Chapter 3: First Line of Code
Morning arrived in Mumbai without apology.
The alarm clock rang at six, its shrill sound cutting through the humid air. Arjun reached out and shut it off before it could wake the rest of the house. He sat up slowly, grounding himself.
2002. Engineering college. Day three since transmigration.
He repeated it in his head like a constant variable.
After a quick wash and a simple breakfast, Arjun stepped outside with a notebook tucked under his arm. The street was already alive—vendors shouting, buses coughing smoke, people moving with purpose even if they didn't quite know where they were headed.
He liked that about Mumbai.
Chaos, but directional.
At college, the computer lab was half-empty. Most students preferred to socialize or sleep between lectures. Arjun walked straight to a corner terminal and logged in.
The screen flickered.
Old system. Limited permissions. Slow response.
Perfect constraints.
A voice came from behind him. "You came early today."
Arjun turned. A thin boy with glasses and an oversized backpack stood there, curious rather than suspicious.
"Yes," Arjun replied calmly.
"You are Arjun, right? From second bench?" the boy asked.
"Yes."
"I am Sameer," he said, extending a hand. "Computer science."
"Same," Arjun said, shaking it.
Sameer glanced at the empty lab. "Most people say these systems are useless. Too outdated."
Arjun smiled faintly. "A system is only useless if you do not know what to ask it to do."
Sameer blinked. "That sounds… philosophical."
"It is practical," Arjun replied, turning back to the screen.
Sameer hesitated, then pulled a chair next to him. "What are you working on?"
"Learning how the machine thinks," Arjun said. "Not the language. The logic."
Sameer leaned closer. "Aren't they the same?"
"No," Arjun said. "Languages change. Logic compounds."
He opened a text editor and began typing.
No flashy interface. No internet connection.
Just code.
He wrote a small program—simple input handling, basic data validation, optimized loops. Nothing revolutionary. But clean. Efficient. Thoughtful.
Sameer watched silently for a few minutes before speaking again.
"You code very differently," he said.
"How so?"
"You do not rush," Sameer replied. "Most people just try to make it work."
Arjun paused, then said, "Making it work is temporary. Making it correct saves time later."
Sameer nodded slowly, as if filing the sentence away for future use.
After an hour, Arjun saved his work and logged out.
"That program does nothing useful," Sameer said carefully.
Arjun stood. "It does one very important thing."
"What?"
"It proves I still remember how to think."
The lecture that followed was dull—basic concepts Arjun had mastered more than a decade ago in his previous life. He listened anyway. Not for the content, but for the system.
Teaching pace. Exam patterns. What was emphasized. What was ignored.
This curriculum creates employees, not builders, he thought.
At lunch, Sameer joined him again.
"You skipped the canteen," Sameer said.
"I prefer quiet," Arjun replied.
Sameer hesitated. "Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"What do you want to do after engineering?"
Arjun looked at the trees lining the campus road. Leaves swayed gently, unaware of markets, recessions, or revolutions.
"I want to solve problems before people realize they have them," he said.
Sameer frowned. "That sounds risky."
"It is," Arjun agreed. "But safe paths are crowded. And crowds move slowly."
Sameer laughed. "You talk like someone much older."
Arjun met his eyes. "Experience does not always correlate with age."
That evening, Arjun returned to the internet café.
Not to browse.
To measure.
He timed page loads. Observed customer behavior. Watched which machines failed most often. Noted pricing inefficiencies.
The owner glanced at him. "You come here often."
"I like systems," Arjun replied.
The owner laughed. "This system barely works."
"Which is why it has potential," Arjun said.
The man looked confused, but shrugged.
At home later that night, Arjun opened his notebook and wrote a single line at the top of the page:
FIRST PRODUCT: KNOWLEDGE
Not to sell.
To apply.
He mapped out the next six months. Skills to learn. Projects to build. Problems to study.
No shortcuts.
No noise.
Just compounding effort.
As he lay down to sleep, rain tapped lightly against the window. The city breathed around him—millions of lives intersecting, diverging, colliding.
Arjun closed his eyes.
In his previous life, he had chased success.
This time, he would engineer it.
One decision at a time.
One line of code at a time.
End of Chapter 3