Zero Defect: An autobiography of a software engineer

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Zero Defect: An autobiography of a software engineer Page 6

by Aarohan Atwal


  I got up and I waited till everyone sat down, then I looked for an empty spot, there were still plenty, my mind was confused I didn't want to sit on one already occupied. I was still mulling over my dilemma when a guy barged in, apparently he was from Training. He pointed at me and asked "why are you standing?" I told him that it was my first day and I had not been allocated a place. He opened an excel in his laptop, what was your name again he asked me. Then he scanned the sheet for my name and replied K37. "K37" I shouted. A girl raised her hand, a hand among the heads.

  A minute later I was at the desk, I was somewhat surprised to know something I didn't notice so far, we shared the same computer. She introduced herself as Neeta.

  Lunch with Ishika

  For the lunch I went by myself, the canteen was overflowing, people like flies were swarming all over. The floor was so huge that it could host a football game; tables and chairs were arranged in a neat grid and in a far corner food was being served.

  I bought a meal for myself and started looking for an available table, it was as difficult as finding a speck of gold in a californian dirt mine hundred years after the gold rush.

  I saw an outline with its head bent over a table, eating alone, lost in thoughts. In an instant I knew who it was, she was the girl I met at the gate the other day. I took a deep breath, pepped talk myself - ‘Be Confident’ - and took my plate and went over to her table. Without asking I took the chair opposite to hers. She raised her head to see, then tucked her hair under her ear and smiled.

  There was little you could deduct about her from a distance, her appearance reeked simplicity. She was wearing a cotton salwar – a cool mix of white and turquoise colors, with a dupatta poisedly placed over her shoulders. The white in her dress was glistening as bright as the glow emanating from her face, she was wearing no make-up I could tell. The lips looked pale but were immaculately smooth which was surprising given the hot sultry weather outside. Her neck was bare, no jewelries and so did her fingers or hands, no rings, no stupid bands and bangles. If I could put everything together in one statement I’d say, she was truly beautiful minus the show-off.

  "Eating alone?" I asked, it was a stupid question but I was nervous, I needed an incebreaker and this was all I could come up with.

  She squinted her eyes, I felt terrified of her gaze, that awkward moment in which she tried to judge me. “Hi, I remember you” She bounced back quicky. “Thanks for the help the other day.”

  "How's your first day coming along?" I asked her.

  "Well, it’s kind of not what I expected." "They are making us fill all kind of documents"

  “Tell me about it” I said smiling, I knew the whole drill having already experienced it once myself. One wise communist once said - that paperwork is the new tool of capitalists, what they couldn’t do with their empty promises they did by entrapping the commoner under the weight of legalities.

  "How about you? Doing the same thing?" She said.

  “Oh me? My batch has already started” I replied. She gave me a surprised look, she needed an explanation. I told her the long story which I didn’t want to tell initially because then I had to tell her everything specially the embarrassing – I-turned-into-a-little-yellow-alien part. It wasn’t that I couldn’t resist her inquisitive self but it was that I wanted to talk, she somehow made me feel all bit talkative, and so I spoke and spoke in great length.

  In the end when I was done and fully exhausted she blinked and asked me a weird question, something that I couldn’t comprehend, "You really don’t remember me?”

  I looked at her dumbfounded, her eyes were glinting. She answered her own question,

  "You don't!"

  I was confused, what in the name of God she was talking about? Did I know her from somewhere?

  My mind raced through the jungles of amazon and ever shifting dunes of sahara and the depths of pacific and the barrenness of ... of poles, and my mind it just, it just went on, it whirled and whirled all around the world where I could possibly place her or place her with me, no she was not famous that I should know her, nor it was that we could have met. Maybe I glanced her in the crowds of the Mumbai local or the Delhi metro or crossed her on the Hawrah Bridge or bumped into her in the bustling streets of Chennai, or we maybe we were just figments in somebody’s dream.

  Who was she? How did I know her? The questions just keep on pounding and pounding like an elephant banging against a super strong JK wall, with neither of the two willing to let go. I was silent for what seemed like a long long time.

  The conversation drifted around we talked about few things and she asked me,

  “What do you like to do in free time?”

  I told her about my obsession about writing, even though in my entire lifetime I had written only a short story, it was a story about a guy who goes around boasting how passionate he was about writing, even though he had written only one short story in his entire life time. The story was a about time traveler who kills his past self accidently, but instead of disappearing by virtue of grandfather paradox, he survives and becomes an anomaly, an anomaly in time. He could float through timelines, pasts and futures, he could go to the beginning of time and see universe being born out of singularity, he could go to the end of the time and experience as the universe collapses back into the singularity.

  Her eyes were lit with a fire of curiosity, “Can I see it sometime?” She said.

  “Sure, and I have one more that I am working on”

  “Tell me all about it” She said.

  “It’s nothing, even weirder than the first one” I replied.

