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)
