A Blog- nay a Religion founded by Siddhesh Govind Kabe because no one told him to shut up.
Siddhesh Govind Kabe is a storyteller and globetrotter. When his plan to become a mad scientist did not work out, he chose the next best thing- writing stories. He writes thrillers and fantasy stories in different mediums. Born in the cultural city of Pune, Maharashtra he currently is on a literary pilgrimage to London with his wife Deepika. He is an Engineer by accident but compensates for that by writing satire and stories. His daily job includes a lunch-box, a computer, and other unimportant things.
When not writing, he is often seen cycling in the hunt for good coffee or having a pointless argument with random people on varied subjects. He can be reached on twitter @_siddhesh or Facebook http://fb.com/siddhesh.k
A bug is a computer anomaly that is generated usually because of developer’s ignorance or environmental factors. The former is more prominent in computer programs. The term debugging means to find the cause for the bug and fixing it. The term debugging has a humorous origin. In 1947, Grace Murray Hopper was working on the Harvard University Mark II Aiken Relay Calculator. On the 9th of September, 1947, when the machine was experiencing problems, an investigation showed that there was a moth trapped between the points of Relay #70, in Panel F. The operators removed the moth and affixed it to the log. The word went out that they had "debugged" the machine and the term "debugging a computer program" was born. As the technology progresses it advances towards perfection and minimizes its flaws, unfortunately, this was not true for computers. The bugs and errors increased exponentially with the advancement of computers. What earlier was a mere moth trapped i
He walked the old dusty road again after so many years. He remembered the place very well, so many memories etched into his mind. The old forgotten dusty lane, which was never urbanized by any political agenda. The same old little house which stood the test of time for so many years. He remembered his last walk on this road. He was trying to prevent the flood flowing from his nose and running his sore bumps with his free hand. He knew this return was uncalled for, unexpected but it was the one he had to make. He did not know how she would react, would she still be happy on seeing him or will she even recognize him? The crumbled paper clutched in his hand was his identity for so many years. It was a his ticket to existence, his own. The bell was in his reach now, he was a few seconds away in uncovering the truth. If he wanted to turn back, this was the last threshold. Funny thing was, even after so many days, his hand shivered at this stage. Would he face her? Face
Funny thing, I just realized I never wrote a funny short story, which was quite surprising as Story is what I like writing and humor is what I do best (atleast I think so), but for some reason I do not write a short story with a fun thing and I wanted to know why, I realized writing humorous stories is a challenge that even I cannot take. Well, below is not some of my best work, I tried to stay focused but apparently couldn’t. No characters in this story are real, any resemblances to real characters is coincidental, I just put some Blogger friends names so I might get inspired but well… you tell me how it is. Sreya was driving all the way to her friends house. As always Shruti was in trouble. ‘He has left again, Sreya,’ said Shruti between sob, ‘it was so obvious since beginning, he as just messing around. Its over girl, its over. I have nothing else to do now.’