  “Story” I murmured, indeed I was looking for a story, a perfect one, something that’d capture the spirit of life, a tragedy, and a passionate love.

  “I wrote a story about a ten year boy who slays an evil fire breathing dragon, but the story doesn’t end here, it only opens a door to an endless battle between good and evil”

  “What happens then?” She asked curiously.

  “Then, after many years, the child of the dragon kills the boy”

  “That’s awful” she was genuinely shocked.

  “The story is not over yet, and then the son of the boy grows up and kills the dragon’s child” “You see where I am getting?”

  “Looks to me an infinite loop” She giggled, “syntactical”, she corrects herself, “no, logic error”. We both let out a light laugh.

  Where did I hear that laughter before?

  “Hi Ashutosh” She said to the guy standing with the lunch in his hands, he was obviously looking for a place to sit. He was a short guy wearing a pale blue shirt and khaki trouser. I got up and excused myself, “I have to run, class in ten”

  I added her on the communicator and waited for her approval. After I came back from Advance Database class, I saw her online. I opened the chat window placed my fingers on the keyboard, and then I thought about it, what should I write, how should I open; and then a thought crossed my mind – why was I thinking so much, why was I feeling that nervous tingling energy running through my spine.

  #

  Days went on and we got entangled in the training, I completely forgot about Ishika until the day... she pinged me on the communicator. She was in trouble she said and needed my urgent help. I promised to help without actually asking what ailed her. What a stupidity it was, if I had known what she’d ask me to do I would have refused her right then.

  She called me in the board room on the third floor, I skipped the Oracle class to see her. Boy, I was excited, and kinda nervous too. I wondered what she demanded of me, it was definitely secluded part of the company, was she in some kind of trouble? Or did she want to get into some kind of trouble? My day dream was broken when I saw Arnav already there. I knocked on the door three times with my knuckles; he opened the door for me and then bolted it again.

  She was looking quite ravishing in the combination of green salwar, white kameez and saffron dupatta and it took me a bit to understand what it meant – Tiranga!


  “Get dressed” She declared throwing me a set of kurta payjama. It was something new to me I had never worn cloths like these before. It was a set of golden brown kurta and light yellow payjama. I went to the washroom and changed, I couldn’t recognize the person I saw in the mirror.

  “Look at you” She said whistling. I was little embarrassed by her rodeo comments. “Ghodi chadney key liye tayar”

  “Alright, alright” I said. “I look stupid, so don’t embarrass me any further”

  “Thank you for doing this, means a lot” “We were couple of guys short, and needed a replacement urgently, you two saved us“

  I was pretty sure, the other guy was trapped like me too.

  “What’s going on? “ I said, claiming innocence, “What do I have to do?”

  “We have to give a performance on this Independence Day”

  “Oh, my god” I mumbled, “What did I get myself into” So, it was a dance performance, and on top of that it was a group dance performance where we have to synchronize out movements while thousands of eyes peered at us, passing judgment.

  “I can’t do this, dancing is not my strongest of the suits”

  “You’ll be fine, we will do enough rehearsals”

  “Dancing is not the only thing, I get very nervous in front of people” “I don’t like the idea of people watching me doing some silly stuff”

  “Oh, you are not going to be the only one, we all will be sharing the stage, it’s a group performance. Please, please you have to say yes.”

  I looked at her and I thought if I wanna blew up the only chance with her.

  “Where do I sign up?” I said enthusiastically.

  She smiled and replied, “I will breeze you through the routine”

  I started trying to match her steps awkwardly, my body couldn’t co-ordinate. Harder I tried, faster I failed. “No, not like this” She took my hands in hers, her hands were very cold. I felt a surge run through my body. It was a feeling I never had before. I let my hands loose while she showed me how to move them. She moved with a perfect grace, with her hands and legs and whole body in one tandem motion.

  #

  Independence Day came, and the whole sitting area was filled upto the brim. We were backstage waiting for our turn. Some awards were being announced, chief guest was a reputed local IAS officer who had earned a name for himself in the honesty circle. A few minutes later we were on the stage and I looked ahead at the audience. They were waiting for the performance of the day. I froze then and there, I could hardly breathe. Ishika looked at me and winced, “You’ll be fine”. We were to perform for about four minutes but those minutes seemed like four hours.

  I was not convinced. My legs were shaking. My only hope was that audience would think it was a part of the performance. The time flew, I had forgotten all the moves and two days of practice was gone down the drain. I fumbled to follow others throwing the whole performance out of sequence. I consoled myself - maybe they would think this was some kind of parody act.

  The last routine was to run forward with the flag held over our heads. We grouped ourselves into two parallel lines; I was in the front of one of the line, while Ishika was in front of the other. There was a slight miscalculation, it was no one’s fault in particular but a collective responsibility. We were standing at the back of the stage and we were supposed to run f0rward waving the flag high. I didn’t see it, Ishika knew and she signaled me with her eyes. I couldn’t read what she meant. It was dark and I was so engrossed in the whole act, that I overran the stage, I should have counted my steps – this was the plan. So, I had a free fall and I landed right on one of the honest dignitaries of the function. It was hilarious, but for everyone else.

