a PSP can be used for Twittering …
Ujj’s Idea
alljunaki and his roommates comes up with this awesome video.
“The Making of Kalia[our dog] Mansion @ the Adams family.
It all started with We cleaning our house on a Sunday and decided to cleanup old rags, Oh wait, let give it to our Kalia[our dog]. Remember he has sleepless night because its very cold during the nights.. hmm hmm exactly.. May be that will stop him from pulling our clothes hanged in the terrace for drying
Creators: Pravin, Rajiv http://twitter.com/raveathon
Sound: Abi http://twitter.com/allajunaki
Cameraman: Jimmy http://twitter.com/godsown“
Here is the video –
awesome …
I was there. It didn’t feel great.
I was scared, i was lost, i was wandering in the dark.
I hit the Writer’s Block.
Trust me its a damn scary place. Felt good when i reached there, mainly due to the fact that i was busy at work and i was in no way even getting time to pee. Forced into the dark the force grew weaker in me. Two days back i faced the bitter reality that i had hit the block, i shouldn’t have taken the left turn at the T-junction at the dead-end, for what joy?, i have no idea.
Goddess Wikipedia (a.k.a. Goddess Saraswathi in Hindu Mythology), describes Writer’s Block as :
Writer’s block is a phenomenon involving temporary loss of ability to begin or continue writing, usually due to lack of inspiration or creativity.
Naah!!! Nothing of these caused my condition. I had inspiration(lots of it) and i had lots to write but i didn’t. Why? I needed a reason and today i have a reason to write. Breaking the door, like Rajani, i’m out with the reason i needed (I wish it was more like a girl that i walked out with).
20th Sept, 15th Oct and this one on the 30th of Oct, that was the frequency of my posts in the last 2 months.
Looking back i ponder what made me stop, was it the work or was it something more noir. Yes, work was one of the reasons, undeniably. 20+ hrs of working on a single day, my friends began referring me as IBM‘s bitch. Getting adjusted to the new life was one definite factor. But when i search deep it was something more than that. One that pains me still, tried shrugging it off, but couldn’t, it still lingers in the darkest thoughts. It can be described as one that is scariest for a writer. I was never credited for something that i wrote. Even my closest friends didnt acknowledge the fact that it was me. Bang! i got a “500 Internal Server Error” when i was expecting a “200 OK” with “Connection: Keep-Alive”.
Any way its all behind me, and i at least think that i’m back.
BTW my lingo has now been reduced into the results of an aftermath of heavy AS2/AS3 testing, with heavy dosage of XML and Development team that doesnt consent to bugs.
Taken this opportunity, if u would like anyone who is coming across this post to share, what made them hit writer’s block and how they did eventually overcome it….
It Hurts … when you know a person for so long and yet she compares you, measures you ..
It Hurts … when things that you do goes unnoticed …
It Hurts … when she tells you, that you are not good enough …
It Feels Better — when i say FUCK YOU !!!
Alluwahlia Singh, the malayali, is a born techie. He speaks a dialect of English that only an Itanium-based server can decode. He is destined to be one of the greatest programming minds of his time. At
the age of 15, he got his first computer, and ever since it was his only love. They spent sleepless nights traveling through the endless world of computers and technology.
Some say, when he snores you can actually decode it as a binary code to print Fibonacci series, infinitely. When asked, he would say even before he could ever perfect the program or rather his snore, he had to wake up. Yes, he was that kind of guy.
It was the summer of 2008, May 27th. At work, Alluwahlia was deeply lost in thought. He was about to crack the Public-Key encryption and prove it as faulty. His 7th sense (the 6th sense was used for coding, so his actual 6th sense switched to the next available slot) registered the transient state of divine matter. He was startled by the effect that it left on his senses. He felt something hard in his pants. As he checked what it was, he promptly found his lost keys. His friends were amazed at the transition. Alluwahlia couldn’t believe it. So he began backtracking the logs that he had collected.
Still in the summer of 2008, May 27th. At work, Swaroopa couldn’t take the heat from the CPU anymore. She decided to take a break. If she hadn’t decided to go out at exactly 3:55:36 pm (milisecond precision is unavailable at the time of writing this post) her life would have remained the same. But things were destined to change. On her way out, she spots something — or rather someone — all engrossed in the work. (Un)fortunately, that thing — or rather he — was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen in her life. Men at Work always turned her ‘ON’. In a second, she stopped, glanced at him, and left a sigh wishing he was her’s.
Little did she realize that the butterfly-effect of the ‘sigh’ would change the course of her life for ever.
Jumping out of his seat, he ran out and hopped on to his blue Bajaj Enticer. Sensing the ‘master’, the bike auto starts and greets him, with a “Hello Allu!” in a female voice. Ignoring it all, he punches
something into his mobile and with the help of a divine navigational service (known to mankind and lesser mortals as Google Maps) he triangulates her position on the Vodafone network.
He was motionless as reality hit him. “What? She lives a kilometer away?”
Referring to his bike he mouths the command. “Bluey — take me to your master’s love”.
And loverboy on aforementioned Bluey sped — actually rocketed — towards NGV from Maharaja even before the cops in Bangalore could go “yenu speedu saar!”
Meanwhile, dreaming of the techno-man she saw at work, Swaroopa was lost in her own world, when she heard the roar of a bike. Looking down from her balcony, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Yes it’s Alluwahlia. She looked at him and gave a ‘sign’ that almost crashed his system. But he decoded it with the 16-bit processor from the car that was parked nearby.
The message read, “Darling without you I’m NULL. You complete my C Programs with a semi-colon. I will always return(0) when i’m with you. Never will I ever cause any segmentation faults. My Love, My CPU, please initiate the steps to de-allocate me from his 32-bit space and re-allocate me in your giga-byte heart. assert(“Please”);”
Using the advanced predictive text of his E71 phone, he scripted the perfect Perl script to get her down. That was the beginning of the most wonderful love story in the techie world.
His friends found them drunk in each others love, and also found them drunk in each other drinks, at the Legends of Rock. She was laughing non-stop and he, by her side, talking about his latest hack.
They played Wall.E and Eve in the shambles of Kanakpura Road.
Their fun was short lived. He got a call from the parent process and had to leave in a short time. With a 98% utilization of his memory, he left Swaroopa back and flew. And with memory filled of love — virtual memory inclusive — she waits indefinitely, a blocking call without a timeout, for the return invocation.
return(0);
P. S.: However, as most projects in Bangalore, by the time this blog post was scripted, Swaroopa fell for the writer. Alluwahlia self-discontinued himself and is now an obsolete, end-of-life legacy system with no interfaces or support.
(This post has been co-authored with 2s)