Tag Archives: dailyprompt-1835

Do We Still Need Computers to Be Productive Bloggers?

My first computer was not just a machine—it was an initiation. It taught me patience, discipline, and attentiveness at a time when technology demanded presence and effort. Today, when most of my work as a blogger and consultant fits into a single phone, I realise that my first computer didn’t just teach me how to use technology—it taught me how to begin, so I could now work lightly and freely.

Daily writing prompt
Write about your first computer.
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My first computer demanded patience. Today, my phone offers speed. Somewhere between those two experiences lies everything I’ve learned about discipline, creativity, and working with intention.

Write About Your First Computer

(A 2026 Reflection)

My first computer was not just a machine—it was an initiation.

It occupied physical space, demanded patience, and insisted on ceremony. Turning it on felt like an event. Waiting for it to respond taught me stillness. Every click mattered. Every saved file felt intentional. That computer didn’t just introduce me to technology; it trained me in attentiveness.

Over the years, I’ve written about that first computer—as a journey, and later as a keeper of hidden histories. Each time, I discovered something new about myself rather than about the device.

Today, things are different.

I now own a MacBook Pro and an iPhone 14 Pro Max. Yet if I’m honest, the phone alone is enough for almost everything I do—as a blogger, a reflective writer, and a consultant involved in multiple projects. Writing, editing, publishing, researching, communicating, even quiet contemplation—all of it fits into something that rests in the palm of my hand.

And that realisation feels quietly moving.

My first computer asked me to come to it.

My current “computer” goes wherever I go.

The shift is not merely technological—it’s philosophical. Once, computing was about learning commands and respecting limits. Now, it’s about fluidity, responsiveness, and presence. The machine no longer announces itself. It disappears into the work.

Perhaps that is the real legacy of my first computer:

it taught me discipline, so that I could later enjoy freedom.

Today, I don’t marvel at processors or storage. I marvel at how tools have become transparent enough to let thought, faith, memory, and purpose take center stage. What once felt extraordinary has become ordinary—and in that ordinariness, creativity flows more freely.

My first computer taught me how to begin.

My current one teaches me how to continue—lightly.

And maybe that’s the quiet grace of progress:

not louder machines, but softer interruptions.

Earlier reflections on the same prompt

(for readers who wish to journey backward before moving forward)

What Hidden Histories Lurked in My First Computer’s Old Hard Drive?
What Did My First Computer Teach Me About Technology?

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Word Count:474

What Hidden Histories Lurked in My First Computer’s Old Hard Drive?

Write about your first computer.


My first computer, a 1998 HCL Beastmaster, was rescued from a school lab auction and rebuilt during the monsoon with salvaged parts. Named “Kunjikka,” it taught me patience through its quirks, slow boot times, and unpredictable behaviour. It wasn’t just a machine—it carried stories from its past owner and became part of my journey into technology.

“My First Computer Lived Through Monsoons (And Taught Me Patience in 56kbps)”

“First computers in Kerala aren’t devices. They’re family members.”

“I like to think machines have souls, or at least ghosts.”

I didn’t find my first computer in a sleek Bangalore tech park or a Chennai showroom. I found it sweating under a tarp at Kochi’s Broadway Market, between a stack of betel leaves and a parrot astrologer shouting everyone’s future for ₹10.  

It was 2003. My uncle arrived home on his spluttering Bajaj Chetak, cradling a yellowed CPU like it was a temple offering. “It’s a Pentium!” he announced as if that explained the moss growing on its vents. The machine—a 1998 HCL Beastmaster, according to its peeling sticker—had been rescued from a school lab auction. It smelled of mildew and ambition.  

Monsoon rains attacked that summer. Humidity fused the keyboard’s keys into a sticky “idiyappam” of letters. Our power cuts lasted longer than Hindi soap operas. Yet, my uncle insisted this was my “summer project.” 

We rebuilt the machine like Ayurvedic surgeons. The monitor (a bulbous Sony Trinitron) came from Vishnu Sir next door, who upgraded to LCD after his son declared the old one. The mouse, missing its ball, was replaced with a stolen marble from my brother’s “pallankuzhi” board. For the internet, we bribed the local BSNL guy with “Kattan chai” to prioritize our line—though “broadband” meant tying the cable to a coconut tree to prevent squirrels from chewing it.  

First computers in Kerala aren’t devices. They’re family members.  

I named it “Kunjikka”—“little king” in Malayalam—because it demanded royal treatment. It refused to boot unless I sang “Mangalampattu” to calm its capacitors. The CD drive spat out my ‘Shaktimaan’game disc but devoured a pirated MP3 compilation, digesting it forever. Yet, in its tantrums, I saw my resistance mirrored. Why did I care if it booted? Because the village librarian smirked when I asked for “HTML books”? Because my tech-savvy friend in Dubai sent a ‘How to Conquer Computers’tape that I’d hidden under my mattress?  

