MyJourney

Born on 15 October 1931, at Rameswaram in Tamil Nadu, Dr Avul PakirJainulabdeen Abdul Kalam specialized in aeronautical engineering fromMadras Institute of Technology. Dr Kalam is one of the most distinguishedscientists of India and has received honorary doctorates from forty-fiveuniversitiesandinstitutionsinIndiaandabroad.HehasbeenawardedthePadmaBhushan(1981),thePadmaVibhushan(1990)andIndia'shighestcivilianaward,theBharatRatna(1997).HehasalsoreceivedtheKingCharlesIImedal(2007),the Woodrow Wilson Award (2008), the Hoover Award (2008) and theInternational Von Karman Wings Award (2009) among other internationalaccolades.DrKalambecametheeleventhPresidentofIndiaon25July2002.Hisfocusandgreatest ambition remains finding ways to transform India into a developednation.

PublishedbyRupaPublicationsIndiaPvt.Ltd2013

7/16,AnsariRoad,DaryaganjNewDelhi110002

SalesCentres:

AllahabadBengaluruChennaiHyderabadJaipurKathmanduKolkataMumbai

Textcopyright©A.P.J.AbdulKalam2013Illustrationscopyright©RupaPublicationsIndiaPvt.Ltd2013

Allrightsreserved.

Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,transmitted,orstoredinaretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,electronic,mechanical,

photocopying,recordingorotherwise,withoutthepriorpermissionofthepublisher.

10987654321

Themoralrightoftheauthorhasbeenasserted.

PrintedatThomsonPressIndiaLtd

Thisbookissoldsubjecttotheconditionthatitshallnot,bywayoftradeorotherwise,belent,resold,hiredout,orotherwisecirculated,withoutthe

publisher’spriorconsent,inanyformofbindingorcoverotherthanthatinwhichitispublished.

TothesixteenmillionyouthwhoIhavemetandinteractedwithinthelasttwodecades

contents

Introduction

MyFather'sMorningWalk

TheBoat

AWorkingBoyatEight

ThreeGreatHeartsResolveaProblem

MyMotherandMySister

MyFirstMentor:AhmedJalalluddin

WhenIFailed

MyFavouriteBooks

ABrushwithFire

MyMentor:DrVikramSarabhai

ALifeinScience

MilestoGo

Acknowledgements

introduction

MyJourney recountscertainuniqueexperiencesofmylifefrommychildhooduntil now,when I amover eightyyearsold. In all theseyears and throughallthese experiences, the most important lesson I have learnt is, one must keepdreamingatvariousphasesoflife,andthenworkhardtorealizethosedreams.Ifwedo so, then success is imminent.To themanypeople Imeet I always say,'Dreamsarenotthosethatweseeinoursleep;theyshouldbetheonesthatneverletussleep.'

The idea for this book came to me one day while I was walking in mygarden. Like every other time, I stood under the grand Arjuna tree which isnearlyahundredyearsoldinage,andIlookedupintoitsbranchestoseeifanynew nests had been built by birds or if a fresh beehive had appeared. Andsomething in that moment, as I gazed up at this tree, in this city of Delhi,remindedmeintenselyofmyfather.He,too,wasanearlyriserwhosefirstfewhours of the day would be spent with nature, examining his coconut trees,walkingtheroadsofthetownwelivedin.Irecalledwithasmileandafeelingofhappinessmychildhood, thepeoplewho inhabited it, thehands Iheldwhile Itraversedit.Ithenalsobegantothinkofthejourneythatmylifehasbeen—theunusualpathsIhavetravelled, thethingsIhaveseen,theeventsIhavebeenapartof.AndIbegan towonder if thesememoriesandexperiencesshouldstaywithmeorifImustsharethemwithmynumerousreadersandfamilymemberswhose numbers have grown as large as the abundant roots of an enormousbanyantree—itsgreat-great-grandchildren!

Ihavewrittenafewbookstilldate,andinsomeofthemIhavedescribedmychildhood experiences. When I wrote my first book about my life, I hadwondered how it would interest anyone. Unlike in my previous books, MyJourney focusesmoreon thesmaller, lesser-knownhappenings inmylife.Theincidents aroundmymother and fatherwerewritten because evennow, at theage of eighty-two, I still cherish the values and ethics that they lovinglyinculcated in me. The qualities they instilled in me, and which I learnt fromobserving them and by understanding their reactions to the adversities they

faced,havehelpedmelivebetter,andthroughthesevaluesmyparentsstilllivestrongly within me. When my father talked about the importance ofunderstanding people'sminds, or faced difficulties stoically, I remembered hiswordsyearslaterwhenIwasbattlingvariousoddsmyself.Inmymother'stendertouch and sensitive upbringing of her children I found a world of love andkindness.IalsofeltcompelledtorecordindetailthecontributionsofmysisterZohraandhergenerosity;theopennessoftheoutlookofmyfirstmentorAhmedJalalluddinthatfirstencouragedmetothinkofstudyingfurther.InstancessuchasmyfailuretoqualifyfortheIndianAirForceandtheotheradversitiesIhavebeenwitnessto,haveallbroughthometomethenecessityofsetbacksinone'slife.Yes,theyseeminsurmountableatthetime,buttherereallyisnodifficultyonecannotovercomeifthereisdeterminationintheheart.

Recently, I was talking to my friend Professor Arun Tiwari, when hesuddenlyaskedmeanunusualquestion,'Kalamsaheb,canyousumupyourlifesofar,inonesentence?'

It made me think for a while. Eventually I said, 'Arun, my life can besummed up in these phrases andwords: love poured to the child…struggle…more struggle…bitter tears… then sweet tears…and finally a life as beautifulandfulfillingasseeingthebirthofthefullmoon.'

I hope these stories will help all my readers understand their dreams andcompelthemtoworkonthosedreamsthatkeepthemawake.

A.P.J.AbdulKalam

or as far back as I can remember,my father Jainulabdeen's day began at 4a.m.Hewouldbeupbeforeanyoneelse in thehousehold.After sayinghis

prayersinthebreakinglightoftheday,hewouldgoonalongwalktovisithiscoconutgrove.Welived inRameswaram,asmall temple townonan island inTamilNadu.ThisbeingontheeastcoastofIndia,dawnwouldbreakearly,andourday'sschedulefollowedtherhythmoftherisingandsettingofthesunandtheseawaves.

The sound of the sea was a constant presence in our lives. Storms andcyclones blew bywith regularity during the tumultuousmonsoonmonths.Welived inour ancestral home, a fairly largehousemadeof limestone andbrick,builtsometimeinthenineteenthcentury.Itwasneverluxurious,butwasfilledwithlove.Myfatherhadaboat-buildingbusiness.Additionally,wealsoownedasmall coconutgrove some fourmilesaway fromourhouse.Thatwaswheremyfatherwouldbeheadedforintheearlymorninghours.Hiswalkingcircuitwaswellestablishedandherarelydeviatedfromit.FirsthewouldstepoutintoMosque Street, where our house was located. It was a small, predominantlyMuslim locality not too far from the Shiva temple that has made our townfamousforcenturies.Hewouldthenwalkthroughthenarrowlanesofthetown,on to themoreopen roads leading to thecoconutgroves,and finallywindhiswaythroughthegrovestohispatchofland.

TodayItrytoimaginehimwalkingonthosequietroads,longbeforethedaymade itsmanydemandsonhim.Ourswas a large family and I am sure thereweremanypressuresonhimtoseetoourneeds.Butatthathour,Ithinkofhimlistening intently to the sea, to the ever-present ravens and other birds thatswoopedandflewallaround,wokenupbytherisingsunlikehim.Perhapshesaidhisprayers tohimselfashewalked,or thoughtofhisfamilywithacalm,unclutteredearlymorningmind.Ineverdidaskhimwhatwentthroughhismindon this long daily walk—for when does a young boy really have the time toreflectinthiswayabouthisfather?ButIwasalwayssurethatthemorningwalkaddedsomethingtohispersonality,anelementofcalmthatwasapparenteventostrangers.

Myfatherwasnotapersonwithmuchformaleducation;neitherdidheeveracquiremuchwealth in his long lifetime.Yet, hewas one of thewisest, trulygenerousmen I have had the fortune of knowing. Ourmosquewas the focalpointofthelocality,andmyfatherwasthemaneveryoneturnedtointheirhourofneed.TheybelievedthathewastrulyconnectedtoGod.Iremembergoingto

themosquetosaymyprayerswithhim.Hemadesurewenevermissedanyofourprayersandneitherdiditenterourmindstoshirkthisduty.Aftersayingournamaz, when we would step out on to the road, groups of people wouldinevitablybethere,waitingtotalktohimandsharetheirworrieswithhim.

Whatdid thesemenandwomensee inhim?Hewasnot apreacher,norateacher.Hewas just amanwho livedbyhis convictions and the tenets of hisreligion.Whatdidhegivethem?Inowthinkthatitwashismerepresencethatcalmed themandgave themhope.Hesaidprayers for them,andmanypeoplewouldofferhimbowlsofwater.Hewoulddiphisfingertipsinthemandsayaprayer,afterwhichthewaterwouldbetakenawaytobegiventothesick.Later,manyofthesepeoplewouldcometothehouseandthankhimforhavingcuredtheirnearanddearones.

Whydidhedothis?Andwheredidhegetthepeacefulnessandgenerosityofheart to talk to people, comfort them and pray for them, in the midst of thebusynessofhisownlife?Hewasahumbleboatowner.Lifewascertainlynoteasyforhim,whatwithfindingthebestwaystomakeendsmeetinatinytempletowncutofffromthemainland.Yet,neveroncedidIseemyfatherturnawayanyonewhowantedtounburdenhimselfbytalkingtohim.

Withoutdoubt,hewasadeeplyspiritualmanwithsomekindofconnectionwithGod.Ibelievehisspiritualitycamefrombeingalearnedman.Heknewthescripturesandcouldbringouttheiressentialtruthtoeventheyoungestenquiringmind. When I asked him questions, he would always reply and attempt toexplain in simple, straightforward Tamil. Once I asked him, 'Why do thesepeoplecometoyou?Andwhatdoyoureallydoforthem?'Hisreplystillstayswithme,nearlyfivedecadeslater.

'Wheneverhumanbeings find themselvesalone, as anatural reaction, theystartlookingforcompany.Whenevertheyareintrouble,theylookforsomeonetohelpthem…Everyrecurrentanguish,longinganddesirefindsitownspecialhelper.Forthepeoplewhocometomeindistress,Iambutago-betweenintheirefforttowardoffdemonicforceswithprayersandofferings.'

Thenhewentontotellmesomethingaboutprayersanditspowerovermanthatstillresonates,despitemyyearsinthefieldofscientificresearch.Hesaidtolook for help outside is never the final answer. 'One must understand thedifferencebetweenafear-riddenvisionofdestinyandthevisionthatenablesustoseektheenemyoffulfillmentwithinourselves…Whentroublescome,trytounderstand the relevance of your sufferings. Adversity always presentsopportunitiesforintrospection.'

His advice meant that in the many setbacks and defeats that destiny hashandedme,Ihavealwaysbeenabletolookwithinforstrength.I travelledfar,

farawayfromlife inRameswaram.MyjourneytookmetoplacesIhadneverimaginedvisiting—fromthecockpitofafighter jet to thehighestoffice in thenation.Yet,itwasalwayshiswordsthatcamebacktome.

'There is a divine power that looks over us, that gently lifts us from oursadnessandfailuresandmiseries.Ifweopenourmindsandletit,itwillguideustoourtrueplace.Releaseyourselffromthebindingsthatlimityouandletthatpower overtake your mind, and that's when you will be on the road to truehappinessandpeace.'This iswhatI imaginehimsaying tomewheneverIamworried.

Iamnoweighty-twoyearsofage.Likehim,myday,eventoday,beginswithawalk.EverymorningIsavourthesightofthenewsun,thebenignlightinthesky before the sun appears, the cool breeze and the sweet call of the birds. Iunderstandhow this short timeof thedaybindsus tonature.Eachmorning isdifferentinthewaytheelementscometogetherforthatday.Itisalittledramanatureputsuponlyforus,andIcan'tstopmarvellingatit.Unlikehim,Ioftenfindmyselfindifferentcitiesandtownsinthemorningsbecauseofmytravels,buttheearlymorningpeaceandcalmisthesameeverywhere.WhereverIam,Icanfindatreethatisgreatwithage,wherebirdsdwellandgobusilyabouttheirdaywiththenewdawn,whoseleaveswavegentlytomeinthemorningbreeze.Itmaybeawarmdayorabitterlycoldmistymorningwhenmybreathfogstheairinfrontofme,butthistimeawayfromthecaresandworriesthattherestofthedaywillinvariablybringmeanssomuchtome.

Atmy home inDelhi there is a grand oldArjuna tree. Somehowmy feetalwayspullme towards itwhen Iwalk inmygarden. It is usually ladenwithhoneycombsand ishome tohundredsofbirds,especiallyparrots.Thedignity,beautyandstatureofthistreebringsmemoriesofmyfathertomindandIevenhave silent conversations with it. Once, I wrote this poem, where I imaginedwhatthetreewouldsaytomeifonlyitcould:

OhmyfriendKalam,Icrossedagehundredlikeyourfatherandmother.Everydaymorning,youwalkanhour,Ialsoseeyouonfullmoonnights,Walkingwithathinkingmood.Iknow,myfriend,thethoughtsinyourmind,'WhatcanIgive?'…

(TheGreatTreeinMyHome)As I walk wherever my life has led me, I often think of my father

Jainulabdeen.Inmymind'seyeIseeasimpleman,who,evenwhenhewasofagreatage,continuedtowalkeverymorningtohiscoconutgrove.AsIseehim,Iimaginehowit'sbeenalmostanhoursincehesetoff,and thecaretakerof thegrove is also up and going about his day. When my father walks into hisplantation,themenhaileachotherwithwarmth.PerhapsJainulabdeensitsdownsomewhere awhile. The other man climbs a coconut tree. He chooses half adozencoconutsandcutsthemdownwithaswingofhisknife.Theyfallwithathumptotheground.Themanquicklymakeshiswaydown.Thenheproceedstotiethemuptogetherintoaneatbundle.Nowthetwomensitcompanionablyfor awhile. They discuss the state of the trees. They peer up at the sky, talkaboutrainsandpestsandothermattersofthesoil.FinallyJainulabdeenpicksuphisbundleofcoconuts,saysgoodbyeandbeginshiswalkbackhome.Hewillgiveawayafewcoconutstoneighboursandothers.Therestwillfindtheirwayintocurriesandchutneyspreparedbymymother.Istillremembersittingdownto those simple meals and enjoying immensely the smooth, creamy coconutchutneymymotherplacedontheleafplate.Itisatastethathaslingeredinmymouthevenyearslater,madesweeterstillknowingthatitcontainedtheloveofmyparentsandtheirhonesthardwork.

ivingontheislandofRameswaramwhileIwasgrowingup, theseawasanimportantpartofour lives. Its tides, the lappingof thewaves, the soundof

trainspassingonthePambanBridge,thebirdsthatalwayscircledthetownandthesaltintheairaresightsandsoundsthatwillalwaysremainlinkedwithmymemories of childhood.Apart from its sheer presence around us, the seawasalsoasourceof livelihoodforourneighboursandus.Almosteveryhouseholdhadsomeconnectionwiththesea,whetherasfishermenorasboatowners.

Myfather,too,operatedaferrythattookpeoplebackandforthbetweentheislandsofRameswaramandDhanushkodi,whichisabouttwenty-twokilometresaway.Istillrememberthetimewhenhegottheideaforthis,andhowwebuiltthatboat.

Rameswaramhas,sinceantiquity,beenanimportantpilgrimagedestination.Rama isbelieved tohave stoppedhere andbuilt thebridge toLankawhenhewasonhiswaytorescueSita.ThetempleofRameswaramisdedicatedtoShiva,andhousesalingamfashionedbySitaherself.SomeversionsoftheRamayanasaythatRama,LakshmanaandSitastoppedheretopraytoShivaontheirwaybacktoAyodhyafromLanka.

People visiting our town would go to Dhanushkodi as part of theirpilgrimage.AbathatSagara-Sangamhereisconsideredsacred.Thesangamisthemeetingplaceof theBayofBengaland the IndianOcean.Dhanushkodi isnowconnectedbyroadandvanstakepilgrimsthere,butwaybackwhenIwasachild,aferrywasalsoagoodwayofreachingtheisland.

Myfather,lookingtosupplementhisnotverysubstantialincome,decidedtostart a ferry business. He started building the boat that we needed for thishimself,ontheseashore.

Watchingtheboatcometolifefrompiecesofwoodandmetalwasperhapsmy first introduction to the world of engineering. Wood was procured andAhmedJalalluddin,acousin,arrivedtohelpmyfatherout.Everyday,Iwouldwait impatiently till I could go to the placewhere the boatwas taking shape.Longpiecesofwoodwere cut into the required shape, dried, smoothenedandthenjoinedtogether.Woodfiresseasonedthewoodthatmadeupthehullandthebulkheads.Slowlythebottom,thenthesidesandthehullbegantoforminfrontofoureyes.Manyyears later, inmywork,Iwouldlearnhowtomakerocketsandmissiles.Complexmathematicsandscientificresearchwouldbethebedrockof those engineering marvels. But that boat coming up on a seashore, whichwouldtakepilgrimsandfishermenbackandforth…whoistosayitwasnotas

importantormomentousinourlivesthen?Thebuildingoftheboatwasanimportantinfluenceformeinanotherway.It

broughtAhmed Jalalluddin intomy life.Hewasmuch older thanme, yetwestruckupafriendship.Herecognizedtheinherentdesirewithinmetolearnandquestion,andwasalways there to lendapatientearandgivewordsofadvice.He could read and write English, and spoke to me about scientists andinventions, literature and medicine. Walking with him in the streets ofRameswaram,orbytheseaside,orbyourboatasittookshape,mymindbegantoformideasandambitions.

