Vikas Singh

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Archive for the tag “technical love story”

A Geek’s Dream: Chapter_2 ;)

A Note :- Every character written in the story are purely fictitious. It has no resemblance or connection with any living or dead person.


“————–Chapter 2 : JOB: Just Obey (the) Boss—————“


You must had noticed that watch’s both hand move way too fast, if you had to rush somewhere, on-time!

In weekdays, it was always my office. “Reaching office on time” should be declared as an adventure sport as bungee jumping.

Adding to the exquisite flavor of the busy morning, Delhi’s traffic is always there to welcome you.It loves you so much that it doesn’t let you move more than 15-20 km/h speed. and the rate of getting cheesed-off by this, is directly proportional to the time you have to wait, to feel your engine roaring upon acceleration.

Unnecessarily honking irritates. Its never the same in foreign countries. Sensible people never use their horn, as a musical instrument. Here, it’s indeed a time-pass on the road.

God forbid I wrinkled my attire completely.


Naman was standing right beside his cabin. I saw him as I was entering into the office.He was already there, busy in flipping pages of some file.

We exchanged smile.

He, being a key position holder in the company and swiping-off big sum of money, always looked fabulous. Grey-colored suit from his personal Black Berry collection, Tissot T-Heritage on the wrist was soothing my eyes and his body too.

Aloha Ayan!“, he showed his affection, without moving-away the eyes from file.

“Good morning bro”,
“and Since when you started talking Hawaiian? “, ah! I love Google.

“Nothing, just heard it on the go.”, kneeled down before spontaneity.

He was looking afresh, after he completes his responsibility as a brother.

“Dude, I need to rush. I’ve to bell the cat”, I hi-five him. He winked.

Ah! Felt a sigh of relief, as I entered into the office 10 min before.

Ayesha joined me, as I walked to my cabin.

Now, there are some people, who like the work and their job pretty seriously, some doesn’t. Ayesha, my secretary, is the former one. She was no less than my genie in such hectic schedule.

She is chirpy yet laborious girl. She makes the environment light by her presence. Thanks to the Male-to-Female ratio policy of the company, which they have to maintain, we have sensible yet visibly-well-groomed staff.

Though officials haven’t put any restriction on the monotonous office-dress, she always chooses punjabi salwar-kamiz as her preferred attire. As she is a punjaban, it matches her vakhra persona.

“When is the meeting?”, I asked anxiously.

“Sir,It’s about to start in 15 min”, Ayesha replied.

“Ok”, “get me the file of the device, that has the problem “. The testing team found two bugs of integer overflow and SIGFPE. It may lead to Integer based attacks and unacceptable behavior in the running time simulation.

“here you go, Sir!”, She said, and handed over the file.


“Fellas! we’re not on the schedule”, “and I want a full descriptive report of what we’re up to?”, my oval shaped boss,T.A.P. Sriram, said, wiping off his sweaty forehead.

‘Are these the symptoms of heart-attack?”, a thought crashed into my mind at lightening speed. Jesus ! he was sweating in an AC room.

We all five people present in the room had sensed the level of concern in his voice and were tensed too.

Rahul Ranjan was the head of the User Interface Development of the product, the fifth guy.

My Boss, being a South Indian, was very calm by nature. But, when it comes to work, he was a serious mate.

“Well! we rectified the cause of problem “,” It’ll get Troubleshot ASAP”, I tried to make him calm.

As the meeting was over, I saw Sneha Awasthi, first time in the office, second time in the last three days.

Sometime, the only thing that turn on a guy in a woman, is the way, she carries herself.

She was looking extremely professional. Wearing formal , holding a file in her left hand, that was resting over her left waist. Black frame spectacles was enhancing her girly look. Her razor sharp eyes paid full attention to our boss. I would say, she was amphoteric.

“New recruit! “, every new recruited person works with full attention, in starting only.

The meeting was about timely solution of such problems and moreover the deadline discussion about the launch of a new product.


