Khan Sahab aap ko pata hona chahiay tha...

Khan Sahab aap kia soch k haam jahiloon ko aik QAUM banany niklay thay... App ko pata hona chahiay tha hamain izzat say sar utha k nahin chalna hamain tu dollars chahiain... hamain taleem nahin chahiay hamain sarkain aur laptop chahiain.... hamain sehat nahin chahiay hamain tu doctroon ki hartalain chahiain... hamain rozgar bhi nahin chahiay hamain tu qarzay chahiain... hamain Freedom of Information law ki zaroorat nahin hamain tu apnay kiay chupanay hain.... hamain whistle blowing ka qanoon bhi nahin chahiay hamain tu rishwat laini bhi hai aur dani bhi... hamain tax bhi nahin daina hamain tu awam k tax main say baray say bara hissa chahiay... hamain imanatdari ki kia zaroort jo hamari corruption k aray aay... Hamain insaaniant nahin chahiay hamain tu ghuday chahiay jo ghareeboon ka bachoon say roti cheen ka hamaray kuttoon ka pait bhartay rahain.... Khan Sahab hamain apni soch apni fiqr apni aqal apna shaoor isstaimal nahin karna hamain tu chodhrioon, Mianoon, Quraishioon, Somoroon aur bhatta khor badmashoon ko hi vote dena hai.... KHAN Sahab aap ko pata hona chahiay tha...

100 Word Story, may be Love... :)

A light turned on and he felt that gush of life in his oddly shaped mechanized body. It wasn’t supposed to happen, not to the rejected ones, but it did. He spent years hiding, covering his gory body. To be someone what he was not, to be normal, to be ordinary. But then he saw her, the real her, not the metal she wore. He saw the dents in her arm, the gash over her cheek yet she was the most beautiful thing he ever saw and he knew he was already perfect for someone, just the way he was.

Dream Architect…

yeah that’s me… I am not joking I am sure you will agree with me soon enough. This Saturday while I was enjoying my one of many weekend naps a friend called and we talked about stuff. After some time I woke up and didn’t know whether it was for real or I was just dreaming. So I groped for my phone to see the call log in hope that I had a good chat with the friend. I found my phone and felt happy to see his name on the list. But then after some more time I woke up again and was going through my phone and his name was no where to be found on the log… I never saw the call log I just dreamt about that too.
And the funny thing is its not the first times this has happened. There are many if not countless days in which I was late from the office just because when I wake up in the morning to my mom’s voice “aaj office nahin jana…”(don’t you have to go to office today) long after my alarm clock has given up on me I guess moms are more persistent then the clocks… or my clock doesn’t love me as much as my mom. Anyways… I go to see the time and squeeze some more snooze time out of it. I don’t actually see my clock and just dream about seeing my clock and to my own convenience see it ticking at 7:30 or sometimes 8 and go to sleep again in the dream thinking I still have some time. But that doesn’t last for very long because I hear the second warning from my mom pretty soon and a much louder one “9 baj gaay hain… jana nahin…”(its 9… don’t you want to go…). Only then I realize I don’t have the luxury to shave anymore and I might have to skip the morning tea too…
There are many other events like that which frankly I don’t even remember right now.
So do you agree with me now…I am a dream architect right…what else would you call it. I don’t know why but I thought I should share my weird “super power” with you…It might not be that weird after all . Sometimes I wish I had this “super power” to control the reality too…wouldn’t that be something.

Too damn technical for my own good

Last night around mid night I was staring at my laptop and I was staring hard. My laptop screen was showing me an alleged portrait of a girl painted by Picasso(yeah it is not just the name of ballpoint pen) which was "supposed" to show Picasso's insane passion and love he felt for the "girl" in the painting. And here I was thinking what on earth is this... from where it looks anything like what is being said or even a girl for that matter. To me it looked like an armature's painting about some sort of a weird tree gone wrong with a bunch of blobs of paint splashed across the canvas to hide his mistakes. I was completely shocked that I couldn’t even see which was right in front of me and so easy for other people to see.

But even though I was not able to see and appreciate the true beauty of the painting I just knew that there was something in there which I could feel. Something so beautiful, so raw, so pure and so perfect... it was like if I had lost my sense of touch but I could still feel the loving touch of my Ammi(Mother) when she runs her hand over my head or lost my sight but I could still feel how sun set on green valley filled with snow would look like. I felt like at some point in my life I was able to see but not anymore just the fading images. I think years of studying the numbers and the logics and the algorithms and training my self to think more and more like machines has rendered me esthetical blind to see the real beauties in art. I am sure most of my "Technical" friends would agree with me that we tend to see the world in binary and see only 10(for the non-technical people 10 is the binary for 2) shades of gray, black and white. For us the "Technical" people there is an else for every if but I realized there are many but's, might be's, sort of's and hope so's in between the plain and simple true and false in our lives too.

I hope there isn't any thing else which too I am missing out on... and someday I will get back the sense which I have lost on the way to becoming the technical guy… :).