The boat businesswas a great success.My father employed somemen tooperateit,andgroupsofpilgrimswouldusetheservicetoreachDhanushkodi.ThereweredayswhenIwouldslipinamongthecrowdandsitwiththecrewastheysteeredtheboat toandfromRameswaram.IheardthestoryofRamaandhowhebuiltthebridgetoLankawiththehelpofhisarmyofmonkeys;howhebroughtbackSitaandstoppedatRameswaramagain,sothattheycouldperformpenanceforhavingkilledRavana;howHanumanwastoldtobringbackalargelingamfromfarupnorth,butwhenhe took too long,Sitawouldnotwaitandfashioned a lingam with her own hands to worship Shiva. These stories andmanyotherswashedaroundmeindifferenttonguesandshapes,aspeoplefromall over India used our ferry service.A little boy among somanywas alwayswelcomeandtherewouldbesomeoneor theotherwilling to talk tome,sharethestoryofhislifeandhisreasonsformakingthepilgrimage.

And so the years went by. My school, teachers, Ahmed Jalalluddin andothers taughtmesomany things.But theboatand thepeoplewhosailed in itwere no less important. In thisway, among thewaves and the sands, laughterandstories,thedaysflewby.Thenoneday,disasterstruck.

TheBayofBengalishitfrequentlybycyclones.ThemonthsofNovemberandMayinparticulararedangerousinthisregard.Istillrememberthenightofthat terrible cyclone vividly. The wind had picked up speed for days, till itbecame a howling gale. It screamed and whistled in our ears and pulled andhackedatthetreesoranythingthatstoodinitsway.Soontorrentialrainstarted.Wehadretreatedintoourhousesmuchearlier.Therewasnoelectricityinthosedays, and the lamps barelymanaged to stay alive. In that flickering darkness,with thewindworking itself intoa frenzy, the soundof the rain lashingdownoutside, we huddled together and waited for the night to pass. My thoughtstravelledagainandagaintotheopenseas.Wasanyonetrappedthere?Whatwasit like tobe inastormsuchas thiswithoutyourmother'scomfortingpresencecloseby?

The next morning, after the storm died down, we saw the unbelievable

destructionthathadbeenwroughtallaroundus.Trees,houses,plantationswereuprooted and devastated. The roads had disappeared under water and debrisflowninbywindsthathadcomeinatspeedsofover100milesanhour.Buttheworstnewsofallwastheonethathituslikeapunchtothestomach.Ourboathadbeenwashedaway.NowwhenIthinkofthatday,Irealizethatperhapsmyfatherhadknown thiswouldhappen thenightbefore,whilewewaited for thestormtopass.Inhislifehehadalreadywitnessedsomanystormsandcyclones.Thiswasjustoneofthem.Yet,hehadtriedtocalmuschildrendownandhadmadesurewewenttosleepwithoutinfectinguswithhisworries.Inthelightofthemorning, seeing his drawn face and theworries lining his eyes, I tried togathermythoughts.InmymindImournedourlostferryboatfiercely.Itfeltasthough something I hadmadewithmy own hands had been gathered up andtossedawaythoughtlessly.

Yet, my father's stoicism is what saw us through this crisis too. In timeanother boat came, and business resumed. Pilgrims and tourists returned. Thetempleandthemosquefilledwithworshippersandthemarketsbustledwithmenandwomen,buyingandsellingoncemore.

Cyclonesandstormsstruckusagainandagain.Ievenlearnttosleepthroughthem.Manyyearslater,in1964,whenIwasnolongerlivinginRameswaram,amassive cyclone struck. This time, it carried away a part of the landmass ofDhanushkodi.AtrainthatwasonPambanBridgeatthetimewaswashedaway,withmanypilgrimsinside.Italteredthegeographyofthearea,andDhanushkodibecameaghost town,neverreallyrecovering its formercharacter.Eventoday,remnantsofbuildingsstandthereasmonumentstothe1964cyclone.

Myfatherlosthisferryboatoncemoreinthatstorm.Hehadtorebuildhisbusiness yet again. I could not domuch to help him practically, for Iwas farremoved from that world. Butwhen I struggled to give shape to the SatelliteLaunch Vehicle (SLV) rocket, or the Prithvi and Agni missiles, whencountdownsandtake-offsweredisrupted,andourrocketlaunchsitessituatedbythe Bay of Bengal in Thumba and Chandipur were rained upon, I alwaysremembered the look on my father's face the day after the storm. It was anacknowledgementofthepowerofnature,ofknowingwhat itmeanstolivebytheseaandmakeyour livingfromit.Ofknowing that there isa largerenergyandforcethatcancrushourambitionsandplansintheblinkofaneye,andthattheonlywaytosurviveistofaceyourtroublesandrebuildyourlife.

very morning a large pile of newspapers, both in English and Tamil, isdelivered tome.DuringmytravelsabroadI like tostay in touchwithnews

from India,which I do by going online to read news articles and editorials indifferentmagazinesandpapers.Thewealthofinformationnowavailableattheclickofafingeramazesme.Asapersoncloselyinvolvedwithengineeringandscience, themarchof technologyshouldnotsurpriseme,butwhenI juxtaposeourlivestodaywithwhatitwaslikeseventyyearsago,inasmallsouthIndiantown,thedifferenceisstartlingevenforme.

Iwasborn in theyear1931.When Iwasabout eight,WorldWar IIbrokeout.Britain declaredwar onNaziGermany, anddespite the IndianCongress'sopposition, India too,asaBritishcolony,was involved in thewar. India'swareffort saw a record number of Indian soldiers being deployed in variouswarzones around the world. Daily life, however, remained fairly unaffectedinitially,particularlyforusinthesoutherntipofthecountry.

AsIhavementioned,Rameswaraminthe1940swasasleepylittletownthatcamealivewiththearrivalofpilgrims.Theinhabitantsweremostlytradespeopleorsmallbusinessmen.Thetownwasdominatedbythetemple,thoughtherewasa mosque and a church too. The inhabitants went about their way fairlypeacefully,andotherthanthenormalaltercationsthatbreakoutinanytownorvillage,nothingmuchofimportancehappened.

Theonlysourceofinformationabouttheoutsideworldwasthenewspaper.The agency that distributed newspapers was run by my cousin Samsuddin.AlongwithJalalluddin,hewasabiginfluenceinmyearlylife.Thoughhecouldread andwrite, Samsuddinwas notwell travelled nor highly educated.Yet hehadsuchaffectionformeandencouragedmeinsomanyways,thathebecameaguiding light forme.Thesemenunderstoodmydeepest thoughts and feelingsbefore I could articulate them. To me they were adults who could reach outbeyondthenarrowconfinesoftheirdailylivesandbusinessesandseethelargerworld.

Samsuddin's newspaper distribution agency was the only one inRameswaram.Therewereabouta thousandliteratepeople in the town,andhedelivered newspapers to all of them. The papers carried news about theIndependence Movement that was heading towards a crescendo at the time.These news items would be read and discussed with great gusto amongeveryone. Therewould also be news from thewar front, aboutHitler and theNaziarmy.Ofcourse, thereweremanymundanematters too, likeastrological

referencesorbullionrates,whichwereconsultedwithutmostinterest.TheTamilpaperDinamaniwasthemostpopularofallthesepapers.

ThewaythepapersreachedRameswaramwasquiteunique.TheycamebymorningtrainandwerekeptatRameswaramstation.Fromtheretheyhadtobecollectedandsenttoallthesubscribers.ThiswasSamsuddin'sbusinessandhemanagediteffortlessly.However,asWorldWarIIraged,wenolongerremainedisolated from the world, and it affected my life and the newspaper deliverybusinessinastrangenewway.

The British government had placed a number of sanctions and rations ongoods.Something likea stateofemergencynowprevailed in thecountry.Ourlargefamilyfeltthedifficultiesacutely.Food,clothes,theneedsofthebabiesofthe household, all became difficult to procure and provide for. In our familytherewerefivesonsanddaughters,aswellasmyfather'sbrothers'families.Mygrandmother and mother had to stretch every resource to the utmost to keepeveryonefed,clothedandingoodhealth.

Asthedifficultiesofthewarstartedaffectingus,Samsuddincameupwithaproposal that excited and delighted me tremendously. One fallout of theconditionswas that the rail stop at Rameswaram station had been done awaywith.Whatwouldhappentoourpapersthen?Howweretheytobecollectedandthendistributedtoallthepeopleofthetownwhowerelookingforwardtotheirdaily dose of news? Samsuddin found a way out. The papers would be keptready in large bundles. As the train chugged down the Rameswaram–Dhanushkodi track, they would be flung out on to the platform. And that iswhere I came in. Samsuddin offered me the enjoyable job of catching thesebundles of papers being thrown from the moving train and then taking themaroundtownfordistribution!

My enthusiasm knew no bounds. I was only eight, but I was going tocontributeinameaningfulwaytothehouseholdincome!FormanydaysIhadnoticedtheamountoffoodonmymother'sandgrandmother'splatesbecominglesser and lesser as they divided the portions between all of us. The childrenwere always fed first and I don't remember any of us ever going hungry.Obviously,thewomenwerecompromisingontheirnutritionforus.IagreedtoSamsuddin'sofferwithalacrity.

However,mynew jobhad tobe fitted intomy regular routine.Mystudiesand school had to continue as before, and the delivery business had to beaccommodatedamidstalltheseotheractivities.Amongmysiblingsandcousins,Ihadshownanearlyaptitudeformathematics.Myfatherhadarrangedformetotake tuitions from our mathematics teacher. However, my teacher had acondition that I, along with the four other students whom he had accepted,

neededtoreachhishomeatdawnafterhavingtakenabath.Soforayear,whichwasthedurationofthetuition,Istartedmydaywhileitwasstilldarkoutside,withmymothershakingmeawake.Sheherselfwouldhaverisenbeforemeandgotmybathready.Shewouldthenhelpmebatheandsendmeonmywaytomyteacher'shome.ThereIwouldstudyforanhourandreturnby5a.m.BythenmyfatherwouldbereadytotakemetotheArabicSchoolnearby,whereIlearnttheKoranSharif.

Aftermy lessonon theKoranSharifwasover, Iwould sprint away to therailwaystation.ThereIwouldwait,hoppingfromonelegtotheother,eyesandearskeenlyopenforsignsoftheoncomingtrain.Surprisingly,unlikemosttrainsthesedays,theMadras–DhanushkodiMailwasrarelydelayed!Soon,theenginesmokewouldbe visible in the distance.Thehornwouldbe tooted loudly andwitha thunderous roar, the trainwouldpass through the station. Ihadworkedout the best spot from which to keep an eye out for the flying newspaperbundles.Likeclockwork,theywouldbetossedoutontotheplatform.Thetrainwouldthenhuffandpuffaway,Samsuddin'spersoninthetrainwouldwaveouttomeandasthetrainreceded,itswhistlegrowingfaint,myjobwouldbegin.

Ithenpickedupthebundles,dividedthemupintobatchesaccordingtotheneighbourhoods inwhich the papers had to be distributed and off Iwent. Forabout an hour I tore around Rameswaram, delivering the papers to everyone.SoonIbegantoidentifypeoplebythepaperstheyread.Manywouldbewaitingforme,andtherewouldbealwaysbeafriendlywordortwo.SomewouldtellmetohurrybackhomesoIwouldnotbelateforschool!Ithinkmostenjoyedbeinghandedtheirpapersbyacheerfuleightyearold.

Ourtownbeingontheeastcoast,bythetimetheworkwasoverat8a.m.,thesunwouldbehighupinthesky.NowIheadedbackhome,wheremymotherwaitedwithbreakfast.A simplemealwouldbe served, but howhungry Iwasusually! My mother made sure I ate every morsel before sending me off toschool.Butmyworkdidnotendthere.

Intheevening,afterschoolwasover,IwoulddotheroundsofSamsuddin'scustomersagain,collectingdues.ThenIwouldmeethim,sohecouldworkouttheaccountsoftheday.

At that time, sitting somewhere near the sea, with the breeze blowing in,JalalluddinorSamsuddinwouldfinallyopenuptheday'spaper.Allofuswouldpore over the black type of theDinamani.One of themwould read aloud thenewsitems,andslowlythelargeroutsideworldwouldenterourconsciousness.Gandhi,Congress,Hitler,PeriyarE.V.Ramasamy,theirwordsandexhortationswould hang in the evening air. I would trace the photos and words with myfingers,wonderingwhatitmustbeliketobeoutthereinthelargerworldwith

allofthem.Maybe,Ithoughttomyself,onedayIwouldgotothebigcitieslikeMadras,BombayandCalcutta.Whatwould I say if I evergot tomeetpeoplelikeGandhiandNehru?Butsuchthoughtsweresooninterruptedbythecallsofmyplaymates,andthenfordinner.Therewashomeworktobedone,andevenaneightyearoldhasonlythatmuchenergytospend.By9p.m.Iwouldbefastasleep,asthenextdaymorestudiesandthelifeofaworkingmanlayinstore.

Thisroutinecontinuedforaboutayear. In thatoneyearofrunningaroundwiththepapers,Igrewtallerandbrowner.IalsolearntthatIcouldnowjudgequiteaccuratelythedistancesIcouldcoveratasprintwithabundleofpapersinmyhand,andhencecouldtimemyarrivalatvariouslocalitiesatthesametimeeveryday.IcouldcalculateinmyheadtheamountowedtoSamsuddinbyeachofhissubscribers,andcouldreeloffthenamesofthosewhohadnotpaidupthatday.Mostly,Ilearntthattobeaworkingmanmeantyouhadtobeupandreadytofacetheday,whateverelsemayhappentoyou.Homework,tuition,prayers,allcarriedon,buttheMadras–DhanushkodiMailwouldnotwaitforme—Ihadtobepresentatthestationatthecorrecttimeandatthecorrectpointtocatchthebundles as they came flying in. It was my first brush with taking up aresponsibilityandseeingtoitthatIkeptmywordtomycousinSamsuddin,nomatterwhat.ItwasalsoamostenjoyabletimeandIlovedeverymomentofit,notwithstandingtheintensetirednesseverynight.Mymotheroftenfrettedatmytakingupthisadditionalworkandthetollitwastakingonme,butIshookmyheadandsmiledather.Knowingthatmyearningsweresomehowhelpingusall,andthatshewassecretlyproudofmeforhavingtakenontheroleofaworkingmanattheageofeight,keptmegoingwithasmileonmyface.

ychildhoodtownofRameswaramisasmall island. Itshighestspot is thetopofahillcalledGandamadanaParvatham.Standingthere,youcouldsee

thewholeofRameswaramstretchedoutaroundyou—lushgreencoconutpalmsswaying everywhere, the sea in the distance and the looming gopuram of theRamanathaswamyTemplepresidingover theskyline.Itwasaquiet townthen.Thepeoplemade their livingfromeitherfishingorcoconutfarming,andfromthetourismthatoccurredduetothepresenceofthetemple.Rameswaramisoneof the holiest pilgrimage spots for many Indians, and the town was almostalwaysfullofpilgrimsandtourists.

The small local population consisted of mostly Hindu households, with asprinkling of Muslims like us, and Christians too. Each community lived inhealthy contentment next to the other. The divisions and vicissitudes of theoutside world rarely made their way here. The daily papers brought news ofupheavals and communal fault lines being drawn elsewhere, but here, lifecontinuedatitsage-oldleisurelypace.

Thisquietharmonyhadbeeninplaceforgenerations.Myfatherlovedtotellus the story of our great-great-grandfather, who once saved the idol of theRamanathaswamy Temple. The story went that on a certain festival day, thevigraha,oridol,wouldbetakenoutofthesanctumsanctorumandcarriedinaprocession around the temple precincts. The temple has a number of tanksdottingit,andtheidolwastakenaroundtheperipheryofthesetankstoo.Duringone such procession, in a sequence of events no one remembers clearly anymore, the vigraha fell into the tank.What a calamity that was! People stoodrootedinhorror, imaginingthewrathofthegodsfallinguponthemverysoon.One person, however, did not lose his presence of mind—my great-great-grandfather. He leapt into the tank and retrieved the idol in no time. Thegratitudeofthepriestsandothertempleofficialswasoverwhelming.Yes,hewasaMuslim.Andyes, caste and religious puristswould be horrified at themostsacredelementofthetemplebeinghandledbysomeonenotauthorizedtodoso,butnoneof thesefeelingswerearticulated.Instead,mygreat-great-grandfatherwastreatedlikeahero.Thetemplealsomadeaproclamationthatfromnowon,atthefestival,thetemplewouldgiveMudalMarayadaitohim.Thiswasararehonourforanyone,letaloneforsomeonefromadifferentreligion.Itmeantthatoneachsuchfestivalday, the templewouldfirsthonour,orgivemarayadai tomygreat-great-grandfather.This traditionwent on for years andyears and themarayadaiwouldbegiventomyfathertoo.

Thissenseofharmonycontinuedintolateryears.LikeIhavementionedinanotherchapter,myfatherhadaferrybusinessinwhichpilgrimsweretakentoDhanushkodi.Ourferryservicewasusedbythetempletoo.

My father was the imam of the Rameswaram mosque. He was a deeplydevoutmanwith complete and utter faith in theKoran.He inculcated all thehabitsofagoodMusliminhischildrenandindeedinhisentirefamily.Forthepeopleofthetown,hewasaphilosopherandguide—someonetheycouldturntowiththeirproblems,whetherspiritualorotherwise.

One of his closest friendswas the priest of theRamanathaswamyTemple,Pakshi Lakshmana Sastry. Sastrygal was not only the priest but also a verylearned man, well versed in Vedic knowledge. I still remember his visageperfectly.Hewasalwaysdressedinthetraditionalattireofatemplepriest,inhisdhoti and angavastram. On his head he sported the mandatory tuft of theBrahmins,thekudumi.Hewasoneofthekindest,mostgentlemenIknew.

