When I was a child, my uncle gave me a book about the cosmos, the planets, and the great mysteries of space.
At that age, I could not fully understand the science behind what I was reading. I did not know how gravity worked, how planets moved, or why the universe seemed so vast and endless. But even without understanding the details, something inside me changed forever.
I still remember spending long hours turning the pages of that book, staring at the images of planets, stars, and galaxies. Every page felt like an invitation to imagine a world far beyond my own. I would look at the illustrations and wonder what existed beyond Earth, beyond the Moon, and beyond everything I could see in the night sky.
Among all the planets, Uranus was always the one that fascinated me the most. Maybe it was its mysterious blue color, its incredible distance from the Sun, or simply the fact that it seemed so different from the others. To me, Uranus felt silent, cold, and unknown, like a hidden world waiting patiently to be discovered and understood.
Looking back now, I believe that book was one of the first reasons I became deeply interested in technology and science. It planted a question in my mind that never truly disappeared: How do humans understand things so far away from us? That question slowly became curiosity, and curiosity eventually became passion.
As I grew older, I began learning more about astronomy, rockets, astronauts, satellites, and the extraordinary engineering behind space exploration. The more I learned, the more amazed I became. Space was no longer just about beautiful planets or distant stars. It became a story of human intelligence, persistence, and imagination.
What fascinated me most was not only the astronauts, but also the thousands of people behind them.
When people think about space missions, they often imagine the astronauts standing at the center of history. But behind every launch, every landing, and every moment of success, there are teams of engineers, scientists, mathematicians, programmers, and technicians working together with precision and dedication. That realization changed the way I saw technology.
The Apollo missions, for example, were not only about reaching the Moon.
They were about collaboration.
They were about discipline, mathematics, engineering, communication, and belief.
Inside Houston’s mission control center, countless professionals worked together toward one final objective: landing human beings on the Moon and bringing them safely back to Earth. Every calculation mattered. Every system mattered. Every person mattered.
Even today, it still feels almost unreal to think about what humanity achieved during that era.
One of the most unforgettable moments in history came with the words:
“Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.”
That sentence captured the success of years of effort, sacrifice, and innovation. It was not only a message from the Moon, it was proof that human beings could turn an impossible dream into reality.
And then came the moment that inspired millions of people around the world:
“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”
Neil Armstrong’s words represented far more than a person walking on the Moon. They represented the power of curiosity guided by knowledge, and the power of technology guided by vision.
As a child, watching astronauts, rockets, and space documentaries made me realize something important: technology is not just about machines or computers. Technology is imagination transformed into reality. It is the bridge between an idea and an achievement.
Behind every rocket launch, there were people solving problems no one had solved before. There were programmers writing systems, engineers designing machines, mathematicians checking trajectories, and teams making decisions under pressure. These were people who dedicated years of their lives to make the impossible possible.
I think this is one of the reasons I became so passionate about technology and software engineering.
For me, technology has always been more than code, devices, or systems. It is a human effort to create, improve, and explore. It is a way of turning curiosity into progress.
Today, whenever I learn something new about programming, systems, or engineering, I still remember that child sitting with a book of planets and dreaming about space. I remember the wonder I felt, the questions I asked, and the excitement of discovering something bigger than myself.
That feeling never completely disappeared.
And maybe that is the most beautiful part of it all: sometimes, a simple childhood memory can shape an entire future.
