A tribute to Dennis Ritchie the 1.0 programmer

An era has gone silently by,
quietly and without any hue and cry
An era where a universe was born
as real as the green fields and real as the breaking dawn

The universe started slowly it then became a B
and then the architect of the universe made it so clear that we could C
we saw and we still C how robust and multi dimensioned that universe can be

The mad hatter would also be surprised to C
how seamlessly that universe blends into reality
C was the pioneer in programming languages, created by Dennis Ritchie
it is an abstract enitity, a nonliving thing which feeds you and me
and several hundred thousands in this century

the father of modern programming has gone on to see
another universe leaving behind his rich and compiling and running legacy
how would life be I wonder, for everybody
without the memory allocators, the classloaders, the servers and the boundless possibility
that we muggles harness from the brainwaves of the developer Dennis Ritchie..
In a world of expanding functionality, the king of the world was He

Holiday in Paradise

silence but for a beautiful song
on a calm river stretching ahead far and long
slight drizzle in the air
smell of roses and jasmines everywhere
mild sunlight filtering through a grey-white cloud
The boat silently moving forward splashing merrily away
a moderate breeze making its way through this beautiful day

When you can hear your heart beat loud and clear
and the quiet companionship of your near and dear
when you feel the tension seep away from your being
when you close you eyes and cannot dream a better dream

When you feel you have made a mark
when your mind rejoicing after leaving a tunnel behind, gloomy and dark
when you are one with the world around you
when you are contented with the tree of life you planted and grew
when you have the knowledge that the future will be
as beautiful as the scenery you see

Forests creeping alongside the river
being with people you know and love
thinking how happy you are makes you shiver
you know that the river must come to an end
all journeys tend to have that disturbing trend

But why lament about good things coming to an end
when there are better things hidden to be found at every river bend
the holiday must as always stop one day
but why worry when your mind can file the memories away