Therewas a third personwhowas as important in the spiritual life of ourlittlecommunityandthatwasFatherBodal,thepriestofthelonechurchinthetown.HewasasinvolvedinthewelfareofthechurchgoersofRameswaramasmyfatherandSastrygal,andasconcernedabouttheneedforharmonyandpeaceinRameswaram.

Thememoryofthesethreelearnedmenisstilletchedinmymind.Icanstillseethem—oneinhisturbanandimam'scloak,anotherinhisdhotiandthethirdin his cassock. They met every Friday evening, at around four-thirty, anddiscussedmattersofreligionandthehappeningsofthetown.Sometimespeoplecametovisit themat that timewithspecific issues toberesolved,or the threemen kept each other apprised of anything that could potentially threaten thepeace among the people and together, they tried toworkoutwaysof clearingmiscommunication or scotching rumours before they assumed dangerousproportions.Thefundamental requirement forpeace—effectivecommunicationamongsectionsofthepeople—wasalwayskeptalivebythesethreepatriarchs.Theirdiscussionsrangedoveranumberoftopics—theFreedomMovementthatwas taking the country in an entirely newdirection, the attitude of theBritishgovernment to the calls of the nationalists and how all this affected us,concernedthemdeeply.Theyquietlysoothedthesocietyaroundthem,makingitaharmoniouswholewhereeveryonecouldhaveanopportunitytospeakfreelytothem.

Oneincidentfrommychildhoodbroughtthisrealityclosetomylife.Iwasthenabouteightyearsold, andstudying in the third standard.Mybest friendswere Ramanadha Sastry, Aravindan and Sivaprakasan. All of them wereBrahmins,andRamanadhan,infact,wasPakshiLakshmanaSastry'sson.Weled

theusuallifeofschoolboys,spendingmostofthedaytogetherintheclassroomandoutside.Likeallgoodfriends,ourdaywasincompleteif,atanytime,oneofuswasabsentandwecouldnotsharewitheachother theminutedetailsofallthatisimportantforboysofthatage.Intheclassroom,wesatnearoneanotherandRamanadhanandIsharedthesamebench.

BeforeIproceedwiththemainstory,Iwouldliketosketchaportraitofmyschool,whichholdssuchbeautifulmemoriesofdaysofinnocenceandmischiefandlearningforme.Itwascalled theRameswaramPanchayatPrimarySchoolandIattendeditfrom1936to1944.Itwassituatedneartheseashore,andwasnotthemoststurdybuildingcertainly!Partsofitwerebuiltwithbricksbuttheroofwasthatched.ButitwastheonlyschoolinRameswaraminthosedaysandall thechildrenof the townstudiedthere.Wewere400boysandgirls in total.Yes,thisschoolhadanunimpressivebuildingandscantyamenitiesbutitwasaninterestingplacenonetheless.Theteachers,particularlythosewhotaughthistory,geographyand science,were lovedby the students.Why?Because they lovedteachingandensuredthateachoneofusexcelledinourstudies.Togiveequalattentiontothefifty-fivechildrenineachclasscouldnothavebeenaneasytask.Theydidnotwantustoonlyearngoodmarksinourexams,theyalsowantedusto develop a love for the subjects they taught us.We saw the light of purityshininginourteachers.

Evenifonestudentwasabsentforaday, theywouldgototheparentsandenquireaboutthechild'swelfareandthereasonforhisnotcomingtoschool.Ifone of us got highmarks, the teacher would be the first person to go to ourhomesandsharetheinformationwithourparents.Myschoolwasahappyplace.Allofuswhostartedour schooling therecompletedour studies till theeighthstandard.Idon'trememberevenasinglepersondroppingout.Thesedays,whenI visit schools, both big and small, all across the country, I tell them that truequality does not come from a great building or great facilities or greatadvertisements. It happens when education is imparted with love by greatteachers.

Toreturntomystory,schoolsofthattime,particularlysmalloneslikemine,didnothaveuniforms.Wewere free towearany traditional itemsrequiredbyour religion.My friendRamanadhan sported a tuft, orkudumi, like his father.(Later,whenhegrewup,hetoobecamethepriestofthetempleafterhisfather.)Iwenttoschoolwearingmylittlewovenskullcap,likeallMuslimboysofthetown.Notoncehadanyofuseithernoticedorremarkeduponthis.

Whenwewereinthethirdstandard,therewasagreatexcitementinourlives—wehadanewteacheratschool.Inasmallself-containedcommunity,thiswasa matter of much excitement and discussion. We students were agog with

anticipationtoknowwhatournewteacherwouldbelike.Wouldhebestrictorlenient?Quick-temperedorpatient?Wecouldnotwaitforhimtostartteachingus.Andthefirstdayhecametotheclassroom,alloureagernessspilledforth.

The teacher was also a Hindu, a Brahmin. As soon as he entered theclassroom, he cast a quick appraising eye over us all, perhaps taking in thediverseattireofthisbunchofboys.Today,Ithinkhemusthavemissednoticingthe bright eyes and eager smiles of the children—strangely, those are the firstthings that strikemewhen confronted by a roomful of children!But our newteacherwasquick togetdowntobusiness.Hewalked to thefrontof theclassandthefirstpeoplehiseyessettledonwereRamanadhanandI.Wewerethestarpupils, always eager to learn and participate, and sat right in front. His eyeslingered on my cap and on Ramanadhan's tuft. A look of annoyance, evendisbelief, washed over his face. Without giving any reason, he demanded toknowmyname.WhenI toldhim, Iwasperemptorily told togathermy thingsandmovetothebackrow,forreasonsknownonlytohim.

Ifeltsad,evenhumiliated.Iwonderedwhythishadhappened.Ramanadhanwasintears.IstillrecallhislargeeyesawashwithtearsasIpickedupmybooksandmovedawayfromhim.

Butneitherofuswasreadytoletthisgounreported.ThatverydayItoldmyfatheraboutit,andRamanadhantoldhisfathertoo.Themenwereshockedanddismayed. Thiswent against everything they hadworked for!A teacher,whowassupposedtobeimpartingknowledgeandopeningupourminds,wasinsteaddoingjusttheopposite.Wehadrarelyseenthesetwomild-manneredgentlemensoagitated.Theyimmediatelyspoketooneanotherandconfirmedthedetailsoftheincident.

ThenextFriday,whenduskwasfalling,theymetasusual.FatherBodalwaspresent too. The teacher had been summoned, and presented himself. In thegatheringdarkness,asdayturnedintonight,myfatherandSastrygaltoldhiminnouncertaintermsthatthescourgeofreligiousdivisions,whichwasdisturbingIndia'sfabricinotherpartsof thecountry,wouldnotbeallowedtogrowhere.They would not allow children to be segregated; they would certainly nottolerateanyonewhomade religionadivisive factor insteadofbeing inclusive;and theywouldnever let this infect themindsof theyoungestmembersof thesociety.

Allofthiswasconveyedtoourteacherwithdignityandcourtesy.Wouldhewant toseehimselfasamanofknowledge towhomthefutureof thecountrycouldbeentrusted,hewasasked.Ourteacherstoodsilent,thinking.Thenfinallyhespoke.Yes,heacknowledged,hehadtriedtoseparatethetwoboys.Andno,hehadnotbothered to think through theconsequencesofhisactionswhenhe

did so. This was the way he had seen society being structured around himalways,andhewasjustblindlyfollowingtherules.Noonehadevertaughthimotherwise,ormadehimseethefutilityofsuchdivisions.Hepromisedtorectifythewronghehaddonetheverynextday.Andhediddoso.

Thiswas how I had a first-hand experience of theway the three religiouselders settled a matter firmly and openly. They made the problem go awaywithout letting it grow and fester—the essence of good management in anysituation,Ilaterlearnt.

Itwasalso the firstglimmerofa thought thathas shapedmesince: that itmust always be our inner convictions and strength of beliefs that dictate ouractions.Externalforces,temptationsandcounselswillalwaysbedinnedintous,butthoseamonguswhocanstanduptowhatweinnatelybelievetobegoodandrightwillfinallybeatpeacewithourselves.Ourcountryneedscitizenswhotrusttheir individuality, who cannot be manipulated by people with unscrupulousagendas.

Asfarasthefactofmyreligionisconcerned,fromRameswaramIfollowedmydestinythattookmeintotheworldofscienceandtechnology.Iwasalwaysabelieverinscience,butthespiritualatmosphereofmyyouthhasstayedwithme.Iwell understanddifferentpointsofview,particularly aboutGod. I have readandassimilated theknowledgecontained indifferent religious texts—from theKorantotheGitatotheHolyBible.Togethertheyhavemademeaproductofthisuniquelandofours,asyncreticcreationofthebestofourdiversetraditions.AndifeverIamaskedwhatitisliketobeaMusliminthiscountry,Icanpointto the people I grew upwith—my father, Sastrygal and Father Bodal, indeedmany others like themwhom Imet later—who have upheld the religious andmoralstandardsofournation.Intheirownwaystheyhavecontributedtomakeours a country we can justly proclaim to be a multi-religious, multi-ethnicnation, where there is space for each of us to breathe. Yes, we have deepproblems and fissures being created daily, but if the generations to comeremember the stories of people likemy great-great-grandfather and the imamand priests of the Rameswaram of long ago, I am sure we will continue tosurviveandthriveasaseculardemocracyforever.

anyyearsago,Iwroteapoemcalled'MyMother',whichbeganwiththeselines:Seawaves,goldensand,pilgrims'faith,RameswaramMosqueStreet,allmergeintoone,MyMother!My growing up years, which I now remember with such nostalgia, are

suffusedwith thememoryofRameswaram, and the twopeoplewhowere thecentreofmyworldthen—myfatherandmother.Ourswasamiddle-classfamily.My fatherhadhisown smallbusinessbesidesbeing the imamof themosque.Mymother,Ashiamma,camefromafamily,oneofwhomhadsometimeinthepastbeengiventhetitleof'Bahadur'bytheBritish.

Mymother was a gentle, down-to-earth, pious woman. She was a devoutMuslim, like my father, and when I think of her I cannot but remember hersayinghernamazfivetimesaday,bendingandpraying,thelookonherfaceoneofextremedevotionandpeacefulness.Shehadalargefamilytolookafterandthatwaswheremostofherenergywent.OurfamilyconsistedofmysiblingsandI,aswellasourrelatives,likemygrandparentsandmyuncles,allofwholivedinthesamehouse.Providingforeveryonewasalwaysastretchontheresources.Itwasnotatimeofplentyforanyone,leastofallforus.Wehadagoodsteadyincome frommy father's businesses—his coconut groves and ferry business—butthatjustaboutcoveredourexpenses,andtherewasneveranyquestionaboutindulginginluxuries.

Inthesecircumstances,mymotherremainedtheidealpartnerformyfather.Shesavedandunderstood frugality,yet therewasnevera traceof irritationoranger inherabout thewayof life thatweled.Almostdaily,notonlywerethemanymembersofthefamilyfedandlookedaftersatisfactorily,weusuallyhadumpteenpeopledropbywhowouldbetoldtostaybackandeatwithus.NowthatIthinkaboutit,Ifeelthatshecookedandservedforasmany—ifnotmore—guests as there were members of the household. Yet, this was accepted asnormal,andnoonereallyremarkedonitorthoughtmuchaboutit.SuchwastheIndianconceptofhospitalityonceuponatime.

Mine was a happy, secure childhood. One of my earliest memories is ofeatingwithmymother, sitting on the kitchen floor.We ate off banana leaves.Rice,aromaticsambar,homemadepicklesandcoconutchutneywerethestaple

foods. Her cooking was deceptively simple and till today, I have not eatensambarthatbalancesthetartandthespicytastesasdelicatelyashersdid.It isagaininconnectionwithfoodthatanotheranecdotefrommychildhoodcomestome.

During theWorldWar II years, food was being rationed and there was ageneralshortageofnearlyeverything.Mymotherandgrandmotherdidtheirbesttotideoverthosedays,stretchingthesuppliesasmuchastheycould,cuttingoutanywastage,oftenreducingtheportionsontheirplatessothatthechildrenhadenoughtoeat.Oneday,mymotherhadmadechapattis insteadofrice. Isatatmy place on the floor and ate with great relish as she rolled out one freshchapattiafteranother.TheykeptcomingandIkepteating.Iwasahungrylittleboyafterall.WhenIhadfinallyhadmyfill, Ipickedupmybananaleafplateandwalkedawaytowashup.Later thatnight,myelderbrother tookmeasideandscoldedmeforthefirsttime.'Howcouldyoubesoblind,Abdul?'hestarted.

AtfirstIhadnoideawhyIwasbeingpulledup.Istareduncomprehendinglyat him. Then he softened and explained, 'Did you not notice that there is justenoughforallofustoeattwo–threechapattiseach?Ammawillneversaynotoyou,butbecauseyoukepteating,shekeptservingyou,andtonightshewillgohungry,becausenowthereisnothingleftforhertoeat.'

Thatmomentof shame,of heartbreak formybelovedmother,who lookedfrail,yetwasthetoughestwomanIknew,brokemyheart.Icriedtomyself,toomortified to showmy face to anyone, and itwas only after a few days that Icouldbringmyselftolookherinthefaceagain.Whatalessonthatwasformetonever forget theneedsof thosearoundme!Her lovedroveher to shareherfoodwithmewithout a second thought, and aftermy brother showedme thetruth, I could never again eat without making sure there was enough to goaround—especiallyformymotherandgrandmother.

Ilefthomefairlyearlyinlife,asIwantedtopursuemystudiesinadifferent,largertown.Asaresult,Icouldnotremainmymother'slittleboyfortoolong,unlikemany ofmy friends. But her generosity and caring spirit stayed inmyheartalways.

Again,during theWorldWar IIyears,when Iwasabouteightyearsold, IhavedescribedhowItookthejobofanewspaperdeliveryboy.Mydaybeganwell before dawn, when I had to go formy tuitions,myKoran class, domynewspaper rounds, go to school and then return home well into the evening,whenIhadtostudyforthenextday.Inallthis,mymotherstoodbymelikearock.Earlyinthemorning,shewouldwakeupwellbeforeme,drawthewaterformybathandthencallme.Mymothersawmeoffandwouldbewaitingformetocomebackanhourortwolater,whenIwouldhavetogowithmyfatherto

theArabicSchool formyHolyKoran lessons.As Iwent fromplace to placeduringthedaytime,allIhadtimeforwerethemealsthatwouldbelaidoutformepromptly.IknewthatmanytimesmymotherdecreasedherownsharesothatIcouldhaveenough.WhenIoncequestionedher,sheonlysmiledandsaid,'Youareagrowingchild.Youhavesomuchtodoall throughtheday.This iswhatmothers look out for, don'tworry aboutme.' In the eveningswhen I returnedhomehungryand tired, shewouldagainhelpmecleanupandprepare for thenextday.

Amongallmysiblings,Iwasalwaysgivenprecedenceintakingaplacebyher.Once,IrememberIfellasleepwithmyheadinherlap.Shesatquietly,herhandssoftlycaressingmyhairandcheeks,hertouchthemostpreciousbalmformytiredness.Unknowntome,fromsomewheredeepwithin,tearssprangupinmyheart.Before I could stop them, theystarted flowingdown.Myeyeswerestillclosed,yet the tears ran.Theydroppedon tomyfoldedkneesandseepedintomymother'ssari.Butshedidnotstophercaresses.Sheknewexactlywhatwasgivingrisetothosetears—theextremetirednessofaboysuddenlytryingtobe aman.Her fingers ran tenderly throughmyhair, comforting, soothing andunderstanding.

This simple lady, born and raised in a small southern Indian town, wasperhapslikemanyothermothersinourlandandbeyond.Shedidnotstepoutofthehouseandtakepartintheaffairsofthetown.Shedidnotmakeacareerinthewaywethinkofitnowadays.Herrealmofworkremainedthehomeandthefamily. Yet, within that, she served everyone and God with utmost devotion,selflessnessandpiety. It is this lesson that Ihavecarriedfromher life—that itdoesnotmatterhowlargeorsmallyoursphereofactivityis,whatcountsfinallyisthecommitmentthatyoubringtothejobthathasbeenordainedforyouinthislife.

My father lived to the ageof102.Whenhepassed away,he left behindafamilythatincludedfifteengrandchildren.Hispassingawayaffectedmedeeply.IcamehomefrommyworkatThumbaandsatbymymotherforalongtime.When I had to leave, she blessedme in a chokedvoice. Iwas in the thick ofbuildingtheSLV-3rocket,andworkbeckonedme.Sheneveronceaskedmetostayback.ShouldIhavedoneso?ShouldInothavebeensopreoccupiedwithmy work, and instead spent time with this old lady, who I was never to seeagain?Ihaveaskedmyselfthis,anddonothaveananswer.Mymotherpassedawaysoonaftermyfatherdid.Itwasperhapsfittingthatshewouldnotlivelongalone,withoutthemanwhosesideshehadneverleftforovereightyyears.

AfterIreceivedthenewsofherpassing,asImademywaytoRameswaram,memoriesofherassailedme.The twopeoplewhohadcreatedme,not justas

their child, but moulded my thoughts and personality, were now no more. Iwouldhavetoliveouttherestofmylifewithouttheirguidance.ButIknewonecouldnothavelivedlongwithouttheother,andthatiswhatcomfortedmeasIreturned to themosquewhere I had learnt to praywithmy father. The azaanfromthatmosqueonceusedtobringallofustogether—ourparentsleadingallthechildrenintheprayers.Nowitisasweetreminderofabeautifulchildhood,ofparents lost to time,ofamotherwhounderstoodherboy'sdeepest feelings,eveniftheyremainedburiedinhisheart.

♦

MySisterZohra

OurswasalargefamilyandIwasoneoftensiblings.Besidesmyownbrothersandsisters,cousinsandchildrenofdistantrelativeswerealwayspresent in thehouse and we grew up never knowing the meaning of boredom. There wasalwaysatreetoclimb,agametoplayoranexcursiontoplan.Wewereahappybunchof children—squabbling and thenmakingup, sometimes beingnaughtyandalwaysreadytohelpeachotherout.

