Sanity Insanity and Moi

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.

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She was never meant to be a techie. Her delicate fingers were not the best for crunching keys, nor were those hazel eyes meant to look at the monitor. She was caring, affectionate, loving and sweet. Swaroopa was made by the Gods with love. She was everything that a guy could ever ask. And they say she causes half of the traffic jams in Bangalore. Yes she can’t drive if her life depended on it!

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.

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In his abode, he scrambled through what he had. His 7th sense told him he was close. Yes there it was a message at around the same time he felt the ‘force’. It read, “I wish he was mine!”. The 6th sense went into overdrive and nearly took over his 7th sense as he figured out that it was a ‘Sigh’ and it came from — his heart skipped beats — on a trembling screen he read “S…W…A…R…O…O…P…A…SWAROOPA”. He trusted his computer and his calculation.

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)

I haven’t been much of a sports person all my life. But i was fit enough to play a match of cricket or a game of basketball. Of late the techie job that i have and my kind of lifestyle started to take a toll on my health. Following my employer’s motto, i ‘THINK’ and i IDEATE but i also took on the activity of IDLE-ating.

How bad did i get? Remember the movie Ice Age and the character Sid. He makes a portrait of himself on the rock and Diego draws a circle around his belly. Ya i started to look like that. Though more in a human form.

2 days back, a head rush or rather a knee jerk decision found me going up to the watchman and asking him the keys to the Gym, at my apartment.

Got into my room, changed and headed to the gym on the terrace. Most of the people are too lazy and more over since it was 7:30 in the evening, i didn’t expect any one to be there at the gym. As i neared i could make out that someone was using the thread-mill.

But Who?

OMG! A girl. And not bad .. she’s hot!!! Now its more of a challenge to me. My right-side of the brain telling my left-leg to step forward and enter the gym. At the same time my left-side of the brain ordering the right-leg to turn back. In that split second i almost did a 180 deg split, like Bruce Lee.

Snap! and i’m in the gym. I’m all too serious now. Kept the keys and the mobile by the window. Looked at her and said a ‘Hi’ and introduced myself. Hmmm.. she is smart. Doing her 2nd year BSc Computer Science at Christ College. And she answers to “Manisha”.

“C’mon tiger! You can do it. Be cool. Do what you are here for. Ask her for a date! No No .. Do the damn exercise. If not, you will eventually look like Sid. Then even if you are migrating to avoid the Ice Age you wont even be half as lucky as Sid. Your story will end at the hands of the Rhinos.”

Ok, straight away, for the dumbbells. Hmm 10Kg, lifted it.. naah too heavy. Ahhh, 5Kg, i picked one in each hand. In any given situation people will lift the dumbbell one at time, bottom-up, pumping their biceps. I didn’t.

May be because i was praying to God not to mess up and may be that Jesus decided to play a prank with me, i did the worst thing ever. I lifted them shoulder height with my arms stretched out to the sides. Yes, Jesus got me crucified in a dumbbell situation. And the 30 year old crucified virgin started having fun with me. I began bringing them both forward and then back all in an arm stretched situation. I began clapping with 5Kg dumbbells. I only clapped twice, had to keep them back as i realized it would be a nice time to put’em back.

After that i did ask her some thing and we did talk for like 10 sec. But i was too fucked with what i did, i just cant remember.

Well by that time she was done with the thread-mill. I thought, ok now its time to show her what i can do on a thread mill. I will just run till she leaves.My eyes just popped out when i saw that she was running for 30min flat. So, lets just walk on the thread-mill.

Noooo! she just got the mat and is about to do something lying on the floor. What do i ask her? What do i ask her? Wait my mobile is still near the window. I will ask her to get hat for me and i can thanks her for that…

“Excuse me! Can you please get me my mobile… Its there near the window”

“Sure”, she promptly gets me my mobile… Mobile you lucky bastard.

I take the mobile from her, still walking very proudly on the thread-mill, keeps it in the holder, which was looking more like a bottle holder and then revert

“Sorry, Thank You, I’m “.

She just smiles and walks away.

What ever i did never got me sweating, but that dialog just sure did get me all sweating. From that moment onwards i just walked and never looked at her!!!

P.S. : I’m thankful that she doesnt have the Tuss-Effect !!!

Just read along the 1337 series

Part - 1

Part - 2

Part - 3

Part - 4

Part - 5

Simply awesome …

The monsoon breeze blew with a freshness that put everything in its path with renewed zest. It carried a very warm chillness. He felt it against his face and stood motionless. He had felt that before and rejoiced with child like innocence. But now it was different. He felt a cold lining on his cheeks. The path traced out by tears was more vivid now. A slight shiver.

Looking deep into the horizon he stood on the empty banks. His eyes fixed, some where far, searching for something lost, or, perhaps someone. He found no purpose in his existence. His ambitions, goals, dreams were now mere ashes. As i watched his head began to droop, he looked down, breathing gently. His breathing grew heavy, he looked up, left out a deep cry and dropped to his knees as i ran towards him.

I had never seen him like that. The friend i know was unfaltering and cheerful. He would grin ear-to-ear, make faces and just about do anything that would put a smile on your face.

Of lately i was seeing the change in him. That was a transition time for him. He became worse day by day. The guy looked like he could use some help. Many a time i asked him what bothered him. He would struggle and bring a smile on his face and say nothing. But you could read that in his eyes.

A week ago, when i was out with couple of my friends i spotted him along with a girl. The walked hand in hand. She leaning on his shoulders. There was an air of sadness around them. The next day at office i told of what i saw and felt the other day. I saw a tear run down his cheeks. He turned away and began typing furiously, pretending to be working.