Naman knocked on the glass-door, showing me the time by tipping his finger on his watch and was saying,”It’s over!”, by sign language, like a deaf and dumb, standing outside the door.

I wrapped-up the cluttered files and headed towards the parking.
It’s time to go back home.


“Come, let me drive you home. I want to talk with you.”, He offered the drive.

“Cool !”, I said as I hopped-in his Honda Civic.

“tum aa gaye ho, nur aa gaya hai…”. After the tiring day, listening to the deadly duo of nightingale, a sobriquet, Lata Mangeshkar and the father of yodeling, Kishore Kumar, was much more than just sheer pleasure.

“Here you go again.Come-on Dude! Do you always listen to these sadly-romantic songs ?”.

Though I had no offence with Old songs but, it was him, who try to imitate yodeling of The
Kishore Da to tease me to the fullest by his chorus.
And I feel, he enjoys this sadistic pleasure.

“I love puraane gaane.”, He said it in the musical rhythm by stretching the sound.

“Old is Gold, my friend”, he preached!

I didn’t listen to him, as I was busy in my important work, ! It always aced in priorities.

If you don’t get time to update your Facebook status once in a day, then you reserve the right to say,”TODAY, I WORKED!”

As I was changing my status
from: “O’sum Weekend 🙂 :)”
to:”Bheja fry-3 Promotion in a car : my friend has awful singing capabilities 😦 😦 ”
he said something unexpected.

papi! how the hell you don’t have any idea about Sneha ?”, “she is in the office from past two weeks”, he asked.

“Dude, I don’t own a satellite and I ain’t no CIA agent.”, My love for the Hollywood movies inside me rippled as I fired back.

“ooh! Do you want one?”,”It’s under the backseat”, he chuckled. He was always this much unpredictable.

“Whoa! The king of Good times”, It’s one among the several A-listed things that boys love. Beer!

“hope, now you own one and it’s in your hand!”, he started whistling to the tune.

“definitely!”, I nodded. “I can give it to you too, on rent if you want !”. exaggerated.

Evening time, awesome music, Beer in hand! whole day’s tiredness flew away.

achcha to hum chalte h….Phir Kab Miloge… Jab Tum Kahoge… I hummed it as the song changed to another classic retro.

Vikas “Smrit” Singh.




A Geek’s Dream: Chapter_1 ;)

A Note :- Every character written in the story are purely fictitious. It has no resemblance or connection with any living or dead person.


“————–Chapter 1 :- @ Ananya’s Marriage—————“

It was not one of the normal Weekend. I had to attend one marriage of my friend-cum-colleague, Naman Rai’s sister, Ananya Rai.

We work in the ConBear Telecom pvt. ltd, Gurgaon, for 3 years as of now and became close friend during this span.

It was confusing to select the suitable attire for the marriage.After Shuffling and struggling with the clothes a lot, I ended up finalizing Black Tuxedo and get suited in.

Venue was Hotel Hilton and that was about half an hour far by car.I left at around 8:00 p.m.

one of my fav pic 😉

Looking through the SUV’s almost Z-Black glasses, I always amazed with the continuity and never dying spirit of this city, Delhi, had. It never stopped by any incident/event. What a spirit it always maintained. Hats-off! I still remember that day, when the News flashed on the Television, that Delhi was stunned by the continuous Bomb-blast in Sarojini Nagar Market, Paharganj and Govindpuri in Oct,2005. Lots of people died. But, just after two days, spirit of Delhi was back, and Life was normal, again. But not for those, who lost their dear ones.

But since then, Delhi had taken a whole new different look. Thanks to the Commonwealth games, who made this city a newly wedded bride and helped a lot of politician to became multi-millionaire. Politician were able to get their share from the “Common-Wealth”. Here my cordial wishes goes to the high rated corruption in India. Now, it’s like the salt of everyone’s food. A school going student may not know the name of the President of India, but might write an essay of 300 words on corruption.