Mysister,Zohra,wasoneoftheolderchildren.Shegrewupasmanygirlsinhercircumstancesdid.Shewenttoschoolandstudied,butshewasalsoexpectedto help as much as possible around the house. In fact, she was perhaps mymother'sclosestcompanion.Thebondofmotheranddaughterchangedintothatof friendshipas they toiled for the family, cookingandcleaning, lookingafterthe young ones, tending to their scraped knees and dripping noses. Like mymother,she,too,hadasoftspotforme.ItwasperhapsbecauseIwasabitofadreamer even then. I was not as boisterous as my companions, and oftenpreferred to curl upwith a paper or a book, rather thanplan a prankwith theother boys. Zohra looked out for me as much as she could so that the softinnocenceofherlittlebrotherwasnotdestroyed.

When I was quite young, a cousin called Ahmed Jalalluddin entered ourlives.Hecamelikeabreathoffreshairtothetinycommunity.Hehadstudieduptomiddlegrade,couldreadandwriteEnglish,andmorethanthat,hisvisionoflifewasopenandlarge,readytolookbeyondtheshoresofRameswaram.Hestayedclosebyandbecameapartofthedailylifeofthefamilyveryquickly.

Jalalluddintookagreatlikingtome.HeindulgedmycuriositiesanddidhisbesttofindanswerstothequestionsIasked.IwasalwaysfullofquestionsaboutthethingsIsawaroundme—whydobirdsfly,howisraincreated,howdotrain

enginesworkandmanymoresuchthings.JalalluddinrecognizedthefactthatIwould soonoutgrow the school inRameswaram.Hediscussedwithmy fatherthe need to send me to Ramanathapuram, where there was a bigger, betterschool.

My life took its course, and after completing my schooling atRamanathapuram, I decided to move to Madras (now Chennai) to studyengineering at the Madras Institute of Technology (MIT). In the interveningyears, Zohra had married Jalalluddin. The two of them were the biggestsupportersofmydreamsandambitions.ZohrawasdeterminedthatIgivewingsto my aspirations and Jalalluddin remained my mentor. Yet, our financialsituationremainedthesame.Ourhouseholdwasstilldependentontheearningsfromthebusinessesstartedbymyfather.Howcouldtheyaffordtopaythesumof 600 thatwas theadmissionfeeatMIT?While today thismayseemlikeaverysmallamount,atthetime,forus,itwasequivalenttonearlyalakhrupees.

ThatwaswhenIsawthetruegritinmysister.Nothingwouldstopherlittlebrother,shetoldherhusband.Myparentshadsavedandgotsomepiecesofgoldjewellery made for her. Traditionally, in Indian households, the women maywearthejewelleryoncertainoccasions,butmanyalsousethemasasafeguard—a kind of insurance policy for rainy days when there are unexpected cashrequirements.Without a moment's further thought, and not worrying that thejewellerymayonedaybeneededforherownfamily,forshewasnowamarriedwoman, Zohra announced that she would use the pieces as guarantee with amoneylenderandborrowthesumrequiredformyadmission.

Iwasdeeply touchedbyhergesture. Itwasoneof themostselfless thingsanyonehadeverdoneforme.AtthetimeofneedZohrahadthesolutiontotheproblem, and she gave what she could with a full heart. She knew that herbrotherwouldworkhard.Shekeptfaithinmyabilities—thatIwouldqualifyasanengineer.Hergoldbanglesandchainweremortgaged,themoneycameandIwasadmittedtoMIT.IvowedatthetimetoreleaseherjewelleryfrommortgageassoonasIstartedearning.Ieventuallydiddosobystudyinghardandearningascholarship.

Like my mother, Zohra lived out her life in Rameswaram. She was asefficient,cheerfulanduprightasherandthetwoofthemtogethersymbolizeforme the resilience and resourcefulness of the ordinary Indian woman. Thiswomanisapersonwhocannotbecoweddowntoolongbyhercircumstances.Often,shegoesthroughlifewithoutrecognizingherowndreamsandambitions.Many times she thinks of the ambitions of her husband, or the welfare andprogressofherchildren.Shewill thinkofher father,brothers, sisters firstandplace herself behind everyone else. Where are her own dreams, I wonder?

Destiny,tradition,situationswilltestheragainandagain.Shewillhavetoworryandcompromise,saveandinnovate.Yet,shewillfindawaytoguideherfamilyandherdearonesoutofanycrisis,andshewilldosowithsuchlovethatitwillinundateyourheart.

few remarkable people have appeared at critical times in my life andproceeded tomouldor reorientmywaysof thinking;sometimes theyhave

evenchangedthecourseofmylife.TothesementorsIamalwaysgratefulandrememberthemmoreandmoreeachday.Now,ifIcouldhaveallthetimeintheworld,IknowwhatIwoulddo;Iwouldspendtimeinrememberingthesepeoplewhoshapedmylife.Theyarelikethesunthatwarmsthefaceandthewindsthatembrace.OnesuchpersoninmylifewasAhmedJalalluddin.

When Iwas still ayoungboy,my fatherdecided tobuild aboat to start aferrybusiness.Iwasfascinatedwiththewaytheboatwastakingshape.Aseachplank of wood was slotted into its place and the outline of the boat becameclearer,Ifounditharderandhardertotearmyselfawayfromthatplacebythebeach where the boat was being built. Jalalluddin, who also lived inRameswaramandwouldhelpmyfather,wasthefirsttonoticemyinterestintheboat. Unlike the other adults, who were too busy going about their work, hewould spend some time chattingwithme every day.Wewould talk about theboat,howitshouldbebuiltandpaintedandalltheworkthatstillneededtogetdoneon it.Fromthereanunusualfriendshipgrewbetweenme—alittleboy—and Jalalluddin—amuch older,wiser person,whowas fifteen years senior tome.

Ourconversationsgraduallytookotherturns.Asdaysturnedintoyearsandboth of us grew older, Jalalluddin becamemy brother-in-law—hemarriedmysister Zohra. Our relationship took on more depth. What I remember mostdistinctlyfromthetimeareourwalksaroundRameswaramtown.Wewouldsetout almost every evening starting fromMosque Street, where our house waslocated,andwalktowardstheshoreofthesea.Thetownwouldbebusyatthetime, with pilgrims making their way to and from the temple. Our first haltwould be the Shiva temple, where our stepswould fall in with thosemakingtheircircumambulations.Astheysaidtheirprayers,somewouldbekneelingandtouching the ground after every few steps,while otherswould be helping oldparentsorrelativesperformthepilgrimage.Amongstthesepeople,ourthoughts,too,would turn towardsspiritualmatters,andourconversationwouldoftenbeaboutGod.

Jalalluddin'srelationshipwithGodwasslightlydifferentfromtheoneIwasusedtoseeinginmyfather.Myfatherwasapiousmanwhofollowedeveryruleofworship—notjustoutwardlybutasadeeplyfeltneedwithinhim.Sayingthenamaz and every other form of prayer was as much a part of his being as

breathingoreating.Jalalluddin,too,wasadevoutman.However,forhim,Godwas almost like a friend.He talked toGod, and presented all his problems toHim in thewayonedoes toa livingentity.Forhim, itwas inconceivable thatGod would not present a solution if Jalalluddin spoke about his dilemmas toHim.AswemadeourwaywiththepilgrimsandIwatchedthemperformtheirrituals,andlistenedtoJalalluddinatthesametime,inmymindthesetwofaithsmeldedintoone.WasitpossiblethatinthissereneatmosphereofRameswaramtheprayersofsomanyofthefaithful,utteredindifferenttonguesandbornfromvariousbeliefs,werereachingdifferentgods?Itcouldnotbe. Iwasconvincedthat theonewhoheardeveryoneoutwasacommonentity.But Ialsosecretlywondered ifmy friend had a special connection that allowed him to seeGodeverywhere,anditwasthatwhichlethimspeaksofreelytoHim.

Jalalluddinwasnotveryhighlyeducated.Hehadbeenabletocompletehiseducationtilltheeighthstandardonly,ashehadhadtostartworkinginordertoearnforhisfamily.ButhewasalsoamongthefewinRameswaramwithsomeknowledge of the English language. He could read and write English, andtherefore,wasingreatdemandamongtheresidentstowritetheirapplicationsorany other official letters. Seeing the respectwithwhich hewas treated by thetownspeople,Itoowantedtobelikehimandstudyasmuchaspossible.Onhispart, perhaps itwas because of his slightly better educational background thatJalalluddinwasamongthefirstpeopletonoticetheimmensecuriosityandthirstforknowledgethatflowedwithinme.InthosedaysIhadaninsatiableinteresttolearnmore about everything, and it was my brother-in-lawwho indulgedmyquestions.Ipliedhimwithmoreandmorequeriesandhewouldanswermeaspatiently as he could and with as much knowledge as he had gathered. Heopened my eyes when he talked about so many things that lay outside thepurview of our daily lives—nature, space, scientific discoveries, books andfamouspeople.

I have often pondered the question: what creates our personalities? Howmuchdoestheenvironmentplayapartandhowmuchofitisinborn?IfIlookbackatmylife,Icanputafingeronspecificqualitiesthatweretransmittedtomefromthoseclosest tome.FrommyparentsI learnthonesty,self-discipline,faith and kindness. And from my closest friends—Jalalluddin and my othercousin, Samsuddin—I learnt to recognize the fact that every human carriessomethingspecialwithinhimself.Thesemenweretheoneswhosawasparkinmeandencouragedandnurturedme.Theywerenotsophisticated; rather, theyhad a direct, intuitive approach to life. They often knew my questions andambitionsevenbeforeIhadbeenabletoarticulatethemtomyownself.Theycouldthendrawtheseoutfromwithinmeandhelpmesetmylife'sgoals.

AsIgrewup,JalalluddinwasamongthefirsttoencouragemetobreakawayfromtheconfinesofRameswaram.WhenIwantedtocontinuemystudiesinabiggerschool inadifferent town,hewas theonewhomade thearrangements,travelled with me to Ramanathapuram and saw me settled into the SchwartzHighSchoolthere.ForaboywhohadnotknownlifeoutsidetheplacewhereIhadgrownup,evenRamanathapuramwasabigchange.Imissedmyfamily,myfamiliar surroundings, my mother and her cooking. At that time it wasJalalluddinwhoinstilledinmethepowerofpositivethinking.HewouldtellmethatIneededtocontroltheseemotionsinordertofulfilmydesiresforabettereducation.Whenever I felthomesickandsad, I thoughtofhimandhiswords,and theygaveme the courage I needed toplunge into theunfamiliar life of apupillivinginaboardingschool.

Ateverystageofmylife,tillIbecameanadultintherealsenseoftheword—someonewhoisincontrolofhisownactions—thismanwalkedwithme.HepickedmeupwhenI faltered,encouragedmewhenI felt IcouldnotcarryonandstoodbymeasItookmyfirsttentativestepsintheoutsideworld.HowcanIforget the day when he and Samsuddin accompanied me to Bombay (nowMumbai),toSantaCruzairport,becauseIwasgoingtodosomethingnoonehadimaginedeventwentyyearsearlierinRameswaram—IwasgoingtotheUS,toNASA,onasix-monthtrainingprogramme.Ihadbecomeanengineerbythenandhadbeenacceptedasa rocketengineerby the IndianNationalCommitteeforSpaceResearch(INCOSPAR)whoweresendingmetotheUnitedStates.

JalalluddinandSamsuddinsawmeoffatSantaCruzairport.Mytrepidationabout travellingabroadwas reflected in theiranxietyaboutbeing inabigcitylikeBombay.Yet, they carried their dignity upon them like amantle. I recallseeing themat theairportgate,andfeeling theirpositivityandoptimismreachme inwaves.Theyweremenwho sawonly the good inme and had implicitfaithinmyfollowingthecorrectpathalways.Standingthere,Iwasovercomebymysentimentsandmyloveforthemandtearsfilledmyeyes.ThroughthemistofthetearsIheldontothem,andJalalluddinsaidtome,'Abdul,wehavealwayslovedyou,andwebelieveinyou.Weshallalwaysbeproudofyou.'HowcanIeverforgetthosewordsofencouragement?

InowthinkthatJalalluddinnotonlyheldmyhandsandtaughtmetowalktallinthisworld,healsotaughtmehowtolive.Igrewintoamanwithmyownideas and creative thought processes under his influence—an influence thatremainedwithmeevenwhen Imoved faraway fromhimandmyfamily,andmademywayintheworld.And,ifhetaughtmethewaysoflife,howcoulditbethathewouldnotteachmetheharshest,yetmostconstantfactoflife—death.

While I was working on the SLV-3 rocket project for the Indian Space

ResearchOrganisation (ISRO), news came tome one day thatmy brother-in-law,myfriendandguide,wasnomore.Itwasadeepshockforme.Jalalluddinwasnotoftheageforthis.WhenIgotthenewsIwasdumbstruck.Howcouldthishavehappened?Howcouldweallbealive,andthismanbenomore?InmyshockIrememberspeakingwordsthatmadelittlesense.Icouldnotthink,feelormoveforatime.FinallyIgatheredmyselftogether,andleavinginstructionswithmycolleague,ImadepreparationstoleaveforRameswaram.

As I travelledbackhome, inbuses thatwheezedandgroanedon the inter-cityroads,buffetedbypeopleandthewindblowinginfromtheopenwindows,amidst the chatter of fellow travellers, I felt myself to be completely alone.Perhaps there comes a time in each of our lives when we finally leave ourchildhoodselvesbehind—andthiswasmine.WithJalalluddin,apartofmealsopassed away.Gone foreverwas the boywhoneeded to be guided,who askedquestionsbythedozenandwhoknewthatwhateverhedid,therewasapairoflovinghandsalwaysreadytoholdhisownhandsandguidehim.WhenIclosedmyeyes,imagesfromlongagoflashedby—ofleavingforRamanathapuram,ofJalalluddinarrangingthemoneytobuymybooks,ofhimstandingatSantaCruzairport, tears glistening in his eyes—tears of unbearable pride that can be feltonlybythosewhohavetrulylovedandbroughtupachild.Isawhimwalkingwithme on the sandy shores of our little town, pointing out the stars and themoon,explainingwherethesunwentwhenitfinallysankintothesea.

Ireachedhometofindmysistergrievingpiteously.WithherwasmylittlenieceMehboob,herfathergonewellbeforehistime.Imetmyfather,whowasnowahundredyearsold,andyet,forthefirsttime,Ifeltthathehadreallyaged.Thegriefoflosinghisson-in-lawseemedtohaveshiftedsomethingwithinhim.Weputourdearfriendandsontorest.AndthewholetimeIcouldnotfindthetearstoshedathisgoing.ItwasasifIwaswalkinginadaze,throughafogofmemories.

Aftertheburial,myfather,thatmostperceptiveofmeneveninhisgreatoldage,heldmyhandsandsatmebesidehim.Forthefirst timeInoticedthathe,too, had not shed tears.He said tome, 'Abdul, do you not see how the Lordstrengthens the shadows? Had it been His will, He could have made themconstant.ButHemakesthesuntheirguide,littlebylittleHeshortensthem.Hehasmadethenightforus torest,andhassentJalalluddinintoa longsleep—adreamlesssleep,acompleterestofallhisbeingwithinsimpleunconsciousness.NothinghappensthathasnotbeenordainedbyAllahandinHimwewillhavetokeepourtrustandfaith.'

Isatbackandreflectedonmyfather'swisewords.Deathisnotsomethingtobe afraid of, and I have never seen it thatway.Yet, the sadness that it brings

cannotbeshruggedaway.Wewillgowhenourtimewillcome,butwhensomeof us go earlier than the others, like Jalalluddin, who did not live to see hischildrengrowintoadults,whodidnotgettoseethemmarriedorplayedwithhisgrandchildren,thesadnessthatwellsupwithintheheartisarealitythatonehastogoonlivingwith.

MyfriendAhmedJalalluddinwasanordinarymanformany.ButmyfriendandmentorAhmed Jalalluddinwas also a remarkableman.He brought aboutchangeandshaped themindsof thosearoundhimwith thesheerpowerofhislove,simplicityandunderstanding.Therearesuchremarkablemenineverycityandvillageinthiscountry.IwasluckythatIfoundhimsoneartomeandthathechose to graspmy handswhen he did in order tomakeme theman Iwouldbecomeoneday.

n my life, which has been long and eventful, I have seen great heights ofsuccess.Ihavebeenpartofventuresthathavecontributedtothegrowthofournation in the field of science and technology; I have also had the privilege ofoccupying the highest office in the country. There are many achievements tolookbackupon—someofmyowndoingandsomewhereIhadtheprivilegetobe part of teams, which were immensely talented. Yet, I firmly believe thatunless one has tasted the bitter pill of failure, one cannot aspire enough forsuccess.Ihaveseenbothsidesofthecoinandhavelearntlife'stoughestlessonswhen I have stared into the pit of despair that failure brings with it. Theselessons are well worth recounting and remembering, as they have helped meworkmywaythroughmanydifficultsituations.

One of the earliest such episodes from my life happened when I was astudentofaeronauticsatMIT.MydesignteachertherewasProfessorSrinivasan,whowasalso theheadof the institute.Once,wewereplaced in teamsof fourstudents each, andour teamhad todesigna low-level attackaircraft. Iwas incharge of coming up with the aerodynamic design.Weworked very hard forweeks. My teammates were designing all the other components, like thepropulsion,structure,controland instrumentation.Sinceourothercourseworkwasoveratthetime,wespentlonghoursdiscussingourideasandresearchingthem.Wewereallkeentoimpressourprofessorswithourproject.Theykeptaneyeontheprogressandafterafewdays,ProfessorSrinivasanaskedtoseethedesign I had created. When I showed it to him, he examined it with hischaracteristic critical eye. I stood by, waiting with bated breath to hear hisverdict.Istillrememberthewayhiseyebrowscrinkledashelookedatthepaperspreadoutinfrontofhim.Thenhestraightenedupandhisnextwordsstunnedme. 'Thisisjustnotgoodenough,Kalam,'hesaid.Heturnedsterneyesonmeandcontinued,'Iexpectedmuchbetterfromyou.ThisisdismalworkandIamdisappointedthatsomeonewithyour talenthascomeupwithworklike this.' Istared at the professor, dumbfounded. I had always been the star pupil in anyclassandhadnevereverbeenpulledupbyateacherforanything.Thisfeelingofembarrassmentandshamewasanewexperienceforme,andIdidnotlikeitonebit.TheprofessorshookhisheadsomemoreandtoldmethatIhadtoredothe entire design, starting from scratch and rethinking all my assumptions. Iagreedshamefacedly.Thenhebrokethenextbadnews.NotonlywasIsupposedtodotheworkagain,Ihadtofinishitinthreedays!'TodayisFridayafternoon,youngman.IwanttoseeaflawlessconfigurationdrawingbyMondayevening.

