animesh kumar

Running water never grows stale. Keep flowing!

A programmed Philosophy

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A programmer is a playwright – he writes to create, to define and to shape the course of the play to be staged upon the lousy computer. Like Shakespeare’s protagonist, who cavorts over the confusion of ‘to be or not to be!’ he bobs, up and down, for his variables ‘to exist or to perish’. He never stops, never falls prey to namby-pamby attraction, never ceased to venture further, and never ceased to tackle another. He embodies the ONE – the only one rather. He creates variables, bestows them with power, defines logic and curtails their behaviour, collects the garbage and recycles the harbour. He stands by the lost, renews their stint and hence behaves like a father. He allows a nature-like existence of the tiny electronic memory, shaping it to pasture at one moment while translating it into woods at the next.

Variables beget variables; processes generate processes as the journey commenced. Wrangle crept in, peace ceased out. Brouhaha of the rat-race capturing all available aural frequencies; un-comfort growing up; the stage sweating high, BUT he is refrained out. Out the game! Out of the action!

He sits amid the cacophony, indifferent, unattached and unmoved, like a quiet spectator – silently observing the course, mapping it bit-by-bit with the pre-decided one, comparing it minute-by-minute with the pre-formatted one; jotting down mis-behaviours of the stage, mal-functions of the variables and faults committed by himself.

Welcome to the matrix!

This is his world. Call it a program, call it a collection of bits, call it a hierarchy of electronical relation, call it a kind of camaraderie emotion, OR call it a matrix; assume it – either real or virtual, deny it – neither amateur nor practical. Do whatever you feel, feel whatever, to you, is of appeal. He would hardly be affected. Such a person he is!

But why is he so indifferent, so stringent, so haggard, and so callous? Is this his own lineament, or has he imbibed it from someone? OR, has he developed it on his own as consequences of poignant experiences? Does he, really, not care emotions? Does he, really, not live relations?

Relations are cohesive forces that work partly upon understanding and largely upon commerce. It is a bond that ideals upon completion, but practices upon extortion.

He lives in the world – supposedly perfect, with all his imperfection. He confronts emotions, he combats relations. He understands the trap, the predicament. And above all, he realizes his own inability to brave the cage. He, being the variable of universe, has seen, has monitored, all through his life, his own course, his own itinerary, his own actions, his own responses – often set against his consent. He has witnessed tough runs, difficult turns, rough lawns that would not have been so gruesome, only if, he had denied the force. But, how could he? He was not ordered such! He was not supposed to behave such!

He, like any other entity around, followed his ordeal, uttered his dialogues, lived his act, and behaved like another puppet. He fell into love, and felt bliss. He fell into relations, and felt delight. He fell into denial, and felt distrait. He harboured grievances, felt jealous and behaved sordid; he carried love, felt sublime and behaved concerned. His entire act, I mean entire, was pre-written. There was nothing for him to consent upon, nothing to dissent upon. This, the TRUTH has been understood by him in every possible way. Shakespeare had explained this truth as; “All the world is a stage, And all the men and women merely players!”

A programmer, or say Software engineer – a professional tag he carries, is a result of human evolution, backed by technology, abandoned by vociferation, that bestowed him with a critical ability to criticize, to analyze and to appreciate everything laid in and around him.

The world we live in is programmed and weaved so logically and so intricately that it appears evasive to most. This vagueness encrypts the message and the purpose of the finality. Very similar to it, a computer program is designed to entail a logical decisiveness. The two accord in architecture and hierarchy, but differ in power and reality. The soul of the world is the ONE, while the soul of the program is the programmer.

He, with his critical and probing vision, has succeeded in deciphering the purpose, the message – steganographed into the worldly bounds. And, hence understood the truth! Lot many people – before him – had tried to dissent their understanding over the same through oral and verbal means. They wrote text that became holy book; they spoke phones that became holy speech; they prescribed conduct that entailed into religion. Though, they might have known the fact, they might have learnt the truth, but it was only theory that they conveyed, it was only fantasy that they preached. The theory of unattached living; the fantasy of unmoved acting!

Be on the stage, act on the script
Cherish your being, relish your acting
Never high of possession, never low of succession,
For no cremation can cremate you further,
No begetting can reincarnate you another.
You are a mortal part of the immortal soul.
Your being is the proof of his being!
Your acting is an alibi of his writing!

