Love Story 2008 – High Cohesion, High Coupling !

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.


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.


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)

Single, Sex and Marriage

Of late, especially after i booked my flat, my folks are after me, pressurizing every bit inside me to get married. Well, thought you should know, i’ve been a bachelor and i had my share of heart breaks and breakings. After the last one, i just decided to settle with the drunk chicks at the pubs or rather get’em drunk. But how the hell am i supposed to know that my folks were having such plans for me. Trust me, its tough to be a single, good looking, smart dark bachelor down south (i love vanity). The nosy neighbors and relatives makes sure that the juice is sucked out of you. Damn you Suckers!!!

The hard part is, you don’t get to choose or say a word beyond telling yes/no to the girls that they parade in front of you. I consider myself lucky, some guys i *knew* never even had that.

Son! THIS IS YOUR BRIDE! Marry HER!

Yes dad!!!

I mean whats the whole pressure thing about? I’ve been a really well spoiled bachelor so far, waking up and sleeping with the timings of people half-way round the world, eating anything that i could lay my hands on – stale breads, half-cooked spicy chicken curry that cleans your food-track once a month, Domino’s pizzas that run for 2 days etc. etc.. Now i’m being even more responsible by booking a flat (i need to mention that it was again pressure from folks). Now that i have a place for myself, the next thing that i need to concentrate is my career, blogging, make some money etc etc. I’m not ready to be tied down.

What are the odds, that the girl they pick for you is not gonna make your life miserable? Dad’s got a comeback for that too, “At least both the families are there to help you out with that”. Then why cant i just find someone with whom i’m comfortable with? Facts to be laid straight, yes they did take care of you for a long time, but do they have to pick up your partner too.

Am i ready to take the responsibility? Hell no! May be i would like to get married, after i know that person a bit more. If not, then jumping into marriage is no different than having sex, with her and your parent’s consent!

As a closing note, the last conversation with my dad ended with him telling me this -

“As a bachelor, you live like a King and die like a Dog, Once married, you live like a Dog and die like a King”

No idea who put that in his head, but i sure did got it out. Even my mom was left gaping after that dialogue.

Deadly Competition

What we do these days involves competition. No matter what. A a kid we race to the gate and back. As teens we race our bikes. As adults we race against time and colleagues. The time that we live in Competition is viewed as the source of creativity and self improvement. As a kid we are expected to be the top scorer in the class, not the smartest, as teens we are expected to be responsible but not creative and as the workforce we are expected to bring in profit and not innovation.

Why does competition has to be so bad? Slowly but steadily everyone starts to keeps expectations out of you and keeps reminding you about that. You fall victim to it losing your creativity. Its because we want to beat that record and get our names in there. We benchmark every thing everyday, we fall into The Curse of Great Expectation.

But what about creativity? If i have ever done anything that is creative or innovated an idea, its because i didn’t take part in a race. On the same grounds i hate taking exams too. Exams for me is again about breaking records and false derivatives. With time being most valued, exams seems to be the only way people want to find talents.

There is a trend with the organizations now. They are still competing and very much in the race. They do it in more ‘innovative’ ways. They ask you to just innovate and come up with some thing very brilliant. Even if you didn’t mean that to be part of any race or drive the race. Its used by the organization to outrun their competitor.

The human cost to win the organization’s race or the cost of health on onself is often disregarded. But what happens to those who stay out of the competition and decide to be .. uhh .. say free. They have immense potential to be creative and inventive. But why don’t they?.

The Society is stereotyped in believing that competing is the best way to progress. So much of the things that these so called ‘free birds’ innovate are considered inferior. They eventually gets into the race to survive or fall.

I knew of a person during my college days. He was this extra brilliant guy. There wasn’t much that he couldn’t answer about technology. Few professors realized his potential. But but the rest of the folks were unforgiving. Had the mentoring right he wouldn’t had to settle for a rather uhhh normal techie kind of job with an average company.

Its time we wake up to say no to the unwanted competitions around us.