Ifyouareunable todoso,yourscholarshipwillbestopped.' Iwasevenmoredumbfounded now. The scholarshipwas the onlyway I could afford to be incollege.Without it I would have to stop my studies. My own ambitions, thedreams of my parents, my sister and Jalalluddin flashed before my eyes andseemedtorecedetoadistance.Itwasunthinkablethatthefuturecouldturnsobleakwithafewwordsspokenbymyprofessor.

Igot toworkrightaway,determinedtoprovemyself.Iskippeddinnerandremainedatthedrawingboardthroughthenight.Whereearlierthecomponentsofmydesignwere floating inmyhead,now theysuddenlycame togetherandtook on forms and shapes I couldworkwith. The concentratedwork I put inseemedtobrushawayallthecobwebsofthemind.Bythenextmorning,Iwasworking likeamanpossessed. I tooka shortbreak to eat and freshenup, andwentbacktoworkagain.BySundayevening,myworkwasnearlycomplete—anelegant,neatdesignthatIwasproudof.WhileIwasputtingmyfinaltouchesto it, I sensedapresence in the room. Itwas theprofessor, still dressed inhistenniswhites, on hiswayback from the club. I didn't knowhow longhe hadbeenstandingthere,watchingme.Now,asoureyesmet,hecameforward.Helooked critically at my work for manyminutes. Then he straightened up andsmiled.Tomyamazement,hehuggedmeaffectionately.Thenpattingmeontheback,hesaid,'IknewIwasputtingyouunderimmensepressurewhenIrejectedyourworktheotherday.Isetanimpossibledeadline—yetyouhavemetitwithworkthatIcanonlycalloutstanding.Asyourteacher,Ihadtopushyoutoyourlimits so that you could recognize your own true potential.'After twodays ofextreme dejection, those words were music to my ears and revived myconfidenceandself-belief.

ThatdayIlearnttwolessons:ateacherwhohashisorherstudent'sprogressinmindisthebestpossiblefriend,becausetheteacherknowshowtomakesurethatyouexcel.Andsecond, thereisnosuchthingasanimpossibledeadline.Ihaveworkedonmanytoughassignments,someofwhichhadthecountry'stopleaderswatchingovermywork,buttheassuranceIgainedinmycapabilitiesatMITthankstoProfessorSrinivasan,helpedmelaterinlifetoo.

AfterMIT, I startedmyworking life. Little did I know that even tougherlessonsweretofollow.IwenttoworkatHindustanAeronauticsLimited(HAL)inBangalore.ThereIlearntalotaboutaircraftandtheirdesignandtechnology.BynowIwasverysurethatIwantedacareer inflying.WhenIemergedasagraduateaeronauticalengineerfromHAL,Igottwojobopportunities.Onewasin the air force and another at the Directorate of Technical Development andProduction(DTD&P[Air])attheMinistryofDefence.Ireceivedinterviewcallsfromboth.ThefirstwasinDehraDunandthesecondinDelhi.Isetforthwith

greathopeinmyheart.My first close sight of an aircraft had been at MIT, where two

decommissionedaircraftwerekeptforthedemonstrationofvarioussubsystemstothestudents.Theyhadheldaspecialfascinationforme,andIwasdrawntothemagainandagain.Theyrepresentedformeman'sabilitytothinkbeyondhisboundaries,andtogivewingstodreams.Ihadchosenaeronauticalengineeringasmyareaofstudybecauseofmyfascinationforflying.Over theyearsIhadnurtured the hope to be able to fly; to handle amachine as it rose higher andhigherinthestratospherewasmydearestdream.

AsImademywayfromMadrastonorthIndiafor theinterviews,Iplayedthis dreamover and over again inmymind. Iwas finally on the threshold ofbecomingapilot!ThejourneyfromTamilNadutoDehraDunwasalongone—notjustgeographicallybutalsointermsofthedistanceIwouldtravelfrommyhumbleoriginstotheprizethatlayinthefoothillsoftheHimalayas—aplaceintheairforceasapilot.

IfirsthaltedinDelhiformyinterviewatDTD&P.Iwasconfidentandtheinterview was an easy one, not requiring me to push the boundaries of myknowledgetoofar.IspentaweekinDelhiandthenproceededtoDehraDunformyinterviewattheAirForceSelectionBoard.Here,Ishouldmentionthatatthetime,asayoungmaninmyearly twenties, Iwas justbeginning tounderstandhow to conduct myself in the wider world. When I had first moved fromRameswaramtothebiggercitiesformystudies,Iwasashy,tongue-tiedboy.Ihadtoworkhardtodevelopsomeassertivenessinmypersonality.Ididthisbytrying to communicatewith different people fromall kinds of backgrounds. Itwasnoteasyandthereweremanymomentsoffrustrationanddisappointment.However,bythetimeIfinishedmystudiesandheadedouttolookforajob,mypersonalitywasbetterdevelopedandIwasable toarticulatemythoughtswellenoughinEnglishandTamil.

To return to my interview at the Air Force Selection Board, as I startedanswering thequeriesput forth tome, I realized that alongwithqualificationsand engineering knowledge, they were also looking for a certain kind of'smartness'inthecandidate.Physicalfitnessandanarticulatemannerwerewhattheywereseeking. Igave itmybest. Ihadwanted this job for so longandsodeeplythatIwasdeterminedyetanxious,confidentandatthesametimetense.Finallytheresultswereannounced.Ihadstoodninthinabatchoftwenty-five.There were only eight places available. I had failed to realize my dream ofbecominganairforcepilot.

IstillremembertheacheinmyheartasIattemptedtomakesenseofwhathad happened. When a dearly held desire begins to break up, one can feel

nothingbutdespairandemptinessasonetriestocometotermswiththeendofadream.Icouldnotbeartobeindoorsafterseeingtheresult.Ihadtogooutforair and be in the open, because all aroundme thewalls seemed to close in. IwalkedaroundforawhiletillIreachedtheedgeofacliff.IstoodtherelookingdownattheshimmeringwatersofalakeandwonderedwhatIshoulddonext.Plans needed to be changed and priorities reassessed. I decided to go toRishikeshforafewdaysandseekanewwayforward.

I reachedRishikesh thenextmorning. I tookadip in theGanga—ariver Ihadheardsomuchabout,butwasseeingandexperiencingforthefirst timeinmylife.IhadbeentoldabouttheSivanandaAshramthatwaslocatedalittlewayup a hill. I walked there. As I entered I felt a strange vibration, a sense oftranquility that was like a balm for my restless soul. Sadhus were seated allaround, deep in meditation. I hoped that one among them would be able toanswerthequestionsthattroubledmeandsoothemyworries.IwasgrantedanaudiencewithSwamiSivanandahimself.MybeingaMuslimdidnotaffecthimin any way. Instead, before I could speak, he asked what had filled me withsorrow. I only fleetingly wondered how he knew about my sadness before Iembarkedonanexplanationoftherecentdevelopmentsinmylife.Helistenedcalmlyand thenwashedawaymyanxietieswithasmileofdeeppeacefulness.HisnextwordsweresomeofthemostprofoundIhadeverheard.HisfeebleyetdeepvoicestillresonateswhenIthinkofthem:

'Accept your destiny and go aheadwith your life.You are not destined tobecomeanairforcepilot.Whatyouaredestinedtobecomeisnotrevealednowbutitispredetermined.Forgetthisfailure,asitwasessentialtoleadyoutoyourdestined path. Search, instead, for the true purpose of your existence…SurrenderyourselftothewishofGod.'

That lessonmadeadeep impressiononmymind.Truly,why fightagainstdestiny?Thisfailure,Iwassure,waspartofalargerplanthatGodhadforme.IruminatedlongaboutthisasIwentbacktoDelhi.There,IfoundthatIhadbeenacceptedasseniorscientificassistantatDTD&P.Igaveupmydreamofmakingacareeroutofflying.Iunderstoodnowthattherewasplentyofotherworktobedone,andIwasgoingtoputmyheartandsoulintothejobthathadbeengiventome.

InthiswayIstartedmyworkinglife.Likeme,Iamsurealmosteverypersonwho sets out with a goal has had to face unexpected obstacles.We've had torethinkourgoals,reorientourpaths.Eachsetbackteachesusanewfacetoflifeandsomethingaboutourownpersonalities.Whenwetackleobstacles,wefindhidden reserves of courage and resiliencewe did not knowwe had.And it isonly when we are faced with failure do we realize that these resources were

alwaystherewithinus.Weonlyneedtofindthemandmoveonwithourlives.

henever I talk to theyouth anywhere in India, I am invariably askedonequestion: which are your favourite books? Even thoughmodern life has

changedmanyofourhabits, reading is one activity that is still popular inourcountry.Fromnewspapersandmagazinestobooks,thereisnodearthofreadingmatteravailabletous.ItishearteningthatwiththegrowthoftheliteracyrateinIndia, thedemandforbooksofdifferentkindshasgrown.Thisshows,I think,thatpeoplearenotjustlearningtoreadandwriteinschool.Theyarealsogettingeducatedand improving theirwaysof thinkingandsharpening theirpowersofunderstanding.Readinghelpstobuildtheseinvaluablequalitiesandthehabitofreadingcanneverbeencouragedenough.

Formepersonally,bookshavealwaysbeenclosecompanions.Idiscoveredsome when I was very young, and have never forgotten them. They are likefriendswhohaveledmebythehandandguidedmethroughlife.Theirwordsbreathemeaning intomany situations, for I use them to understand theworldaroundme.

I have also come across many book lovers who have fanned my love ofbooks.Onepersoninparticularwhohelpedmeoutoncebynotbuyingabookcomestomind.ThishappenedinMadrasmanyyearsback,whenIwasstudyingatMIT.IhadrecentlybecomeinterestedinRussianliterature,andhadobtainedacopyofabookthatIwasreadingwithgreatinterest.However,itsohappenedthatIalsoneededtogohomeforafewdaysandasalwaystherewashardlyanymoneyinmypocket—notenoughtobuyatrainticketevenforRameswaram!Isawnowayoutother thansellingthebookIwasreadinginorder to tideoverthismonetarycrisis.TheplacewhereIwentforallsuchtransactionswascalledMoreMarket inMadras. Itwas a covered shopping areawhere allmanner ofgoodswereavailable.Butwhat interestedmemostwasanarrowarea towardsthe rearwhere second-handbookswerebought and sold.Therewasone shopwhichIalwaysvisited,astheproprietorhadbecomeafriend.Hehadintroducedmetomanywritersandhelpedmebecomeavoraciousreaderbyprovidingmewithmanyinterestingandupliftingbooks.Thatday,whenIpresentedmyselfathisshopandtoldhimthatIneededtosellthebookIwasreading,helookedatmewithamixtureofpityandsadness.HecouldseethatIdidnotwanttopartwiththebook,yethealsounderstoodmyreasonforwantingtodoso.Thenhecame up with an idea that was brilliant in its simplicity and solved all myproblems!Whydidn'tIleavethebookwithhimasasortofmortgage?Hewouldloanmetheamounthewouldhavepaidmeforit.WhenIhadthemoneyIcould

returntheamounttohimandtakebackmybook.Hepromisednottosell it toanyoneinthemeantime!Myhappinessknewnoboundsatthissuddenchangeinmyfortunes.Iwasnowabletogohomeandnotlosemybook.Needlesstosay,mybook-loving friendkept hisword, and that book stayedwithme formanyyears—areminderofthekindnessofstrangersandtheequallystrangeworldofbibliophiles!

IstartedreadingtheEnglishclassicsonlywhenIwasinmyfinalyearatStJoseph's College. At the time, I discovered the works of Leo Tolstoy,WalterScottandThomasHardy.Thesettingsofthestorieswerecompletelyalientome,and the language different fromwhat Iwas used to, but the stories of humanrelationshipsandtheirviewsofsocietyappealedtome.After thisIdiscoveredtheworksofcertainphilosophersandstartedtakinganinterestinreadingaboutscience,inparticularphysics.

Here,IamremindedofastoryaboutAlbertEinstein.Whenhewastwelve,hismentor,MaxTalmud, gave him a bookonEucledian geometry.This bookopened the young Einstein's mind to concepts of pure thought and how toexploreuniversaltruths,andhebegantorealizethepowerofthehumanmind.

OvertheyearsIhavereadinnumerablebooks.ButifIwereaskedtonamethose that are most dear to me, or the ones that affectedme deeply, I wouldmentionthree.

ThefirstiscalledLightfromManyLamps,editedbyLillianEichlerWatson.Ifirstcameacrossthisbookin1953,intheverysamesecond-handbookstoreinMadras Ihadmentionedearlier (the joysofbrowsing inacrammedbookshopandstumblinguponararetreasurelikethisisindescribable).Iconsiderthebooktobemycompanion,becauseIhaveleafedthroughitandreadandrereaditsomany times over the years that I have possessed it. Considered a classicinspirational work, Lights fromMany Lamps contains the writings of variousauthors. The editor has compiled inspiring storieswritten by differentwriters,and has also, very helpfully,mentioned how these came to bewritten and thelessonstobederivedfromthem.

Therehashardlybeenanoccasionwhen theworksmentioned in thebookhave not brought me solace in my hours of sadness, or uplifted me when Ineededadvice.IfIameverindangerofbeingsweptawaybymyownemotions,thisbookbringsaboutabalanceinmythinking.Mycopyofthebookhasbeenboundand reboundsomany times that Iwasdelightedwhena friend foundaneweditionandgiftedittomesomeyearsago.

ThesecondworkthathasbeeninfluentialinmythinkingistheThirukural.WrittenbyThiruvalluvarmorethan2,000yearsago, it isacollectionof1,330rhyming Tamil couplets or aphorisms (kural). This work talks about almost

everyaspectoflifeandisconsideredtobeoneofthemostimportantpiecesofworkinTamilliterature.Tome,ithasprovidedacodeofconductformylife.Itisaworkthattrulyelevatesthemind.Hereisakuralthatisparticularlydeartomyheart:

UlluvathellamuyarvullalmatratuTallinumtellamainirttut(Thinkofrisinghigher.Letitbeyouronlythought.Evenifyourobjectbenotattained,thethoughtitselfwillhaveraisedyou.)Thenextbook that Iwould like tomention iscalledMantheUnknownby

theNobel laureate and doctor-turned-philosopherAlexisCarrel. In it, he talksabout how humans can be healed when both the body and mind are treatedtogether.Hisdescriptionofthehumanbody—howitisanintelligent,integratedsystem—isexplainedclearlyandbrilliantly.Ithinkthisworkshouldbereadbyeveryone,inparticularthosewhoaimtostudythemedicalsciences.

Religious texts of different religions have influenced me greatly. I havestudiedtheseandtriedtofindtheanswerstoquestionsthathaveappearedinmymind throughmy life.TheKoran, theVedas, theBhagwadGita,allholddeepphilosophicalinsightsintotheplightofmanandhavehelpedmeresolvemanydilemmasatdifferenttimesinmylife.

Just toillustratehowthesetextscanprovideinsight intoanyaspectof life,letmerecountafewexamples.AfterIhadworkedforawhileasanaeronauticalengineer in Bangalore, I was called for an interview for the post of rocketengineeratINCOSPAR,thespaceagencystartedbyDrVikramSarabhai.Iwasverynervousabouttheinterviewanddidnotknowwhattoexpect.Atthetime,these words by Lakshmana Sastry (my father's friend and the priest at theRameswaramtemple)quotingtheGitagavemecourage:'Allbeingsareborntodelusion…overcomeby thedualities thatarise fromwishandhate…but thosemenofvirtuousdeedsinwhomsinhascometoanend,freedfromthedelusionofdualities,worshipmesteadfast in theirvows.' I toldmyself thebestway towinwasnottoneedtowinandIwentfortheinterviewwiththisattitude.

India'sspaceprogrammegrewandwithit,Igot toworkwithmanypeoplewho helped build it and give it shape.My connection with the Indian SpaceResearchOrganisationgoesbackrighttothetimeofitsinception.WhenIlookatthewaytheorganizationhasgrownandthekindofserviceithasprovidedourcountry,aswellasthepeoplewhoshapeditsobjectivesandgaveitdirection,Iam reminded of a shloka from the Gita which says: 'See the flower, howgenerouslyitdistributesperfumeandhoney.Whenitsworkisdone,itfallsaway

quietly. Try to be like the flower, unassuming despite all its qualities.' Thestalwartsofthespaceprogrammewereliketheseflowers—theycameandgavedirectionandthenmadewayfornewideasandnewthoughts.

Again,whileIwasattheDefenceResearchandDevelopmentOrganisation(DRDO) working on developing India's indigenous missile programme, Iworkedwithmanybrilliantanddedicatedengineersandleaders.ThewordsfromtheHolyKoranringinmyearswhenI thinkof them: 'Lightuponlight.AllahguidesHislighttowhomHewill.'

