An IT Odyssey
Twenty–five years ago, he arrived with a spine full of sunrise. His eyes carried the reckless optimism of someone who believed effort was sacred, that sincerity could negotiate with destiny. The building received him without emotion. It had seen thousands like him—young men carrying invisible suitcases filled with hunger. He offered his name. The system offered him a login. And thus began his long conversation with urgency. Deadlines became his first language. They stood behind him like silent supervisors, tapping his shoulder with cold fingers. Targets hovered in front of him like distant, indifferent stars—forever visible, never intimate. He ran toward them with the obedience of faith, not knowing whether arrival would bring fulfillment or simply another horizon. Stress entered his life quietly, without ceremony. It sat beside him during lunches he forgot to eat. It traveled home with him in crowded buses and silent cabs. It slept next to him, whispering unfinished tasks i...