Just the right amount of crazy… Its perfect

Don’t get me wrong but I think every one of you reading this is crazy… I am counting my self in too. Some are crazy for money, some are crazy for a job, some are crazy for gadgets( the iPhones and the androids and the PlayStations and the Xboxes )  some are crazy for the cars( the Lamborghinis and the BMWs and the Audis)  and some of you might be crazy for a someone too . So I think everyone is crazy at least about one thing in there their life from mildly liking something or someone to being a psychotic serial killer. You might find it rather controversial but my definition of being crazy is wanting something without a reason. That’s confusing I know… let me explain.
Remember the time when you are a little kid and you want some toy or a new pencil box or a new spider man backpack or just want a day off from school because today’s math test is too hard and your parents won’t let you have it. You start inventing excuses and reasons why you need it so much and your life can’t go on an inch without it. You say “look Maa my friend Asad has a red truck with the blue lights… Maa please I need it too”, “Maa I have found some of my old color pencils and they don’t fit in my old pencil box and it also too dirty and old… Maa please I need a new pencil box… can I have that pink one with the Barbie on it”, “Dad I am feeling so sick… aaaahh… my stomach hurts… I might throw up…. can I have a day off”. And I can go on and on but I think you have got my point. We invent all these baseless even sometimes absurd reasons just to make others believe why we need the things we need. I think even when we grow up we stop doing this to others but we still do this to our selves and that is what I think is the craziness. You don’t know your self why you want the thing you are crazy about so you make up excuses to your self for wanting the thing you want.
The only point I am trying to make here is that its ok if you are crazy about something .I think being crazy is normal. It is the amount of crazy that counts you need just the right amount of crazy to be perfect. If you are not crazy about anything in your life than you are not passionate about anything in your life which I think is kind of boring. But you also don’t want to be too crazy about something which a lot of people think is well… crazy and when a lot of people think you are crazy you are in trouble. So I say be crazy but just the right amount .

Bunch of Snowballs Rolling Down a Snowy Slope

It started off as a thought that whether we can change our selves or not which I think we can’t. We can learn new things sure, try to hide ourselves from others fine but I don’t think we can really change change our selves. We would always be the same inside. That’s how I reached to the conclusion that we are all just a bunch of snowballs rolling down a snowy slope.

Think about it we start of as tiny bit of rock and mud. We get a kick from some bigger snowballs already rolling on the slope, and we start rolling beside them pilling up the snow of our lives around us. This tiny bit of rock and mud are the qualities God has chosen for us which makes two humans rolling on the same slope two completely different persons. By the way this tiny bit of rock and mud I think is the reason why we wont be able to build an artificial human robots but that’s a whole other story which I would love to talk about some other time.

Ok where were we… oh yes we were snowballs and we were rolling on a snowy slope with our parent snowballs. Ridding this snowy slide the snow of experience we gather becomes a part of ourselves and we become this big giant snowball and we can’t just ignore this huge pile of snow and start being someone else. If you are a one trying to change your self or trying to be someone else just stop. I can give you a better alternative while rolling down this snowy slope you can not stop the rolling down part but you can always steer yourself and try to get to the slope you want to be in and start adding on to yourself the snow you like to have on. That way you can add some good to yourself but still that huge pile of snow would still be there and its not going any where. So I guess its better to face the snow hell!!! own the snow and try to add as much good snow as you can.

Along the ride we also meet new snowballs some of them become our buddies we hang out with them share the same slides and snags. We catch some of there snow and when this bond becomes stronger and stronger we tend to merge with our buddy snowball. some call it love others call it soul mates I would call this a S-S bond. Hey I am not a chemistry geek and this not the bond you think it is… It’s a Snowy-Snugly Bond about which I will talk more about but some other time.

I guess the whole point of my snowy extravaganza is that it’s a fun ride enjoy it as much as you can. Of course the ride will not always be snowy and fun there will be rough patches there will be rocky mountains on the way and you will also get burns and bruises. you can try to steer you way clear as much as can and else is just the part of the slope and it will be over soon. So just get as much snow as you can and as good snow as you can and be this big huge ball of snow to make your marks on this slope as deep as you can and don’t try to ignore the snow it’ll be there whether you like it or not.

Coder/Novelist

Hi all,

After reading the title some of you would say “what!!! a coder/novelist… what does a coder has to do with a novelist or with art for that matter!!! ” But I will tell you how a  Coder is just like an artist a novelist at least I think so... . His every piece of code is just like a novel or some times a short story :) . Although in this case the reader would not be a person most of the time but there is some kind of esthetics involved in coding a program as well.

First he creates an idea then he designs a plot of his program before writing it down. Now comes the writing… the pattern of writing a code is pretty much same as of a novel he starts by introducing you with his characters, telling you about there attributes, qualities and abilities, some times he may even just give you his name and you have to read the whole novel to know who the hell is he or why… and trust me that can be very  teasing some times and even it can make you want to kill your self or the writer :) I prefer the writer.

Then our story starts… When you are reading a novel or a code your feelings are quite the same. Some times you get every thing what writer wants to say and other times you have no idea what is going on here :). Some times you would appreciate the writer of his logic/esthetics and some times you would say “even I could do better than that !!! what was he thinking”.

Then comes the climax. The funny thing about the climax of a code is that it has both endings the happy ending when code executes successfully or the sad one. It all depends on the reader… In this way codes are better then novels :).