Ctrl Alt Delete

Life of a software developer is nothing but a constant battle with time and deadline; and so is mine. Trying to break the tenacious code even and bleeding after the program's output sometimes drives me jitters. Life has become a messed-up multithreaded program. All objects supporting it are gradually being garbage-collected by pre-scheduled daily routines. I have almost forgotten to express myself in pure English and 'Oops!' is the only interjection I prefer using.

I am not the only resident of this coded world; every other programmer is bound to be. We prefer weaving a code-web around ourselves...a matrix that encapsulates us and somewhat isolates us from rest of the world.

Coding manifests itself in many forms in our daily lives. We tend to name our triplets: Ctrl, Alt and Delete; our twins: Mac and Tosh; our daughters: GINA or SuSE. We like surfing anonymously to our girlfriend's den and are afraid of malicious programs called Wife, that spoofs our networks all day long to nullify polymorphism. Though some weakly-typed versions of Wife prove to be more like helper objects.

We are hated by none. One cannot hate us and risk an attack by viruses and trojans. We are not loved by anyone, either. Why? The learned reader is advised to explore this of her own.

We inadvertantly inherit the traits of senior programmers and tend to forget what we did an hour ago. Our main aim remains to tame the machine at hand by using a chunk of cryptic text which no one else but someone as dumb as a computer can only comprehend!