Computer Organization and Design

Pre published version of Computer Organization and Design Note
Compiled by Rabiraj Khadka
Some Photo Credit to Pratiek Budhathoki
Special thanks to Er. Milan Chikanbanjar अनि Bill Gates  लाई पनि








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तपाईंको रचना संसारलाई पढाउने हाम्रो सपना

के तपाईं चाहनुहुन्छ कि तपाईंको लेख तथा रचना यहाँ(E-library मा ) पढियोस ? यदी चाहनुहुन्छ भने हाम्रो आधिकारीक फेसबूक पेज मा गई हामिलाई म्यासेज गर्नुहोस हामी साथ दिन्छौ तपाईंलाई आफ्नो लेख रचना प्रकाशित गर्न ।

तपाईं सँग कबिता,कथा, उपन्यास,कुनै पनि पुस्तक छन र E-library मा राख्न चाहनुहुन्छ भने स्वागत छ तपाईंलाई, हामी तयार छौ तपाईं सँग हातेमालो गर्न, हाम्रो फेसबूक पेज मा  गई हामीलाई म्यासेज गर्नुहोस पुस्तक को नाम र  स्वरुप (format) सहित ।

lets make the community for book lover!!!

Happy Reading, Happy Sharing.

  

Can Love Happened Twice?

Can Love Happen Twice                                       #Ravinder Singh

 What can you say about a guy who lost his girlfriend by the time the two of them were to exchange their engagement rings? That he plunged into the deepest ocean of trauma? That, for whatever happened, he lost his faith in God? That he was so madly immersed in the love of his mortal girlfriend that, after she was gone, forever, he wrote an immortal love story in her memory? Or maybe that, after a long interval of time, one day, love knocked at his door once again?

Chapter One

    Dusk had fallen when Amardeep walked out of the exit gate of the busy Chandigarh airport. A chilly winter welcomed him for the very first time to ‘The City Beautiful’. The evening was even more beautiful for it was Valentine’s Day. Love was in the air and red was the colour everywhere. The temperature must have been close to 4 degrees. Adding to the winter chill was the cool breeze which was blowing that evening, compelling the just-arrived passengers to pull out their jackets. 

    Enjoying the initial few moments, Amardeep let his body feel and embrace the cold surrounding him, but he could not bear it for long. Soon he pulled out his jacket and zipped it up till his neck. The foggy breath that he exhaled was visible. It was that cold.

TO KILL a MOCKINGBIRD

To kill a mocking bird                               
                                                                                          #Harper Lee
When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. When it healed, and Jem’s fears of never being able to play football were assuaged, he was seldom self-conscious about his injury. His left arm was somewhat shorter than his right; when he stood or walked, the back of his hand was at right angles to his body, his thumb parallel to his thigh. He couldn’t have cared less, so long as he could pass and punt.

When enough years had gone by to enable us to look back on them, we sometimes discussed the events leading to his accident. I maintain that the Ewells started it all, but Jem, who was four years my senior, said it started long before that. He said it began the summer Dill came to us, when Dill first gave us the idea of making Boo Radley come out.

I said if he wanted to take a broad view of the thing, it really began with Andrew Jackson. If General Jackson hadn’t run the Creeks up the creek, Simon Finch would never have paddled up the Alabama, and where would we be if he hadn’t? We were far too old to settle an argument with a fist-fight, so we consulted Atticus. Our father said we were both right.

I too had a love story

I too had a Love Story 

                                                                           #Ravinder Singh

I remember the date well: 4 March 2006. I was in Kolkata and about to reach Happy’s home. I had

been very excited all morning as I was going to see our gang of four after three years. After our

engineering, this was the first time when all of us—Manpreet, Amardeep, Happy and I—were going

to be together. During our first year in the hostel, Happy and I were in different rooms on the fourth

floor of the Block-A building. Being on the same floor, we were acquaintances but I never wanted to

interact with him. I didn’t think him to be ‘a good guy’ because of his fondness for fights and the red

on his mark sheet. But, unfortunately, I was late in getting back to the hostel at the beginning of the

second year and almost all the rooms were already allotted by then. I was not left with any choice

other than becoming Happy’s roommate. And because life is weird, things changed dramatically and,

soon, we became the best of buddies. The day our reunion was scheduled, he had been working with

TCS for two years and was enjoying his onsite project in London. Happy was blessed with a height

of 6’1”, a good physique and stunning looks.

And Happy was always happy. Manpreet, or MP as we called him, is short-statured, fair and

healthy.

Of Course I love You....... till I find someone Better

Of Course I love You....... till I find Someone Better                

                                                                   #Durjoy datta ,#Maanvi Ahhuja

This is perfect. This is perfect, I kept telling myself. It had been twelve hours on the trot. I had already

spent my entire month’s allowance on her and there were no signs that I would be treated to any sort of

guilty pleasures other than the expensive and the utterly fattening ones any time soon. The fact that

Smriti looked smoking hot in her floral spaghetti and the short, pleated skirt that ended inches below her

butt, wasn’t doing me any good either. The very purpose of the skirt’s existence—easy accessibility and

eventual get rid-ability—was being defeated that night.

It had been a long day and I was ruing the moment I had asked her out tonight. I had missed all my

classes that day, all in vain.

‘So, what next?’ she asked.

What next? For starters, she could fry my bloody head and chomp it down. Oh no, wait! That won’t

cost me anything. No doubt, she would order her third cocktail that evening to wash it down. Now if

only she would get tipsy, start seeing things in double and eventually be oblivious to my rendering her

clothes useless. I might be a jerk, but many guys would agree with me on this: nudity suits girls.

‘I don’t know,’ I said, plastering a dreamy look on my face, one that screamed that I needed nothing

but her. I hoped it would work this time, though it was the millionth time that day and she had not even

blown a kiss, let alone do it real time.