There are certain moments in one's life when he feels that he is just standing on the sidelines, watching life as it rushes past him. He can only see the trail of smoke that's left behind. He tries to take control, the struggle becomes fierce but what he doesn't realise is that the more he struggles, the more he is losing control. As a software developer, my life is also rushing past me and when I look back, I see many faces in the smoke; some I recognize, some I don't. I can see the events of my life unfolding before me, like a movie, but a particular scene stands out in the complete reel of my life - the Hindu-Muslim riots. The year was 1992. I was just eight years old then. I was living in Sitamarhi, a small sleepy town in Bihar which shared its border with Nepal. In an era of no Google Maps, you would have a hard time locating it in on the map of India. The border was completely porous. Goods were (and are) easily smuggled across - the cheap chinese ones, ranging
Musings on life and software development