Dear Computer Science

by ashwinia

Before I begin, you should know that you aren’t going to like this letter. Now, I shall begin.

It was June, the year of 2009. I had returned home from Ettimadai just a few days earlier, after a year at college; a year that I knew so certainly, had been wasted; A year which saw me spread out my set of engineer’s accoutrements(drafter, chart holder(my favorite) and other things whose names I could never remember) in a corner of the hostel’s visitors’ room only to use nothing but a ruler to duplicate as precisely as I could, the drawing on some sheet I had borrowed from the boys in class, sit up in the nights – the ones preceding exams – and study by rote formulae whose significance I had no understanding of simply to scrape through math, doze(No, I did not doze-drool) on the mess table despite the cold water spray I had subject my eyes to in an attempt to keep my eyelids from getting together and cosying like they do in the nights and so much more. The year was also one of my best, for reasons I will talk about on another day. In spite of those reasons – the ones involving crazy antics, the ones that brought into life people that will go on to stay and others among them – the year, in retrospect, was one of the most wasted (not in every sense of the word). I never cared what causes the electrons in a diode to travel, or where they go; I instead passed electronics highlighting potential barrier on my answer sheet. I stumbled in viva tests, and smiled my way through; some profs cursed me, others smiled back, mostly at my ignorance. I even managed to pass the paper with triple integrals despite my abysmal, shoddy abilities in simple integration. I was now just three years from graduation, from being called respectfully, a Computer Science Engineer. Yet, it was a wasted year: something I knew so well.

That summer, many of my classmates were looking for a way into some company for an In Plant Training. I was looking for a Content Writing internship. I never managed to find one, but let’s forget that. I knew then, that I was where I felt no belonging. Only, I did not know where else I’d belong. The dilemma ate away my summer. I was back for my second year with my mind still vacationing in confusion.

I knew I had to get away or make up my mind at the least. I knew I wanted to write, I wasn’t so sure. I needed to find something I wanted to do, something I’d do anything to do.

That was when you appeared. Just when I was giving up, when I was finding my way, you showed. Showing up, merely showing up isn’t what I detest you for. My hatred sources itself on the fact that you didn’t show your complete all-inclusive self. You piqued my drooping interests. When I was still indifferent, you challenged my facilities and lured me into a world that you hoodwinked me to believe – and I was nothing more than a nincompoop to believe – was all about logic in its purity. Yet, I tried to ignore your existence and gave you almost no time or attention. I cartooned and texted through lectures, making new friends and knowing existing ones better. When the semester’s end was looming, when it was readying itself for its impending slumber, you’d come back cleverly in your slyest avatar : exams. You’d poke into the fluffs of my brain and pull my already falling hair to show me you’re better. You’d provoke me till I got so mad, I’d want to beat you. I’d want to beat you to show you I can and to show you I can nail you like you never thought I could. I’d sit with my books and rack my brains till I got the logic. I’d go deep down an algorithm, deeper down the depths of a Tree and I’d jump out of the tail of a Linked List. I knew the ways to sort and to solve those many problems with fancy names; I knew them as well as Dijkstra, Kruskal and Ford did. I did have fun, I confess. I thought I’d enjoy the camaraderie all my life. Somewhere along the way, I was deceived; I was tricked beyond understanding and ironically, logic too. I forgot to find something I wanted to do, something I’d do anything to do.

I forgot it all, my bigger ambitions inclusive.

It seemed alright then, cause I had found you. Only four years hence, do I realize: You were never complete, the incarnation that I then saw of you. ‘Technology’ complements you, a word I have grown to detest. You veiled your alter ego like it didn’t exist. You buried it somewhere deep; my short sightedness never allowed me to see that far. You knew then, I’d hate you the day I grasp it and see through your act. The day has landed: today. I’m now stuck in a life entwined with you and your consort. And now, as I see you in your practical actuality, I’m forced to retrospect. I now see that I never liked you like either of us thought I did. You intrigued me and played hard to get. You offended my ego and caused me to retaliate.  You enchanted me and I fell for your spell. The ego kept it going. I couldn’t let myself lose and you couldn’t see me win. It was a love-hate relationship that has now evanesced leaving behind a residue, scum rather. Cause now it’s just the hate. You are the reason why I took so long to find something I’d do anything to do.

Now I know. I want to write. I want to read. I want to travel. I want to read till I die and write till I can no more and travel till I’ve seen it all. It will make me happy like you never could. I’m glad the disillusionment happened.

Someday, my strongest emotion for you will be indifference. I cannot wait.

Just a little bit of love for the sake of the good days,