Then, the monsoon revelation. While recovering files, I found remnants of its past life: a half-deleted spreadsheet titled “SSLC Exam Marks 1999,” a folder of “Mehndi designs.jpg”, and—most mysteriously—a Tamil love letter typed in Comic Sans. “Kunjikka” had belonged to a teacher in Coimbatore. A romantic? A spreadsheet wizard? Suddenly, the machine wasn’t a machine. It was a “Katha” with multiple authors.  

I began creating. Not sensible things, but Geocities pages glowing with neon text: “WELCOME TO ANCY’S WORLD.” I painted pixel Kolams in MS Paint, saving each iteration to floppy disks labelled like pickles (Mango_1, Mango_2, Mango_FINAL_FINAL).

Friends mocked “Kunjikka’s”10-minute boot time and the table fan duct-taped to its overheating motherboard. But I’d learned its rhythms. Technology here isn’t about speed—it’s about ‘jugaad’. You coax. You improvise. You out-stubborn the stubborn.  

Last year, at a Thiruvananthapuram tech conference, a developer laughed when I called floppies “the original cloud storage.” But clouds here burst open every June. Floppies survived termites.  

Today, I code apps that track monsoon patterns, but I still unplug my laptop during thunderstorms—not because of voltage, but because “Kunjikka” once survived a lightning strike by sacrificing its sound card. I like to think machines have souls, or at least ghosts.  

“Kunjikka”retired in 2007, and it’s hard to drive sighing like a retiring “Kathakali” actor. I repurposed its CPU as a stand for my ‘nilavilakku’, the brass lamp glowing where circuits once hummed.  

Author’s Note: Still have that Tamil love letter. Still can’t read it.

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Word Count:692

What Did My First Computer Teach Me About Technology?

Write about your first computer.

My first computer was a desktop PC equipped with an Intel Pentium III processor running at 600 MHz, 64 MB of RAM, and a 10 GB hard drive. It featured CD-ROM drives for software installation, integrated graphics with limited capabilities, and operated on Windows 98 SE (Second Edition). Despite its modest specifications, it served me well for basic computing tasks and ignited my passion for technology.
Embracing Nostalgia

As I sit down to reminisce about my first computer, a flood of memories comes rushing back. It wasn’t just a machine; it was a gateway to a whole new world of possibilities.

Let me take you on a journey through the early days of personal computing, where my trusty desktop PC was both a companion and a tool for exploration.

Back in the late ’90s, technology was evolving at a rapid pace, and owning a personal computer was becoming more common. My first desktop PC boasted an Intel Pentium III processor clocking in at 600 MHz. At the time, it felt like I had a powerhouse at my fingertips, capable of handling whatever tasks I threw its way.

With a modest 64 MB of RAM and a 10 GB hard drive, my computer may seem primitive by today’s standards, but it was more than sufficient for my needs. Whether I was doing Office work, surfing the early days of the internet, or dabbling in basic multimedia projects, my computer was there to support me every step of the way.

One of the most vivid memories I have is the sound of the CD-ROM drive whirring to life as I installed software or access data. It was a tangible reminder of the endless possibilities that lay within those shiny discs, waiting to be explored. From educational programs to my favourite games, each CD held a world of excitement and discovery.

Of course, no discussion of early computing would be complete without mentioning the integrated graphics card. While its capabilities were limited compared to modern standards, it was more than enough to bring my digital experiences to life. From pixelated graphics to basic animations, every image on the screen was a testament to the wonders of technology.

But perhaps the most iconic aspect of my first computer was its operating system: Windows 98 SE (Second Edition). With its iconic startup sound and familiar user interface, Windows 98 SE was the gateway to a world of endless possibilities. It may have had its quirks and limitations, but it provided a solid foundation for my computing journey.

Looking back, I realize just how far we’ve come since those early days of personal computing. Today’s computers are sleeker, faster, and more powerful than ever before. But there’s something special about the simplicity and charm of my first computer. It wasn’t just a machine; it was a companion that sparked my curiosity and fueled my passion for technology.

As I reflect on my journey with my first computer, I can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia. It may have been modest by today’s standards, but it was the beginning of a lifelong love affair with technology. So here’s to my first computer, a faithful companion that will always hold a special place in my heart.

Explore more insights from Rise&Inspire

# From Sholes to Smartphones

# Building a Better Modern Society

# Balancing Anticipation, Uncertainty, and Nostalgia

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