  Ishika didn’t speak to me afterwards, I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t give anyone a chance to catch-up with me, I slipped away discreetly and locked myself in the room.

  I sobbed and sobbed and very soon ran out of the tissues, the tears didn’t stop, the room started to flood. I was drowning in my own sorrow. I couldn’t breather anymore, the salty water filled my lungs. I was floating over my body, I saw my body going still. It didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt any more.

  That First Date

  For the extra long weekend of the October first week Ishika, Arnav and I were left alone, without plans. We for our own reasons were not traveling back to our home. For me, it was quite far and involved back breaking traveling - Mysore to B'lore, B'lore to Delhi, and from there 7-8 hrs bus journey to Haldwani, it was surely not worth it. Then there was Arnav who didn't want to go because I was staying and he thought without any friends he would get dead bored at home. As good as his loyalty was toward our friendship, the problem was, I actually wanted him to go as I was hoping for some lone time with Ishika, but well that didn't happen. That’s why friends are there for, to screw you up.

  For couple of days we fooled around the campus, we took the dip in the pool, did bowling to our heart's content, and tried our hands in tennis – there was practically no one out there – it was as if we were running around in a ghost town. Since there was hardly anyone around we were free to hang around wherever we wanted. It felt like we were in some kind of holocaust where there are heaps and heaps of abandoned buildings. I admit it had always been my fantasy to move around and explore the abandoned structures, they had certain kind of draw that secretly appealed to my subconscious. I even dreamt sometime that I was in a post apocalyptic world where all the humanity had been wiped out due to a deadly virus or something; and I am moving through cities, cities with no life but only smoke rising through chimneys of the dead households. I see myself picking up stuff from un-operated stores, filling up gas in my car without watching the meter, barging into the empty buildings and just sitting and waiting…

  Don’t you wonder how closed our society has become that we have come to the point where we have to imagine it’s destruction in order to unshackle ourselves from the chains that holds us back? Can’t we just be what we are, and do what we want to? Is it that easy or is it too hard to accomplish? Why have we constrained ourselves? Why have we erected those invisible fences, from which neither can we cross to the other side nor can anyone come to this side?

  We three were seated in the food court where there were no queues, when Ishika said, "I feel kind of bored, there is no one to talk to and nothing to work on"

  "I too kind of liked it more when people were around" Arnav replied. I nodded without sharing how I actually felt about it all.

  "There's still whole damn week left" "What do we do?" Arnav said. "You know what let's go somewhere for a trip" Ishika suggested. “A surprise trip” We looked at each other.

  "Kerala" The first word that came to my mind, I suggested.

  "Kerala?" Arnav asked jumping back.

  "Cochi is an amazing place I have heard, culturally and visually rich" "And there are beautiful scenic beaches too"

  "Ha ha, Kerala" Arnav laughed. "Are you out of your mind" He said.

  "No, I am not" I said with a serious tone.

  "I know there's a direct train to there"

  "And how do you know that?"

  "Karthik told me, he went to Trivandrum from here" I pause, "So, I say we pack the bag tonight" "And hit the train tomorrow"

  "What about reservations?" Ishika asked.

  “What? You too are listening to his blabber” Arnav said.

  I thought for a moment and replied, "We'll figure that out at the station?" "What do you guys say?" I asked smilingly.

  "You know… you sound absolutely crazy" "but I donno why I too wanna do this" "I liked it when you say we will figure it out"

  "Pack light! Just one sack" Arnav suggested.

  We went back to our room and I stuffed in bag with only what I thought was absolutely essential - contact lens with solution, two pair of undergarments, toothbrush, and paper soaps and so on.

  So at five in the morning we met, with our bags on our backs we were looking like typical tourists. We caught an auto an
d went straight to the station, fortunately or unfortunately we reached just ten minutes before the departure of Mangrove express, the queue to get the ticket was quite long so I asked Ishika if she could use her lady charms to get us one, she refused on the moral ground. She said it wouldn't be an appropriate thing to do. I told her that if she didn't do it we had to go back to the campus, did she want it?

  She shook her head and went straight to the guy who was standing at the second position, it was some forty something uncle and I was not sure he would fall for her, but he did. In just five minutes we three had the general class ticket, journey was long, and we had no idea how we were to do such an arduous travel on a general ticket. So, I came with a suggestion I suggested that we'd get in the AC class and sit there, she would probably get a seat and we too had a possibility if we enacted a poor-and-miserable-college-student act and played the empathy card properly. Both of them liked my idea, at least they saw an opportunity to find a place, back there in general we had no chance. So, we boarded in to the AC, just a minute before the trained honked and the TT showed the green flag. Slowly it started to sink in, we were going to Kerala, God's own country and God only know what will happen.

 

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