I was loosing him. I pushed for an answer. He just replied,

“Even my folks don’t trust me. They where my greatest strength. I told them everything, hoping they would help me. But they are far from convinced. They want me to come back home and join a company there…”

With moist eyes he just walked out..

I contemplated that his relation with the girl was unapproved at home. There was nothing that i could do.

Things changed from bad to worse in the last two days. I saw him opening a letter and the disbelief an agony on his face upon reading that. He came to me and asked if i could just take him some where far from the hustles of the city. He mentioned, it was time for me to know.

Got into my car and we just drove away from the madness of the city. The first of the monsoon clouds where beginning to build up in the sky. I just pushed on. I was taking to the place where i always ran for a bit of peace.

The first of the drops were beginning to break away from the clouds and shatter against the windshield. They looked like suicide bombers. As i stopped. The rain was pouring down with all vigor. We sat in the car. With his head down and tears flowing down, he just sat there. We just sat there. Dont know for how long. The only sound was the heavy drops breaking on the roof. The rumbling was like a premonition for something bad to come. I wanted to belive otherwise, but i couldn’t cheat my heart.

The rain began to calm and that left an eerie silence between us. I don’t know how long we sat there. He broke the silence. His voice trembling

“She left me. I loved her with all my heart. Still she left me. I was helpless”

“There would be something, that we can do. Give me her number, i will talk to her.”, out of desperation and the scary thought of loosing a friend i mumbled.

“No! There is nothing left to do. She has gone far. Far from any of our reach. My parents if only they could believe me…”

He opened the door and ran towards the shore. I followed.

The rain was now gone. Sun was struggling to break out of the clouds. Nature looked so beautiful and gorgeous. The whole place was damped. Narrow streams of water still flowing towards the river. The first monsoon shower. It was beautiful…

His breathing grew heavy, he looked up, left out a deep cry and dropped to his knees as i ran towards him. I helped him on to his feet. He hugged me. I couldn’t fight my tears. He broke away, walked two steps and stopped.

After a deep sigh, he reached for his pocket and took our an envelope. I recognized it as the one that i saw with him days before. He opened it and handed me the letter.

With trembling hands i opened the folds…

“Appraisal Letter 2008″

This was the set of books that i found at my friend’s place…

1. Kamasutra

2. Bhagawat Gita

3. The Da Vinci Code

4. Word Power made easy.

Nice combo of books … .. All necessary for a good living

I have been blogging for more than 2 years now. Though there are no hard and stead fast rules on blogging. Its a free space, people start with enthusiasm and finally their blog just die out. Why?.

“What not to blog!” or “How not to blog!”, though was never discussed as a topic, but at times we have had discussions on this. Surprisingly majority of the bloggers had the same views on what they promoted, what they looked in a blog, what they expect in a comment and the commentator, what was considered as a good post and when they thought as not so good blogs too.

As the blog-o-sphere is free to any one and any one can write about anybody, doesn’t really mean that you can post about anything. People have secret blog shrines for their love, have extensive write up on the topics that they love, that’s all fine, if its really yours …

Everyone agrees to the fact that, when they visit a blog, they believe that what ever you have written is yours. So if you are not writing yourself and just doing the Ctrl+C and Ctrl+V (copy and paste), chances are that the person wont come back, ever!!!. If you are desperate enough to put a mail forward, as it is, even if its a very good in reading, make sure that you give a brief intro to it. Like

“This is a mail forward that i got this morning. It is worth a read ….”

At least you will let the reader know that its not you who wrote it. If possible avoid mail forwards as posts in your blog.

Plagiarism is a strict No! If you want to put someone else’s content in your blog, give them the damn credit. Wont you feel happy when some one credits you for your work? and feel dejected when some stranger reaps the fruits of your creativity.

How to do this?

Link back to them from your post and give and excerpt of their post with your views. That will be appreciated, the other person will sure visit your blog too. Trust me, thats one way to build the network and gain popularity.

Internet is a good place to remain anonymous. So if you want to buildup credibility and wants to be known, then include a name that doesn’t look like “3l33t_wr1t3r”, “the nice blogger”, etc. Put some creativity into the naming, because at the end of the day, you will be known by that name. I remember calling up a fellow blogger who by the name Woke (full name - wokeupjustnow), and asked for “Woke??”. Well i gave him a shock, as nobody had ever called him Woke before.

This particularly helps in commenting, as the author of the post will only recognize the person by the name and blog id that has to be provided. Having a personalized Gravatar or Globally Recognized Avatars is a good idea.

By | Balu | on Mar 29, 2008 | Reply | Edit Did you get to speak to the owner? May be has a loong story to narrate! By Jerry on Mar 31, 2008 | Reply | Edit no balu … This was a mail fwd that i got recently I too agree .. he might have a long story to tell .

So your comments will look like the ones shown above.

Everyone may not be a master of English, but just avoid making common spelling mistakes. It really turns down the audience that you have in hand. Just like you wont really enjoy reading

This was the sameple post thwt i was trying to type and this ended like thios.

Dont be hasty, take time. Get used to the keyboard.

Its all that i can think of and from my experience. Urging others too to share their thoughts ..

Happy Blogging!!!

Whats happening …
Microsoft to Promote Linux: The Details

Microsoft and Novell reach deal on Linux

I cant stand this … KILL BILL VOL.3.

I have been reading this book for the past 2 1/2 months … .. and i have reached only 150 pages …

I should say that, if the daily commutation was long only by half an hour, i would have finished the book in 3 months … .. i dont know when i’m going to finish this …