Inmypersonallifetoo,theseworkshavegivenmecomfortandhelpedmemakesenseofthevicissitudesoflife.WhenIlostmyparentswithinthespanofayear,IrememberprayingatthemosqueinRameswaram,overcomewithgriefandregretfornothavingmetmymothermoreoftenbeforeshepassedaway.ButaftersometimethislinefromtheKorancametome.Ittoldmethatthepassingaway of souls is inevitable and the only constant is God: 'Your wealth andchildrenareonlyatemptationwhereasAllah!WithHimiseternalaward.'

Poetryhasbeenoneofmyfirstlovesintherealmofliterature.TheworksofT.S.Eliot,LewisCarrollandWilliamButlerYeatshaveplayedoutinmymindover and over again, appearing to give context and meaning to varioushappenings.Inmyendeavoursinthescientificarena,howappropriatehavebeentheselinesbyLewisCarroll:

Letcraft,ambition,spite,BequenchedinReason'snight,Tillweaknessturntomight,Tillwhatisdarkbelight,Tillwhatiswrongberight!And when work was an endless cycle of back-breaking hours, and days

merged into days till I could hardly tell one from the other, Samuel TaylorColeridge'swordsdescribedmystateofmindthebest:

Dayafterday,dayafterday,Westuck,norbreath,normotion;Asidleasapaintedship

UponapaintedoceanOften,Ihavehadtoworktryingtomeetimpossibledeadlines.Acolleague,

GroupCaptainNarayanan,wasimpatienttoachieveourgoalofcreatingguidedmissiles.Hetoldmeonce,'YounamethethingandIwillgetitforyou,butdonot askme for time.'At the time I had laughed at his hurry andquoted thesewordsbyT.S.Eliot:

Betweentheconception

Andthecreation

Betweentheemotion

AndtheresponseFallstheShadow.Thesearejustsomeofthewritersandworksthathaveinfluencedmedeeply.

Theyarealllikeoldfriends—familiar,well-meaningandreassuring.Theyknowwhentoentermymind;theyknowwhenIaminsomedilemma,ormymomentsofsadnessandcontemplation.Theyarealsowithmeinmydeepest,mostjoyousmoments. In this age of quick and easy communication, when informationcomes to us in byte-sized pieces, the charmof thewrittenword can never beallowed to be lost. I once wrote this poem on books that I often read out toyoungpeople.Itsumsupmyfeelingsforthewrittenword:

Bookswerealwaysmyfriends

Lastmorethanfiftyyears

Booksgavemedreams

DreamsresultedinmissionsBookshelpedmeconfidentlytakeupthemissionsBooksgavemecourageatthetimeoffailuresGoodbookswereformeangelsTouchedmyheartgentlyatthetimeHenceIaskyoungfriendstohavebooksasfriendsBooksareyourgoodfriends.

haverecountedinanearlierchaptersomeofmyfirstexperiencesofdejectionandfailureandthe lessons theyheldforme.Ihaveunderstoodnowthatafterthe feelings of disappointment subside, and one gains perspective, theseexperiencescanchangeourwaysofthinking.Theyalsodeeplyimpactoursouls,Ibelieve,andbringusface tofacewithexistential issues.Whenthathappens,weneed toembrace theeventsandanalyzehowwe responded—didweallowthemtomerelyrolloveruslikewaves,ordidwedivedeeperintothematteranduseittogaininsightsintoourselves?

Needlesstosay,itisusuallyeventsofgreatmagnitudethatshiftsomethingwithin us at a fundamental level.Whenwe are unable to live up to the highstandardsandexpectationsofthosewevaluethemost;orgetinvolvedinmattersthatimpactthelivesofmillions;orwhenitisamatteroflifeanddeath—thesearethetimeswhenoursenseofselfandouregowitnessdeepchanges.

Icanrecallafewsuchmarkersfrommyworkinglife.WhenIwasleadingthe project teams for SLV-3, the satellite launch vehicle, and forAgni, India'sfirst indigenousmissile, expectations fromme andmy teamswere sky-high—both from the government and from the people of the country. The mediascrutiny,thoughnothingcomparedtowhatitistoday,wasalsointensive.SLV-3failedonitsfirst launchandtheAgniproject, too,wentthroughnumerousupsand downs andwitnessed pre-launch difficulties.Thesewere jobs that put theteams and me under immense pressure and the stakes were very high. Notgettingtheseperfectthefirsttimearoundnegatedthemanyothersuccesseswehadachieveddespitevarioushurdles.Thosedaysof introspectionandanalysisofthereasonsforfailurewillremaindeeplyembeddedinmymemory.Butwhatleavesanevengreaterimpactiswhenpeopleweknowandworkwith,orthoseon whom we depend to implement our ideas and designs, show uncommondedicationandevensuffer in theprocess.Ihaveseenthis, too, inmyworkinglifeandeachtimeIhavebeenmovedbeyondwordsbywhatIwitnessed.

In the 1960s and '70s, I was working at Thumba Equatorial RocketLaunching Station (TERLS). Under the guidance of Dr Vikram Sarabhai, weweremakingourownrockets,SLVsandsatellites.Wewerealsoworkingwithlaboratoriesaroundthecountryinpreparingpayloadsforthesoundingrockets.Almost all physical laboratories in Indiawere involved in the sounding rocketprogramme, each having its own mission and payload. These payloads wererequiredtobeintegratedwiththerocketstructure.OneofmycolleaguesatthePayloadPreparationLaboratorywasSudhakar.Once,wewereworkingonapre-

launchschedule,andwerefillingandremotelypressingadangeroussodiumandthermitemix.LikemostdaysatThumba,whichisontheeastcoast,itwashotand humid. Sudhakar and I had been working for a long time. The heat wasintensebutwewereunmindfulofit.Afterfillingsixsuchmixes,wedecidedtovisit thepayload roomand inspect theprogress tosee forourselves if themixhadbeenfilledproperly.Perhaps,becauseweweresodeeply immersed inourwork,weforgotabasicfactofscience:puresodium,whenincontactwithwater,canbedangerous.AsSudhakarandIleanedintoinspectthemixture,adropofsweat from Sudhakar's forehead fell into it. Before we could react, we werethrownbackwardsbyapowerful explosion! It shook the roomandbothofusfell. For a few seconds, the shockparalysedme. In amatter of seconds a firebrokeoutfromtheexplosion.Infrontofourhorrifiedeyes,thelaboratorywassoonburningawayfiercely. Itwasa firedue tosodium,sousingwaterwouldnot help. Rather, it would add to the devastation. The laboratory was nownothingshortofaninferno.Later,whenIrelivedtheevents,itallseemedtotakeplaceinslowmotion—theaccident,theexplosionandthenthefire.Inreality,allthis happened within the space of a few seconds. Even as I got to my feet,Sudhakarshowedastartlingpresenceofmind.Hebrokeopentheglasswindowofthepayloadroomwithhisbarehands.Then,withoutamoment'shesitation,he turned tomeandpushedmeoutbeforeproceeding to jumphimself.Theseactionscouldnothavetakenmorethanafewminutes,yetifoneconsiderstheintensity of the explosion and the terrible heat of the fire, by the time it tookSudhakartofigureoutourescapeandsaveme,hehimselfgotterriblyinjured.Notonlywasheseverelyburnt,buthishandswerealsobleedingfromhavingbrokentheglasspanewithnoprotection.

Aswe staggered away from the room thatwas now engulfed in flames, IheldontoSudhakarandthankedhimforsavingme.Despitetheintensepainhewas in, he smiled and acknowledged my words. He went on to spend manyweeksinhospitalrecoveringfromhisinjuries.Asforme,notonlyhadIbeeninthemostterribleaccidentofmylife,Iwasalsoexperiencingforthefirsttimethefeelingsofasurvivor.Knowingthatsomeonewillinglyandinstinctivelyputhislifeatrisk inorder tosaveyours isanincrediblyhumblingexperience.Peoplewho have survived and been rescued from mortal danger face a gamut ofemotions—from relief to guilt to gratitude. In my case it also came with afeeling of added responsibility. If Sudhakar had thought my life was worthsavingwithoutmindinghisownsafety,thenIneededmorethanevertoseethatalltheworkweweredoingtogetherdidnotsufferaninstant'sdelay.

Sudhakar'sstoryofcouragehasbeenanabidingsourceofinspirationforme.WheneverIfeelmyselfgivingimportancetothesmallissuesoflife,whenIfind

myselflosingsightofthelargerpicture,perhapslosingsightofthefactthatIamjustoneinahumanityofbillionsandlessthanaspeckinthisuniverse,atthosetimesIrememberthisincredibleman.Helookedlikeanyother—ascientistlikeallofusgoingabouthisjob—yetheroseabovethemostbasicoffears,thatofsavingyourownself,anddidsomethingextraordinary.

There is another incident that still leaves its painful imprint on my heartwhenIthinkaboutit.ThiswastheArakkonamcrashof1999.Itleftadeepwellof sadness within me and altered my ego structure forever. Soon after ithappened,Iabsorbeditsimportancebutburiedmyfeelingsunderamountainofwork. It was only years later, while talking to a close friend when we werewritingabooktogether,thatIcouldarticulatemyfeelingsandrecountwhathadhappenedwithoutsinkingintoregretandsadness.

On 11 January 1999, two aircraft took off from Bangalore towards theArakkonam–Chennai coastline on a scientific mission for the AirborneSurveillance Platform (ASP). One was an Avro with an aircraft surveillancesystemmountedatopasamotodome(adish-likestructurefixedontheaircraftbody). It climbed to 10,000 feet and set course for the coast where the radartesting was being carried out somewhere over the coastline. Fifteen minutesbeforetheAvrotookoff,anAN-32aircraft,whichwasthetargetaircraftfortheradartesting,hadalsotakenofffromBangalore.Thetestinghappenedfornearlyoneandhalfhoursandeveryonewashappywith theperformanceof theradarsystem. The AN-32 landed at Arakkonam at around 4 p.m. The Avro ASPaircraftalsosetcoursetowardsArakkonamataroundthistime.Asitstarteditsdescentfrom10,000to5,000feet,allwaswell.ButwhentheAvrowasabout5nauticalmilesaway from theairfield,atanaltitudesomewherebetween3,000and5,000feet, themotodomefelloff.Thesuddenimbalancemadetheaircraftunstableanditcrashedimmediately.Therewereeightmenonboard.Allofthemdied.

Thenewscame tomewhen Iwas in theSouthBlock, inameetingof theDefence Research Council. I left midway and flew to Bangalore. Air ChiefMarshalA.Y.Tipniswasalsothere.Thedaysthatfollowedwerethemostheart-rending.Imetthebereavedfamilies—theyoungwives,somewithinfants.WhatconsolationcouldIofferthem?Thattheirbelovedhusbandsandsonshaddiedinthe cause of defence preparedness? Is that of any solace to peoplewhen theirworstfearshavecometrue?Iwasspeechlessandshell-shockedwhenoneyoungmotherpointedtoherbabyandsaid, 'Whowilllookafterthisyounglife?'Themotherofanotheraskedmesomethingthathauntsmestill,'Whydidyoudothistous?'

Thecrashhadbeenofsuchintensitythatwecouldnotlocateanyremainsof

theeightmen.Allwecoulddowaspreparesomecoffinsforthecomfortofthefamilies.Weplaced them in the air force hall and somehow Imade a speech,biddingfarewelltotheeightmenwhohadsetoutthatafternoontodotheirjobs,butnevercamehome.Ireturnedtomyroomthatnightexhaustedandwornoutwithgrief,worryandguilt.Iwroteinmydiary:

Thelampsaredifferent

ButthelightissameWorldlyjoysyoureturnedtotheworldYouremaininmyinnermostsoul.Asyearspassedafterthisincident,ImovedfrommyofficeatSouthBlockto

Rashtrapati Bhavan. But there, too, the cries of the widows, the grief of thedevastatedparentsandthewailingoftheinfantsremainedwithme.ThefactthattheydidnotevengettoseethemenforthelasttimeandhadtomakedowithsymboliccoffinsbrokemyheartwhenIthoughtaboutit.Whengrandplansforscientificanddefencetechnologiesaremade,dothepeopleinpowerthinkaboutthe sacrifices the people in the laboratories and fields have tomake?Politicalrhetoric alone does not build a nation unless it is backed by the power ofsacrifice,toilandvirtue.Thatistruenation-building.

Whenwe obtain positions of power over others, we believe that we havereachedthepinnacleofsuccess.Butitisatthistimethatweneedtolookbackandbeawareofthemultitudesonwhosehardworkandsacrificeswehavebuiltourcastles.WhenIwasspeakingtomyfriend,ArunTiwari,aboutthisepisode,heaskedme,'Whatisthemessage?'Myreplywas,'Don'tpretendtobeacandle,beamoth.Knowthepowerhiddeninserving.Weseemtohavegotstuckwithexternal forms of politics and mistaking them to be nation-building. It issacrifices,toilandvalourthatareseldomseenthattrulymakeanation.'

Now, when I think back on these incidents, not only of their immediateimpact but the events that unfolded subsequently—ofSudhakar in hospital, ofthecompensationthatthefamiliesreceivedfromthegovernmentfortheirfallenmen,butonlyafteralong-drawn-outprocess—Ifeelaprofoundalonenesstoo.Insadnessyouaretrulyalone.Thatiswhenyourtrueselfisrevealedtoyou,andI found myself reaching out to a larger consciousness, of the awareness thatthesequestionsaboutthenatureoflifeandexistenceweretriggeringresolutionsandgivingbirthtonewdepthsofwisdom.Eachoneofushastoconfrontdeathandheartbreak inour lives,but if there is somethingIhave learnt inmyeightdecadesoflifeonthisplanet,itisthatthesemomentsareourtruefriends.Joyisfleeting,whereastruehappinessandcalmcancometousonlyafterintensepain,whenwehaveconfrontedourselvesinthemirrorofoursoulsandunderstoodtheself.

eachers and mentors come at various stages into our lives. As a child, Ilookeduptomyparentsandmyteachers.Thenmydearfriendandbrother-

in-law,AhmedJalalluddin,guidedmeinthecrucialyearswhenIturnedfromachild into aman.Andasmycareerwasbeginning, Iwas immensely lucky tocomeintheorbitofamansuchasDrVikramSarabhai.

A scientist, educationist, institutionbuilder andvisionary,DrSarabhaiwasone of modern India's greatest thinkers and doers. He combined an acuteintelligencewiththequalitiesofafineleader.Itwasthecountry'sgoodfortunethathewaschosen tohelm its fledglingspaceprogrammeafter Independence.Muchhas beenwritten about himandhismany achievements—that he set upISRO,articulatedIndia'sspacemission,hewaschairmanoftheAtomicEnergyCommissionandsetupanumberofotherindustriesandeducationalinstitutions,nottheleastbeingtheIndianInstituteofManagement(IIM),Ahmedabad.Yet,fromwhereIsawhim,hewasallthis—thesewerethestuffoflegendsandmadehimsomewhatofaheroic figureforayoungrocketengineer likeme—andhewasmuchmore.

I firstmet himwhen Iwas called for an interviewby INCOSPAR for theposition of rocket engineer. The call for the interview had come to me quiteunexpectedly, after Professor M.G.K. Menon of the Tata Institute ofFundamental Research (TIFR) saw my work on the Nandi hovercraft inBangalore.Ihadlittleideaofwhattoexpectattheinterview,orwhowouldbeconducting it. Neither did I know exactly what areas of my knowledge theinterviewerswouldtest.IwenttoBombaywithanopenmind,tellingmyselfnottoraisemyexpectationstoomuch.Lifehadalreadytaughtmethatthebestwaytowinistonotcovetthewintoomuch,insteadtokeepacalmandopenmindtonewchallenges.

IwasinterviewedbyDrSarabhai,ProfessorMenonandMrSaraf,whowasthedeputysecretaryoftheAtomicEnergyCommission.Eachoneofthemwasastorehouseofscientificknowledge,yetthewarmthandgraciousnessthatIfeltintheroomwasremarkable.ThatinterviewsetthetoneformyfuturerelationshipwithDrVikramSarabhai.Heprobedmoreintomythoughtprocesses,tryingtonotonlyfindoutmylevelofknowledge,buttoknowwhatIwasmadeofasaperson,wheremygoalslayandthepossibilitiesforgrowththatIheldwithinme,bothasaprofessionalandasahumanbeing.Hewasencouraging,affableandlistenedtomeinsuchawaythatinstinctivelyIknewthatherewasamanwhowasnotrecruitingjustanengineer,ratherhewaslookingatmyfuturepotential

andwasinvestinghistimeandcareinme.Inmyprofessionallifethiswasthefirst time that I had comeacross someoneofhis staturewho seemed ready toenvelopmy thoughts anddreams into his larger vision for the country's spaceprogramme.

IwasinductedintoINCOSPAR.Itwaslikeadreamcometrueforme,andagreatcareerbreakthrough.AsIsettleddownintomyroleandgot toknowtheinstitution and its processes and people, I was struck by how different it wasfromwhereIhadworkedearlier.Theatmospherewasmuchmorerelaxed,andlabelsandhierarchywerenotasimportant.

Soon after this I heard the story of how Dr Sarabhai set up the ThumbaEquatorialRocketLaunchingStation.ItisastoryInevertireoftelling,becauseto me it is the perfect coming together of science and spirituality—the twindrivingforcesofmylife.

