the Shooters Certificate.Once the QR code is scanned the Application will show Sho

Rain lashed against the office windows like angry nails as I stared at the blinking "MISSED CALL" log. Mrs. Henderson’s third voicemail hissed through the speaker: "Your technician was a no-show! My basement’s flooding!" My knuckles whitened around the desk edge. Another disaster. Another invisible team member lost in the chaos of cross-town traffic, paper schedules, and dead phone batteries. That morning, I’d dispatched six cleaners, three PZE techs, and two airport meet-and-greet staff with no

Dust coated my throat as I stared at the crumpled notice - third trip this month to the district office. Each journey meant losing a day's wages, bouncing on overcrowded buses for hours just to hear "come back next week." That faded blue paper demanding proof of land ownership might as well have been a brick wall. Until Kavi shoved his cracked-screen smartphone at me, grinning like he'd found water in drought season. "Try this," he said, thumb hovering over a green icon with a village hut symbol

The scent of diesel and freshly turned earth hung thick as Mr. Henderson squinted at the tractor specs, his boot tapping restless rhythms on the barn floor. "Maintenance costs crippled my last supplier," he muttered, eyes darting to rain clouds gathering over his soybean fields. My throat tightened – this deal was slipping through my fingers like Midwest topsoil. Then I remembered the weight in my pocket. Not my grandfather’s lucky coin, but something better: 3S Connect.

Rain lashed against the kitchen window as I fumbled through the avalanche of papers on our counter - permission slips bleeding into grocery lists, half-colored drawings mocking my desperation. "Field trip today!" my daughter chirped between cereal bites, oblivious to the panic clawing up my throat. That cursed paper with its dotted line for guardian signatures had evaporated into our domestic Bermuda Triangle. My fingers trembled against cold granite as the clock screamed 7:42 AM - bus departure

The scent of wet earth usually soothes me, but that Tuesday it reeked of impending disaster. My boots sank into the mud as I stared at the soybean field – half-drowned seedlings screaming for nitrogen I couldn’t deliver. Back in the pickup, water dripped from my hat onto the stack of smeared planting logs. Jose’s frantic call still echoed: "The frost damage notes washed away boss! Whole west quadrant’s a guess now!" Paper had betrayed us again. That familiar acid taste of panic rose in my throat

Rain lashed against my apartment windows last Tuesday, trapping me indoors with that familiar restlessness. My fingers instinctively traced phantom stick grips on the sofa arm - muscle memory from fifteen years of muddy pitches and cracked ribs. That's when I discovered it: Field Hockey Game glowing on my tablet, promising more than pixels. Within moments, I was breathlessly swiping through formation options, my pulse syncing with the countdown timer as I prepared for my first custom league matc

The cracked screen of my phone glowed like a beacon in the Andean darkness when the vibration jolted me awake. Three hours from the nearest paved road, surrounded by peaks that devoured cell signals, that insistent buzz felt miraculous. I scrambled for my satellite phone first - nothing. Then I saw it: XgenPlus’ crimson notification badge blazing through the cracked glass, bearing an urgent embargoed report from my editor. My thumb trembled as I tapped it open, mountain winds howling around my t

Rain lashed against my office window as another frantic call buzzed through – Dave stranded at the industrial park with no schematic, cursing about water valves that didn't match the century-old blueprints I'd faxed yesterday. My fingers trembled over coffee-stained spreadsheets, desperately cross-referencing subcontractor locations against client addresses while three other engineers radioed in simultaneously. This wasn't management; it was digital-age torture. The smell of stale panic hung thi

Rain lashed against the van windshield like gravel as I fishtailed down the mud-slicked service road, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Some idiot had driven over a fiber node box – again – plunging half the county into darkness during the worst thunderstorm in a decade. My clipboard slid off the passenger seat, work orders scattering like confetti in the footwell as lightning flashed. That’s when the second alert buzzed: hospital generator failing. Panic tasted like copper in my mouth until

The stench of diesel fuel clung to my uniform as I fumbled with three clipboards in the company van's cab. Rain lashed against the windshield while my phone buzzed incessantly - Jimmy needed emergency roof access approval at the downtown site, Maria's van broke down near the highway, and client Johnson was screaming about delayed service reports. My pen leaked blue ink across three different spreadsheets, mirroring the chaos of my crumbling field operations. That morning, I nearly drove into a d

Rain lashed against the 32nd-floor windows as another spreadsheet error notification pinged on my laptop. My knuckles turned white gripping my coffee mug - until I swiped left and suddenly smelled virtual diesel fumes. That's when the hydraulic feedback physics kicked in, vibrating through my phone as my digital plow bit into pixelated soil. This wasn't escapism; it was muscle-memory therapy for my cubicle-cramped hands.

The Midwest sun beat down like a hammer on anvil as I wiped diesel grease from my hands, watching Old Man Henderson squint skeptically at the combine's cracked rotor. "Ain't got weeks for paperwork games," he grunted, kicking the tire with his worn boot. My stomach dropped - this was the third lead this month slipping through my fingers like grain dust. Then I remembered the alien rectangle burning a hole in my toolkit.

Rain lashed against my office window like angry nails as three simultaneous emergency calls flashed on my dashboard. Johnson's furnace died in sub-zero temps, the Thompsons' basement flooded, and old Mrs. Henderson's medical alert system malfunctioned - all within a 15-block radius. My clipboard trembled in my hands, coffee long gone cold. Five technicians scattered across town, two vans stuck in traffic, and zero visibility. Sarah's voice crackled through the radio: "Dispatch, I'm circling Mapl

The sun was a merciless orb frying the asphalt as I crouched beside a malfunctioning HVAC unit, sweat stinging my eyes. My phone buzzed—another customer screaming about a missed appointment. I’d just driven 45 minutes only to realize my crumpled work order listed the wrong address. *Again*. My toolkit felt like an anchor, and the dread of another 1-star review churned in my gut. Before Zoho FSM, chaos wasn’t just part of the job—it *was* the job. Paperwork vanished like ghosts, dispatchers yelle

REDCap Mobile AppThe REDCap Mobile App is a secure application designed for building and managing online surveys and databases, specifically tailored for use in conjunction with the REDCap web application. This app allows users to efficiently collect data in various scenarios, particularly when Internet access is limited or unavailable. The app is available for the Android platform, enabling users to download the REDCap Mobile App and utilize its features for data collection.REDCap, which stands

Network SurveyThe Network Survey Android App provides a basic survey capability for logging and analyzing Cellular networks, Wi-Fi networks, Bluetooth Devices, and GNSS constellations. Capture detailed records of signal strength, network information, and device data. All data can be conveniently log