Their less attained veracity succeeded upon people, time after time, generations after generation. The belief, that everything is understood, sustained – if not consolidated, but actions, that might have lead theory into practical, remained denied, inert and inactive. Words, only words, flew over time, seeking active intervention, scouring divine sanctification, until a programmer came and set a real – not virtual, and a practical – not theoretical, epitome of the essence that those words were trying to diffuse since long. Theorist may take consolation of being the maiden decipherer; BUT it is a programmer who not only decoded but enacted too and hence set an example to his fellow-beings.

His life, at the core is very simple. So simple that at first hardly would anyone find him interesting! There is a cycle, a continuous cycle, in the life of his. His day, commenced with a Boolean, ends up on a Boolean. Either true or false! Either if or else! It’s the program of his itinerary that shapes his codes, and sometimes the other way round. It’s the structure of his hierarchy that shapes his response, and sometimes the other way round. The metaphor predates upon both, the man and the machine! Man running the machine, Machine feeding the man. They have intrigued into each-other, learnt to exist together, and now harbouring the soul of survivor.

The lower is size of codes; the lower is the number of layers in it. Similarly, the poorer is the man; the lesser is his hierarchy, the lesser is his intricacy. His day starts with a command, ends up with a command. He works hard; using maximum resources of him, getting every bit of him fully exhausted; and finally gets terminated with a command. This is the cycle he follows – well defined, well argued, well patterned, and well established, like a small program.

Amid of his hectic and tightly scheduled life, how does he get time enough to contemplate over the philosophy, adequate to deliberate over the cogency? And If he is so great, then, why is he lost in the canopy? If he is so quirky, why is he still trapped?

He is a man of action. What he believes is what he does. He exemplifies the flawless world – that could not be realized; the perfect human behaviour – that is still veiled behind dark. But, beneath all prophecy, does he really exist? I mean, the person, a kind of a programmer we are talking about, really roams earth?

Well…, I am among those who belong to that, once rare ilk – because today every next person calls himself a programmer. Yes! I satisfy every characteristic, every aspect of his. I am vague, abstract and un-crafted; yet sometimes simple, straight and candid like learners’ “Hello World!” program. Both facets of mine cohabit together to sum up my life, each fighting for its share, each trying to dominate the other.

I am a social animal, not because I live in a society or I enjoy my routine life, but because I appreciate the flaws in and around me. “Ignorance may be bliss, but information is knowledge.” I don’t believe such! Everything has bliss! All it depends upon is the onlookers’ eyes. The ideology of being a programmer, however, has never touched me; I feel bliss in all my activity – when I muster things or when I shun things. Though, less often, I feel like identifying myself with my work, I do feel that what I am doing is something of greater concern. For example; I am challenging the imperfection of God’s world by writing programs, and hence creating a world within the world, that would be free from any mal-functionalities. Isn’t it a novel cause to live for? I am re-programming the age-old philosophy to launch its updated version. Isn’t it a novel cause to live for?

Today, with the advent of internet and other technologies that has its reach deep into people’s life, has there any novelty left in his life OR has he become a puppet of another puppet? World of internet is vague and virtual according to all possible definitions of reality. It has neither time nor space boundary! You own a space that doesn’t exist at all. You travel at a speed that exceeds all the limits set by classical or quantum physics. Wondering…! Well, this is a world within the world. But, the perfection – a commodity, once the most sought after thing in the programming world – is lost. This has come closer to the real world, it has left all its pristine traits, and it has shunned the hard-work and toil somewhere on its way.

Today’s programmer is no more the old one. He has become a social insect like everyone around. He works hard, very hard – but doesn’t know the purpose; he fights the opposition – but doesn’t know its finality; he exists – but doesn’t know what for? He is, now, just a next door commoner – aimless and senseless. All Sundays are now weekdays; all people are now variables; all events are now interrupts. Sermons are hypocritical now. Variables have started imbibing human traits; compilers have started behaving non-sense.

His world would rout… soon! His world would merge the soil… soon!
But, he has no ear to it. It’s nothing but an unwanted interrupt to him. Knock! Knock! Is any programmer alive there!

Written by Animesh

March 23, 2006 at 5:31 am

Posted in Diary

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