It was the year 1962 and Dr Vikram Sarabhai was looking for a site toestablish a space research station. He visited a number of places. Thumba inKerala,insouthernIndia,wasselectedasitisneartheequatorialregionandisideallysuited for ionospheric research in theupperatmosphere,apart fromthestudy of the atmospheric structure. When Dr Sarabhai visited Thumba, thelocality had a number of villages and thousands of fishing folkwere living inthatarea.Italsohadabeautifulancientchurch,theStMaryMagdaleneChurch,andthebishop'shousenearby.DrSarabhaimetmanypoliticiansandbureaucratsin order to get the place for building research facilities but it was difficult toobtain permissions. Finally he was asked to see the bishop of Trivandrum,ReverendFatherDrPeterBernardPereira.ItwasaSaturdaywhenDrSarabhaimet the bishop. The bishop smiled and asked him to meet him the next day,Sunday.Thatday,afterserviceat thechurch, thebishoptold thecongregation,'Mychildren,IhaveafamousscientistwithmewhowantsourchurchandtheplaceIlivefortheworkofspacescienceresearch.Dearchildren,scienceseekstruth by reasoning. In oneway, science and spiritualism seek the same divineblessingsfordoinggood.Mychildren,canwegiveGod'sabodeforascientificmission?' The church reverberated with a chorus of 'Amen' from thecongregation.Subsequently,ReverendDrPeterBernardPereira took thenobledecision todedicate thechurchbuilding toIndia'snationalgoalofestablishingISRO.Thatwaswherewehadourdesigncentre,startedrocketassembly,designof filamentwindingmachine and the bishop's housewas our scientists' place.Thechurchbuildinghasbeenmaintainedwithloveandcareeversinceandisaremindertoallofusofwherethebeginningsofourspaceprogrammelay.Todayithouses the IndianSpaceMuseum.Later,TERLS led to theestablishmentofthe Vikram Sarabhai Space Centre (VSSC) and multiple space centres

throughoutthecountry.WhenIthinkofthisevent,Icanseehowenlightenedspiritualandscientific

leadersworkharmoniouslyforlargergoals.Later,anewchurchandnewschoolswereestablishedinrecordtimeatThumba.ThebirthofTERLSandthenVSSCgave India the capability to design, develop and produce worldclass rocketsystems. India developed the capability of launching geo-synchronous, sun-synchronous andmeteorology spacecraft, communication satellites and remotesensing satellites, thereby providing fast communication, weather forecastingand also locating water resources for the country. Dr Vikram Sarabhai is nolongeramongus,neitherisReverendDrPeterBernardPereira,butIseethemasflowers that blossom to bring value to others' lives. This is described in theBhagwadGita:'Seetheflower,howgenerouslyitdistributesperfumeandhoney.It gives to all, gives freely of its love.When its work is done, it falls awayquietly.Trytobeliketheflower,unassumingdespiteallitsqualities.'

This story of how we got a rocket-launching facility is an inspirationalmessageforallgenerations.Itisabouttheintegrationofminds.Nowhereintheworldhas a churchbeengiven for scientific research; it hashappenedonly inIndia.Itisagreatmessagetobespread.Themessageis,thebestcomponentofreligioncanbetransformedintoaspiritualforcethatwillshapesociety.

AsIcontinuedmyworkatwhatbecameISRO,IcameintocontactwithDrSarabhaimoreandmoreoften.Hewasgivingshapetohisvisionofthecountry'sspaceprogrammebysettingupthefacilityatThumba,byconceivingtheideaofIndia building its own SLV and at the same time building a Rocket-AssistedTake-OffSystem(RATO),whichwouldenablemilitaryaircrafttotakeoffevenfromthemosthostileterrain.Iwouldbeamazedatthewayhismindworked—the clear ideas and the ability to look ahead evenwhen such thingswere notapparenttotherestofus.

DrSarabhai's leadershipqualitieswere such that he could inspire even thejunior-mostperson in anorganizationwith a senseofpurpose. Inmyopinion,therewere somebasic qualities thatmadehimagreat leader.Letmementionthemonebyone.

Firstly, he was always ready to listen. In Indian institutions, what oftenhindersgrowthisthereluctanceofthoseatthetoptolistentotheirjuniorsandsubordinates.Thereisabeliefthatalldecisionsandideasmustcomeinatop-to-down manner. The line between leadership and bullying is a thin one. DrSarabhai amazed us often with the amount of trust he placed in us. AtINCOSPARwewereessentiallyabunchofyoung,inexperiencedengineerswithlarge quantities of zeal and enthusiasmwithin us. He harnessed this youthfulspiritbygivingusavisionandbyalsomakingus feel thatwewerepartof a

larger whole. His visits to Thumba would be preceded by days of feverishactivity, as each of us wanted to show him something new that had beendeveloped—be it a new design, new fabrication or even a new administrativeprocess.Hegroomedustobecomeleadersinourownrights.

AsecondqualitythatIbelievestandsaleaderingoodsteadistheabilitytothinkcreatively.WhenDrSarabhaidecided thatwe shouldbuild theSLVandtheRATO, thereappeared tobeno immediate linkbetween the two.Yet, timeandagain itwasproved tous thathis thoughts and tasks that initially seemedrandom were actually deeply interconnected. I was quick to realize this, andmadeupmymindearlyontoremainalertandfocusedinordertobeassignedunusualanddemandingtaskstobeimplementedatmylaboratory.Inthelargerperspective,Dr Sarabhai envisioned India's space programme as an integratedwhole, which would encompass the design and manufacture of rockets,satellites, launchvehiclesand launch facilities.Awide-rangingprogrammefordevelopment of rocket fuels, propulsion systems, aeronautics and aerospacematerials, tracking systems and instruments also gathered pace at the SpaceScience and Technology Centre and Physical Research Laboratory atAhmedabad.When Dr Sarabhai gave shape to a vision to develop rockets inIndia,hewasquestioned,alongwiththepoliticalleadership,ontherelevanceofsuchaprogrammewhenavastmajorityinthecountrywasbattlingthedemonsof hunger and poverty. Yet, he was in agreement with Jawaharlal Nehru thatIndiacouldonlyplayameaningfulroleintheaffairsoftheworldifthecountrywas self-reliant in every manner, and should be able to apply advancedtechnologies to alleviate real-life problems. Thus our space programme wasneversimplyadesiretobeoneamonganelitegroupofnations,neitherwasitamatterofplayingcatch-upwithothercountries.Rather,itwasanexpressionofthe need for developing indigenous capabilities in telecommunications,meteorologyandeducation.

A third quality that I observed in Dr Sarabhai, and which I have tried toincorporate in my own way of working, was an ability to build teams. DrSarabhai had an uncanny knack of spotting the right person for the job. Hewouldthenbackthepersoncompletelyevenifheorshelackedexperience.Healsohadhisownwaysof raisingmorale—amuch-requiredability in a leader,particularlyinafieldlikeours,whereweoftenhadtobattleoddsandfailures.Whenrequiredhecouldmakethebleakestscenarioappearnotsodark,hewouldpraiseuseven ifwehadnotcompletely reachedourgoal ifhe felt that itwasjustified,andheneverstintedonusinghumourtoalleviatethetensionsinherentin our field.All of this helped himbuild teams and institutions that remainedsteadfastly loyal tohimandhisvision.Eachpersonknewhecouldcontribute,

andthatthecontributionwouldberecognizedandvalued.And finally, thatgreatqualityofhis—to lookbeyond failures. I remember

that for one of his visits to Thumba we had prepared a demonstration of thenose-cone jettisoningmechanism of the SLV stagewewereworking on. Theplan was that when Dr Sarabhai pressed a switch, the pyro systemwould beactivatedthrougha timercircuit.Butwhenhepressedtheswitchasrequested,nothinghappened. Iwas ina stateof shock, alongwithmycolleaguePramodKale,whohaddesignedandintegratedthetimercircuit.Wequicklygaugedtheproblemasbeingonewithinthetimer,andgavedirectaccesstothepyroafterdetachingit.WhenDrSarabhaipressedtheswitchthistime,thepyroswerefiredand the nose cone was jettisoned, as it was supposed to. Dr Sarabhaicongratulatedusonourwork,buttherewasathoughtfullookonhisfaceashesaid goodbye. That evening I was asked to meet him at the Kovalam PalaceHotelinTrivandrum.IhadanuneasyfeelingasImademywaythere.Hemetmewithhisusualwarmthandspokeabouttherocketlaunchingstation.Thenheturnedtotheincidentofthemorning.Ireadiedmyselftobeupbraided.Instead,DrSarabhaidelvedintodeeperissues—wereweunenthusedbythejob,orwasitnot challenging enough for us? After talking to me, we finally came upon areason behind that morning's failure. We needed an integrated space for thesystemintegrationofallourrocketstagesandrocketsystems.Afterpinpointingthisreason,DrSarabhaistayeduplateintothenightredefiningrolesandcomingupwithanewdepartment—theRocketEngineeringSection.

As I have mentioned, mistakes and failures are a part of every project,particularlyinoneslikeourswhereweworkonanumberofsystemsandvariousteamsareresponsiblefordifferentstages,whereevenasmallerroratonestagecan put to waste years of hard work. Dr Sarabhai used these mistakes asgatewaysforinnovationandthedevelopmentofnewsystems.Hehadtheabilitytolookbeyondthespecificerrorandreadwhatlaybehindit.Hekeptroomforerrorsandinsteadtriedtoanalyzehowwecouldmakethemmanageable,sothatweruledtheproject,andnotourfearoffailure.

TheplaceISROnowhasinthecommunityofspace-faringnationsissecondtonone.Ithasdevelopedworldclasssatellites,satelliteandrocketlaunchersandhasprovidedinvaluableservicetothecountryinthefieldsofscientificresearch,innovation, education and telecommunication facilities.Somuch so that it hassentanorbiter to themoon, theChandrayaan1,andwillsoonsendaprobe toMars.AllofthisgrewfromtheseedsplantedbyDrSarabhaiandnurturedbythelikesofSatishDhawanandsubsequentchairmenoftheorganization.

My relationship with Vikram Sarabhai was a deeply emotional andintellectual one. Time and again he placed his faith in me to lead teams that

woulddesignanddevelopmechanismsto takeIndiafurtherandfurtheronhercourse to becoming a self-reliant nation, in terms of science and defence. Hetooktheyoungrocketengineersittingbeforehim,answeringhisquestionswithhonestyandclarity,intohisfoldandsharedhisowndreamofbuildingrocketsandmissileswithhim.Hestoodbymeinmomentsofcrisisanddoubt,offailureand success, guiding me, pointing me on the right path when necessary orshowingmewhere the path laywhen Iwas confused.Hewas a giant amongmen,andIwasfortunatethatIcouldgrowinhisshadow.

Dr Sarabhai's death came as a cruel blow tome, not least because it wascompletelyunexpected.InDecember1971,IspoketohimfromDelhi,updatinghim about a missile panel meeting that I had just attended there. He was inThumbathenandaskedmetomeethimatTrivandrumairportafterlandingfromDelhi,ashewouldbeonhisway toBombay.Thatmeetingneverhappened. IlandedatTrivandruma fewhours later tohear thenews thatDrSarabhaihadpassedawayfromacardiacarrest.Icametoknowthathediedanhourafterourconversation.Themanwhonurturedscientistsandengineerswhowouldgoontoheadimportantscientificprojectsofthecountry,whowasagreatscientistanda leader, was no more there for us to turn to. But before his going he hadequippeduswiththeknowledge,confidenceandforesightrequiredtotakeonallsortsofchallenges,andIbelievethatourgreatesthomagetohimwasforeachofus to realize our own true potential, which he had spotted at the very firstmeeting.

Itisperhapsapatterninmylifethatthoseclosesttomepassawaysuddenly,withoutwarning.Whathasthattaughtme?ForeachpersonIlostIfoundanewlayerofgrieftocovermyselfwith,andeachtimeItriedtobringsomethingoftheiressenceintomyownbeing—beitunconditionallove,kindnessandpiety.InDrSarabhai'scase,perhapsitwastheabilitytolookahead—toplan,tobuildand to create. If I have achieved even a part of that throughmy actions andthrough the various roles I have been entrusted with, I consider myselfsuccessfulinlivinguptotheexpectationsofthisgreatvisionaryofIndia.

fter India conducted the second nuclear test at Pokhran in 1998, inwhosedevelopmentIplayedapart,Iwasgivenvariousepithets.Theonethathas

stayedwithmeevenaftersomanyyearsandbeyondtheyearsofmypresidencyisMissileMan.ItamusesmevastlywhenIhearmyselfbeingcalledthat,foritsoundsmorethenameforachild'sactionfigurethanofamanofsciencethatIbelievemyself tobe.Yet, it also carries all the love and respect that hasbeenshoweredonmebysomanyinthiscountry.Tomeitalsosymbolizessomesortof culmination of my journey into the realm of science, rocketry andengineering.Thebeginningofthisjourneystretchesalongwaybackintotime—solongthatwhenI thinkbackIwonder if itallhappenedtome,or is itsomestorythatImyselfreadinabooksomewhere?Butofcourse,allthatwentintomaking me a person who chose the path of science really did happen, andremembering it now is like taking a journey upriver—from the delta to thesource,furtherandfurtherupstreamIdrift,tillIreachthepointwhenIwasstillaboy,tryingtofindmypathinlife.

Inmanywaysmy real education began after I left Rameswaram for highschool at Ramanathapuram. As I have written earlier, it was the first time Istepped out of the protective embrace of Rameswaram, my mother andeverythingelse thatwasfamiliar. Iwasverymuchashysmall-townboy then,afraid to speak outmuch. Itwas at SchwartzHighSchool that I hadmy firstbrushwiththewondersofscience,andhaditexplainedtomeinamannerthatsetmymindalight.AtthatschooltherewasateachercalledReverendIyaduraiSolomon.He struck up a relationship of great openness and trustwithme. Inhim,IfoundtheguidethatIneededtoshowmethepathforward.

I was fascinated by the flight of birds in the sky. I could watch them forhours,lookingattheirflightpatternsandpathsintheskiesaboveme.Thedesiretoflyandbeoneamongthemhadgrownwithinmefromayoungage.Oneday,whilestudyingthephysicsofflight,ReverendIyaduraiSolomontookabunchofusstudentstotheseashore.Therehepointedoutthebirds,andstandingbythesea,withtheroarofthewavesinourears,theharshcriesofcranesandseagullsas they soared around us, he opened up a new world of aerodynamics,aeronauticaldesignandjet-streamsandairflowstous.Iwasoneamongagroupof fifteen year olds, and forme, it was perhaps themost important lesson insciencetillthen.Suddenly,whatformetillthenhadbeenamatteroffascination,wasnowexplainedandmadeclear.ItwasasthoughIhadbeenlookingoutfrombehind a cloudyglasswindow.Now thewindowhadbeen thrownopen and I

waslookingoutintotheworldwithwide-openeyes,thirstingtoknowmore.As I made my way through school and then into college at St Joseph's,

Tiruchirapalli,thereweremanymoresuchmomentslyinginwaitforme.Ihadrealized early on that I needed to keep my mind and ears open, my brainsharpenedandfocusedandtherewasnothingthatIcouldnotlearnorabsorbifitcame my way. At St Joseph's, when introduced to the concept of subatomicphysics by Professor Chinnadurai and Professor Krishnamurthy, I startedthinking for the first time about the hiddenworld ofmatter and decay that ispresentallaroundus.Ilearntabouthalf-lifeperiodsandtheradioactivedecayofsubstances, and suddenly, the world seemed a lot different from the solidcertainties that had formed it earlier. I also got thinking about the so-calleddualitiesofscienceandspirituality.Weretheyreallyallthatdifferentfromeachotherastheyweremadeouttobe?Ifatasubatomiclevelparticlescanbecomeunstable anddisintegrate, how farwas it removed from the stateof all humanlife? Science sought to provide answers to all natural phenomena, andspiritualityhelpedusunderstandourplaceintheentireschemeoftheuniverse.Whileonelookedatitthroughthesolidcertaintiesofmathematicsandformulae,spiritualitydidsobyopeningupthemindandhearttoexperiencesandbygoingdeeperwithinone's own self.Hazily, it startedgetting apparent tome that theconnections between what was becoming my world and the one my fatherinhabitedwerenotthatfarremovedfromoneanother.

FromTiruchirapalli Iwent toMITtostudyaeronauticalengineering.Here,thesightoftwodecommissionedaircraftreignitedmydesiretoknoweverythingabout the fascinatingworldof human flight. Iwasdrawn towards them like amoth to a flameand realized therewasno career possible forme that didnottakemeintotherealmoftheseman-madeflyingobjects.AtMIT,threeteachersshaped this desire and took it from a wish to the path of reality. They wereProfessor Sponder, an Austrian who taught me technical aerodynamics,ProfessorK.A.V.Pandalai,whotaughtaero-structuredesignandanalysis,andProfessorNarasinghaRao,whotaughtustheoreticalaerodynamics.

Thesethreeteachersshowedmejusthowfascinatingasubjectaeronauticsis.Whatweperceiveasmovementandflowisbrokendownintocomponentsthatexplain how and why objects move in the air. I lost myself in exploring thecomplexworldof fluiddynamics,modesofmotion,shockwaves,shock-wavedrag andmore.At the same time the structural features of aeroplanes becameclearer tome,andIstudiedwith infinitegustoallaboutbiplanes,monoplanes,taillessplanesandmanyothersuchareasofstudy.

ThereweremanymomentsthatoccurredwhileIwasatMITwhenIfoundmyselfavidlyexploringtheworldofscience.Allthiswashappeningataperiod

in the country's history when, starting from the prime minister himself—Jawaharlal Nehru—great emphasis was being laid on the development of thescientific temperament.All aroundme, especially in an educational institutionlikeours,Iobservedthatwewerebeingencouragedtoleavebehindtraditionalwaysofthinkingandembracethisnewclimate.Itwasbestifweusedscientificmethods in the pursuit of knowledge. Brought up as I was steeped in thereligious climate of Rameswaram, I found this very difficult to do. Instead, Ifoundmyselfgivingshapetomyearlierglimmeringsoftheessentialonenessofscience and spirituality. I could not make myself acknowledge that sensoryperceptionsweretheonlysourceofknowledgeandtruth.Ihadbeenbroughtupwith the lesson that true reality laybeyond thematerialworld, in the spiritualrealm, and that true knowledge lay in exploring the inner self. Now, I wasbecoming more and more a part of another world—where proofs andexperiments and formulae held sway.Gradually I learnt towork outmy ownstandonthis,thoughittookmanyyearstocrystallize.

Finally,IemergedfromtheportalsofMITacertifiedengineer,yetIstillhadtolearnalotabouttheworldofrocketsandmissilesthatweregoingtobewheremycareerlayinthefuture.AllIknewthenwasthatagreatbigworldlayopenformetoexplore,andIwasdeterminedtodoasmuchofitfromhighup,wayupintheskies.