“Sir, We’re here”, My Driver intervened my thoughts. I step-out of the car buttoning again the Blazer.

“Nice Arrangement”. Words dropped in my ear by chattering people, while walking down the Green carpet.


Artistically maintained Hall-room yelling it out loud itself, that it has gone through a lot of careful and experienced thinking of the Event Manager.

“Welcome, Mr. Ayan”, with a very soft voice, Naman, greeted.

“Hello Naman, How are you?”. I replied with a smile. Though it’s a soft natural tendency that comes from within.

“Fine. How did you like the arrangements?”.He asked.

“Marvelous”. I congratulated him for the choice he made by cautiously selecting an Event manager.

The reason for crediting the Event Manager was that, he had set the marriage theme more or less into a painting exhibition. All walls were covered with the sheer perfection of combination of colours. Precisely, it was looking like a rainbow containing more than seven colours.

“and Whats better than this can be, when it comes to one of the exquisite 5-star Hotels in Delhi”. I Spawned his Familiarity with money and the status he gained. His dedication towards his work, made him the senior Manager Level-2 last year.

GOD_ZILA try to eat SUN

He works at the Design and fabrication of the Hardware of the hand-held devices. I work with the memory optimisation of those devices.

“Where is Ananya ?”. I inquired anxiously about the Bride.

“She is in the Room upstairs.You can meet her.”, He looked at his Tissot T-Pocket and softly said,”I think, she is about to come down in 20 minutes”. He explained and left to welcome other guests. I can understand, how cranial scars are stressed at such moments.

Some important office people were on their way to Hotel. Thanks to the Traffic of Delhi, I was standing alone holding the glass of apple juice.

I thought of using my time. I headed towards the room where Ananya was waiting.

Me and Ananya share a decent chemistry. We became good friends too. She told me that her fiance, Arjun Saxena, works with a shipping firm in Singapore as a Senior Product manager.

“Hey Ananya! Looking gorgeous.” these words came out swiftly. She was looking very pretty in the gems-carved Dark Maroon Lehanga. Her make-up was cutting-edge perfect.

“Hi. Thank you. When did you arrive?”, She asked promptly.

“Just few minutes before. And I must say you have selected everything perfectly”, I underlined the inevitable truth.

While I was in conversation with Ananya and her would-be in-law family members, two of her friends came up.

“Hey Ananya!”,”come lets go, everyone is waiting downstairs now”. Her friend helped her to gain balance with the heavily carved Lehanga.

We went back to the main hall. Everyone was busy. Ananya’s slow and gradual steps towards stage, gained attention of the mob. Main stage was fully embraced with the Rajnigandha and White Lily flower . Christ! She was looking like an Angel.

I wonder, how girls turn into such enormous beauty, when it comes to their wedding. Only God knows!

I Luv it ;)

This Weather We got to see every second day. We're Blessed!

In the meanwhile I got Naman’s company. One of the girls, who was walking with the bride, drew my attention.

I started enjoying the hot chocolate with Naman. Her confident walk and steady looks was giving me an impression, that she was an independent girl. She must be in good company and holding some responsibilities too.

” Sneha Awasthi, our new recruit in HR Department”, he assessed the attention I was paying her.”She joined 2 weeks before”, he added and cleared the air.

“and how come, I don’t even know about it”. I queried back immediately.

“someone needs VALGRIND here!”, he pulled my leg and gave me a half crooked smile.

I went near to the same painting she was looking at.

“Wow!”, she said by looking at the enormously beautiful painting of a village woman. Woman in the painting was cooking food for the family on the chulha. Smoke was coming out of that chulha.

“Waaoooww !”, that’s what I whispered to me, after I looked at the epitome of feminism.She was looking Flawless. Her simple ethnic Red-color saaree, her curled hair at the end, her wide Black eyes, her confident steps on the green carpet, heading towards another room, for further glimpse of artistic perfection.

I followed her, to catch another glimpse of the Almighty’s perfection.

Vikas “Smrit” Singh.




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