Day of a 24’

Day of a 24’

source: internet

“Ok! That’s fine, just one more warning to solve, looks like I finally finished this freaking project.”

Half-past eight and I anyhow had to show my half-asleep, half toxic and half-drunken face to my boss in an hour.

And please don’t ask me about the speed of “Pokhara Nagar Bus”. When a normal user is getting 40 Mbps of internet, the local bus makes us travel with a speed of 256 Kbps. Being a computer-guy, speed matters to me most. Every day I feel like I need to buy a vehicle myself.

Me, always in a dilemma either to seek another job in the capital or reside here congesting myself to these limited opportunities. Only that aspires me to work here is the payment, a satisfactory one, that I cannot get elsewhere for what I am. But what if I could get, no comparisons are done yet, I am too busy to where I am going.

“Holy cow! Only 30 more minutes, wasted half an hour to look like I am ready for work, which I am actually never. Just the same working function on loop, no escape back-route function declared or called.”

“Bibek! I need to talk to you. The client is not happy with your last design.”


No use of saying, That was their own chosen design, The client themselves doesn’t know what they want.

“What I need to do now, then?”

“Do what they might like and no more complain after this. I want it to be final within a couple of days, we running out of dates.”

“And the project I am currently working on?”

“You have never been to the office on time and these extra excuses. I am not paying you as a senior developer for such things.”

“Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot that. keep yourself your senior tag.” I wish I said it right in his face. When you work with all the interns all around who working without payment, no pride in saying I am senior here.

How can someone think of running a company full of interns?

“Whatsoever, I will never do these kinds of unethical things, whenever I have my own start-up. Just a year more, I gonna spit on his face and move on.”

I never gonna slave someone for sake of few extra grand.

“A coffee and a cigarette.”

“And khana, shall I make it ready by now.”

“I will be here in an hour to eat.”

An infirm lifestyle in an apartment, a dimension of 4 by 4, a bed, a table, junk of wires, a chair full of to be washed clothes and a stove which I particularly don’t get time to lit up. More to it, an ashtray and bottles of hard liquors, my desert for the day.

“Hey Saurav, can you do the validation check to this?”

“I don’t know yet brother, I am learning, can you teach me how to do that?”

“Heck no! I was expecting the same, so I started doing it myself.”

Saurav, one of the interns who joined the office a week ago. His CV was full of expertise in half-dozens programming languages. No hard complaints on his CV, That’s what everyone does. “The classical Hello World output == knowledge of programming language”. He doing what everyone tries to show-off in the early days.

Inside the cubicle, the memes on Instagram and facebook look so relatable. The errors and the debugging jokes, StackOverflow and GitHub realities, and Reddit inspirations, hit me real hard.

One thing, I really care about when working on any project is privacy and security issues, I am never actually a security researcher or a pentester but I need to learn it over time.

My frustration over the work, my working ethics don’t let me release it over the normal users. The un-healthy working mechanism of the IT field in Nepal is itself a bug, it needs to be debugged first for better productivity.

“Ok! That’s fine, just one more warning to solve, looks like I finally finished this freaking project.”

Let me compile and wrap up my working directory.

bibek@BIbek:~ cd Documents/projects/deadline-December bibek@BIbek~ /Documents/projects/deadline-December g++ main.cpp -o main Segmentation fault (core dumped)

Again, same shit, the pointer issue, I absolutely hate it. One of the issues I wish never to encounter. I don’t know how many hours I am going to waste debugging this one. I am already due late to my deadlines.

“Hey! Just returned home? How was the day?”

When hours of continuous work followed by another hour of bus mess with body and mind both in a dead situation and in no mere condition to deal with further stress, these acts keep the heart kinda ‘alive’.

She was the only one who knows me and the hell I am going through. For family, I cant take a risk of quitting the job, they are proud to call their son working as a software engineer with four 0s salary.

We talk till midnight like there’s nothing more to think of. All my frustrations evaporate like a steam, a cloudy day gets the sunlight and every bit of sunlight strikes me with elegance, the sight of the moon makes me realize the world is joyful like the autumn is never coming and spring never dying.

The only part of my time when the semi-colon can be neglected in the chat lines, the only one who has no date issues, the perfect global variable, she is my number[0] with no increment function set-up.

When I myself is an alien to my own world, black terminal, and the indentation errors, where nightmares and ghosts arose in the form of bugs. All I got, it’s her, the cup of my coffee, a compiler who fixes even the run-time errors and deploys all the awesomeness to frustrations.

Oxytocin, testosterone, caffeine, nicotine, and ethanol working together in my body. A perfect combo to relax my body and soul. I have been an addict to alcohol and nicotine which I never wanted to, but the peering and payloads made me been to.

“Bibek! You again late; And you need to switch to the old design you worked on last week. The client started liking the design again and the color is also beautiful.”

While (!dead) { work(); }