AftersomeyearsattheDTD&P(Air)whereIwaspartofvariousteamsthatdesignedandbuiltsystemsrangingfromaverticallandingandtake-offplatformto what was termed a Hot Cockpit, I found myself at the AeronauticalDevelopmentEstablishment(ADE)inBangalore.Itwashere,Irealizenow,thatI had my first big opportunity at innovation and learning to build somethingfrom scratch—this was to become a recurring pattern inmy career. At ADE,basedonmypreliminarystudiesonground-handlingequipment,itwasdecidedthatanindigenoushovercraftprototypeshouldbedesignedanddevelopedasaGround EquipmentMachine (GEM). The director of ADE, DrMediratta, puttogetherasmallteamoffour,andtoldmetoheadit.

Itwasamassivechallenge forus.Therewasneithermuch literatureon it,nor a personwhowas experienced in this sort of technologywhomwe couldturn to foradvice.Therewerenopre-existingdesignsor standardcomponentsthatwe could use. In fact, therewas nothingmuch the teamhad going for it,otherthanknowingthatwehadtobuildasuccessfulflyingmachine.Itwasanastoundingchallenge,Ithinknow,foragroupofengineerswhohadnotbuiltamachineever,leavealoneaflyingone.Weweregiventhreeyearstocompletetheproject,andwespentthefirstfewmonthssimplyfloundering,tryingtofindour feet.Thenatonepoint Idecided thatwe justneeded togoaheadwith the

availablehardwareandtakethingsastheycame.Despitethehugechallenge,itwasalsoaprojectrightaftermyheartandfiredmyimaginationtoo.Wemovedfromthedesignprocessintodevelopmentafterafewmonths.

Bynow,Iwasamuchmoreassertiveandconfidentindividual,yetmysmall-townmiddle-classrootscouldneverleavemysoul.Pushedintoaworldwhereoneneededtodirecttheworkofotherswhilefacingthequestionsanddoubtsofseniorcolleagues,ithadthesameeffectonmeasanironthathasbeenforgedinfire.Peoplelikeme,whoareintrinsicallyshy,withtheaddedqualityofcomingfromadifferentbackgroundthanmycity-bredcolleagues,tendtoremainhiddenin the shadows unless something or someone pushes us centre stage. IunderstoodthatIhadgotthatpushandwasdeterminedtouseallmyknowledgeandingenuitytomakethehovercraftprojectasuccess.Thereweremanywithintheorganizationwhoquestionedtherelevanceoftheproject—oftheamountoftimeandmoneyitwasusingup.Theyquestionedmyroleinit,too.ButmyteamandIjustputourheadsdownandcontinuedtowork.Slowly,stage-by-stage,theprototype started to take shape. As had once happened when ProfessorSrinivasan rejectedmydesignwork atMITand I redidmyentirework in thespanof twonights, I again foundnow that themind isunbelievablyelastic. Itcanexpandasmuchasyouletit,andonceitopensup,therearenobarriers—thebeliefinyourselfthatcomesasaresultissomethingnoonecantakeawayfromyou.

TheprojectwaschristenedNandi,andhadtheblessingsofthethendefenceminister,V.K.KrishnaMenon.Hefirmlybelievedthatthiswasthebeginningofthedevelopmentof defence equipment in India.Hekeenly followedourworkand after one year, when he inspected the progress we hadmade, he told DrMedirattathatKalamandhisteamaresuretosucceed.

Indeed,wedidsucceed.Beforeourthreeyearswereup,weproducedafullyworking prototype andwere ready to show it to theminister. KrishnaMenonflewintheNandiandIpilotedit—thoughhissecuritydetailwouldhavewishedotherwise—and I realized for the first time the sheer joy and exhilaration ofcreatingsomething,basedonourknowledgeandteamwork,thatwasafirstforthe country. Unfortunately, the story ofNandi does not have a happy ending.Once Krishna Menon was out of office, his successors did not share hisoptimismabouttheuseofthehovercraft.Itbecameacontroversialsubjectandwasfinallyshelved.Ifanythingcouldbringmedowntoearthandshowmethatsometimestheskywasnotthelimit,itwasthisrudelesson—thatoftentherearepowersgreaterthanyourswhodictatetheconsequencesofyourwork.Myotherlessonwasthatwhile thereareareasthatIcannotinfluence,Icancertainlydomywork to the best and to themost ofmy abilities, as finally that is all that

remains in one's hands. And who knows just where the consequences of ouractionslie?WhileIwasstilltryingtorecoverfromthedisappointmentofNandinotbeingputtotheuseforwhichitwascreated,achainofeventsledProfessorM.G.K.Menon ofTIFR to come see it and questionme about it. This finallyendedwithme going towork for INCOSPAR as a rocket engineer, under thedirectionofDrVikramSarabhai.

AfterIwenttoworkatINCOSPARandthenISRO,Iwasentrustedwiththedevelopment of various types of rockets and space vehicles, ranging fromsounding rockets to rocket payloads to satellite launch vehicles. It was DrSarabhai's vision to develop India's space programme as one where variousdevelopmentalworkhappenedconcurrently,andIwasfortunatetobeapartofanumber of suchprojects.However, the one that I regard asmymost complexchallenge has to be the development of the SLV. I was leading a mammothprojectofdevelopingalaunchvehiclethatwouldputsatellitesintoorbit.Ithadthepotential tonotonlyenhanceourpositionasa technology-drivennation, itwould also generate revenues for us by providing launch facilities to othercountries who wished to use the SLV to put their satellites into orbit. I havedescribedindetailmyjourneyinthebuildingofSLVinmybook,WingsofFire.It was an extraordinarily difficult journey on account of many factors. Therewere the invariable complications that arise when a project of this size isdeveloped.Weweregivenabudget—bothintermsoftimeandresource—anditwasmy responsibility to see thatwe achieved the resultwithin that budget. Itwas also a time of great personal stress forme. Forwithin the space of threeyears I lost threedear ones—Ahmed Jalalluddin,my father andmymother. ItwasonlybydrowningmyselfinmyworkandkeepingmymindfirmlyfocusedontheendresultthatweneededtodeliverthatIwasabletobringtheprojecttofruition.

If I am asked now as to what were the biggest lessons I learnt in thedevelopmentof theSLV, Iwill say thereare threeaspects.Therewas the firstrevelation to me about the role of science and technology, research andengineeringinthedevelopmentofacountry.Inthenumberofteamsthatwereworkingon theSLV therewere scientists, researchers andengineers.Whodidwhatandwhere—asateamleader,Iwasmeanttodrawlinesandgivedirection.I learnt that science is open-ended and exploratory. That it sets out to findanswerslikeatravellergoesonavoyage.Itis,infact,avoyageintoallthatispossibleandallthatwillonedaybeexplainedandmadepossible.Scienceisajoyandpassion.Development,ontheotherhand, isaclosedloop.It takes theworkdonebyscientistsandmoves ita fewsteps further. Itdoesnotallowformistakesandexploration.Infact,itusesmistakesformakingmodificationsand

upgradations. So where the scientists showed us the way and opened uppossibilities that enabled us to build an indigenously designed and developedlaunchvehicle, theengineerskeptusonthepathofresults,giventhetimeandresourceswehadonhand.Foraprojectofthisnaturetosucceed,itneededallthesepartstoworkintandemandinsync,likethepiecesofanorchestra.

Thesecondlessonthatcametomewasaboutthenatureofcommitment.Inthoseyears,whileImyselfthoughtoflittleelseotherthantheproject,thereweremanyotherslikemewhoputintremendousamountsofhardworkandpassionintoit.Yet,morevaluablewordsofwisdomonthiswereneversaidtomethanthose byWernher vonBraun.A giant in the field of rocketry, vonBraun haddevelopedtheV-2missilesthatdestroyedLondonduringWorldWarII.Later,hewas inducted into NASA's rocketry programme, where he created the Jupitermissilethatwasthefirstmissilewithahighrange.Hewasascientist,designer,engineer,administratorandatechnologymanager.Hewas,indeed,thefatherofmodern rocketry. Ihad theprivilegeof flyingwithhimwhenhevisited India,whenIreceivedhimatChennaiandescortedhimtoThumba.Hiswordstomeaboutthewholenatureofourworkarestillingrainedinmymind. 'Youshouldalways remember that we don't just build on successes, we also build onfailures.'On the inevitable hardwork and dedication required by those in ourprofessionhesaid,'Hardworkisnotenoughinrocketry.Itisnotasportwheremerehardworkcan fetchyouhonours.Here, notonlydoyouhave tohave agoal,butyoualsoneedstrategiestoachieveitasfastaspossible.

'Total commitment is not just hardwork, it is total involvement. It is alsoaboutsettingagoal.Itishavingagoalinfrontofyouthatmakesadifferencetothe final outcome of your hard work.' And these words, that I believe I didfollow: 'Donotmake rocketryyour profession, your livelihood—make it yourreligion,yourmission.'AtthattimeinlifeIputeverythingotherthantheSLVprojectonhold.Ialsolearnttomanagestress.It isthewayyourmindhandlesthedifficultiesthatarestrewninthepathofyourgoalthatdeterminestheresult.Itrulybelieveweneedthesedifficultiesinordertoenjoythefinalsuccessofanymission.

And this leads on tomy third lesson from the SLVproject—the ability todeal with setbacks and learn from them. It is now well known that the firstexperimentalflighttrialoftheSLV-3endedindisaster—thevehicleplungedintothesea.Stage1performedperfectly.Itwasatthesecondstagethatthingswentout of control. The flight was terminated after 317 seconds and the vehicle'sremains,includingthefourthstagewiththepayload,splashedintothesea,560kilometresoffSriharikota.

Iwas numbed beyond belief at the turn of events.Yes, I had experienced

failures and setbacks earlier, but this, coming at the end of years of back-breakinghardwork,wasdifficulttoabsorb.Ihadnoanswersasthethoughtkeptracingroundandroundinmyhead—'Whatwentwrong?'Iwasattheendofmyphysical capabilities as I had been putting up with enormous stress and now,whenallofithadcometonought,therewasnothingIcouldsaytomyselfortothosearoundmethatmadeanysense.Finally,all Icould thinkofwassleep. Ihadtosleep,Itoldmyself,beforeIcouldgoanyfurtheronthispathofanalysis.I remember Imust have slept formany hours, andwas awoken gently byDrBrahmPrakash.Hewasthenmyboss,butatthetimehecametomeonlyasanelder,withconcern.Hewokemeupandmademeaccompanyhimtothemessforameal.Weatetogetherandallthetimehegavemesolacebynotutteringasingle word about the launch. The analysis and the rebuilding of themissionwouldcomelater.Atthatmomentintimewewerejusttwomen,tiredbeyondbelief,yetknowingthatwhatwehadcreatedwouldnotcometowaste.Weknewwe hadmoremountains to climb and higher peaks to conquer in the days tocome,butrightthenhetookmeunderhiswingsanddidwhataparentwoulddotoachildafterhehaslostthatcovetedrace—givehimfood,lethimrestandlethimthinkwherethenextsteplies.

And thatwasperhaps themost important lesson I learnt fromSLV-3.Thathumaneness,generosityandunderstandingcanneverletyoudown.Attheendoftheday,whengoalshavebeensetandmapped,whenthepathhasbeentraversedandobstaclesmetheadon,itisonlythevaluesofhumanitythatwillbringtruesuccour. To be able to be gentle and forgiving, compassionate and kind arefinallyallweneedtobeintimestocome,whetherwedevelopmissilesorteachinaschool;whetherweholdhighofficesorareparentsbringingupchildreninthisconfusingworldofours.

Myjourneyintotheworldofsciencegoesonmuchfurtherfromhere—fromISROImoved toDRDO,where Iwaspartof the teams thatbuilt India's firstindigenousmissilesystems—thePrithvi,Trishul,NagandAgni.HowtheywerebuiltandthepathstheyledusonIhavechronicledearliertoo.Whileworkingonthem,notonlydidIunderstandandassimilatetheknowledgeaboutnewareasofscience and rocketry, I also learnt to innovate, to lead more effectively, tocommunicateandtoabsorbbothsetbacksandsuccesses.

WhydoIneedtotellthesestories?PerhapsbecauseIfeelthatinthediverserangeofsubjectsandpeopleIhavedealtwith,Ihaveencounteredalmosteveryaspectoflifethatcanbebewildering.Iworkedmywaythroughthem,andifinmyrecountingIcanhelpothersinsimilarsituationsunderstandthevagariesoflife,thenIwillbelievethatthisjourneyofminehasbeenlivednotjustformebutforcountlessotherstoo.

IamawellinthisgreatlandLookingatitsmillionsofboysandgirls

Todrawfromme

Theinexhaustibledivinity

AndspreadHisgraceeverywhereAsdoesthewaterdrawnfromawell.

his clutch of stories consists of little vignettes of my life that touch uponmomentsandpeople,timeandplacesthathaveleftadeepimpactuponme.

Needlesstosay,whenonebeginstorememberandrecountsuchmomentsfromone'slife—andifithasbeenasfullandbusyasmine—therearehundredsmorethat can be told. In my mind, my years as the scientific adviser to theGovernment of India when India conducted its second nuclear test, myretirementanddedicationtoteachingthereafterandmyyearsasthePresidentofIndia,allholdstoriesofinnumerablechallengesandlearning.

AsIsteppedfurtherandfurtherintotheglareofthemediawiththelaunchofAgniandsubsequentevents,IhadtodrawfromthelessonsIlearntearlyinlifetodealwithallsortsofdecisionsandconundrums.Myprioritiesandaimsalsounderwent subtle changes. Whereas earlier I was involved more withimplementing anddoing, now I entered amore reflectiveperiodwhen I spenttime thinking, writing and talking with people from all walks of life. As theyearswent by, I found thatmygreat interest now lay in interactingmore andmorewiththeyouthofthecountry.Iwentontowriteanumberofbookswhichwere successful, perhaps because the readers recognized them to be missionstatements of amanwho saw a certain vision of India for the year 2020, andwhowastryingtoworkonthevisionandarticulateittothecountryatthesametime. My work on my books, India 2020, Wings of Fire, Ignited Minds andothers have been deeply satisfying for the great enthusiasm with which theywerereceivedbythereadingpublicofthecountry.

WhileIexpressedmyvisionanddreamforthecountrythroughmylectures,interactions,articlesandbooks,Ialsobecameinterestedinmanyotherareasoftechnology.Ihadtheuniqueexperienceinthe1990sofhelpingtoformulatetheIndiaVision 2020 strategies. Iwas given the task of chairing the TechnologyInformation,ForecastingandAssessmentCouncil(TIFAC).InthefirstmeetingofthecouncilitselfwetookadecisionthatTIFACmustevolveaplanonhowIndia can be transformed into an economically developed nation by the year2020.Ata timewhen theeconomywasgrowingataround5 to6percentperannum in GDP, we had to envisage a growth rate of at least 10 per cent perannum consistently for over ten years if the development vision of a billionpeoplewastobefulfilled.Thistaskreallyignitedthemindsofallofusinthecouncil.Wedebatedandarrivedatseventeentaskteamswithover500members,whohadconsultationswithover5,000peopleinvarioussectorsoftheeconomy.Committeesworkedforovertwoyears,resultingintwenty-fivereportsthatwe

presented to the then prime minister of India on 2 August 1996. This is anexcellentexampleofhowdifferentdepartmentsandorganizationsworkedinanintegrated way for national development. While our work at TIFAC wasprogressing,Ialsostudiedwhatwasbeingdoneinthefieldsofagricultureandinformationtechnologywithalotofinterest,andthatbecameanabidingpassionfor me. As I travelled all over the country meeting students and teachers,administratorsandofficials,Iunderstoodthatworkingonavisionwasonlythefirst part ofmywork.Onlywhen one can express themission, explain it anddebateaboutitdoesthevisionacquirelife.Idecidedtodojustthatbytalkingtopeople wherever I went, about the need to make India a knowledge-basedsociety,acountrywheretechnologybringsempowerment,yetatthesametimewecontinuetoacknowledgeanddevelopourspiritualdimensions.

MytermasthePresidentofIndia,from2002to2007,Inowlookbackonasone longlesson inunderstanding thewonder that is India.ThemediagavemethenamePeople'sPresident,whichwaspickedupbymanyacrossthecountry.AndImustsayIwashappytobereferredtoassuch.WhenIstartedmytenure,Iwas very sure that I intended to spend asmuch time as possible touring thisendlessly complex and fascinating country that is ours. I wanted to see howpeoplelivedindifferentparts,theenvironmentthatformedtheirlives,whattheirproblemsareandhowthesewerebeingsolved—orweretheybeingsolvedatall.Itwas said that asPresident of the country, I toured itmore thanperhaps anyotherbeforeme.FromtheslopesofSiachentothebeautifulnortheasternstates,from the far western regions of the country to the deep south, I went almosteverywhere except Lakshwadeep (which will remain a regret). I travelled byroad, by air and even by rail on three occasions, when the old presidentialrailway carriage was refurbished and upgraded with modern facilities likesatellitemapping,andIhavetosayIsawthecountryfromallkindsofangles,forwhichIwillbeeternallygrateful.

What did I learn from the hundreds, no, millions of men, women andchildrenthatImetintheseyears?Ilearntthatasasocietywearetrainedtonotquestionthestatusquo.ItrequiresalotofcoaxingandencouragementtomakeeventheyoungpeopleImetinschoolstoopenupandasktheirquestions.Atthesametime,thisdoesnotmeanthatthequestionsarenotthere.Theyarewaiting,bubbling at the surface.Once the gates are opened, the dams burst forthwitheagerness and inquisitiveness. I have been asked questions on science,technology, space, the arts and I have been asked questions on why I haveremainedabachelorandwhyIwearmyhair thewayIdo!ToeachquestionItriedtogiveananswer—onethatwaswellthoughtout,sincereandasdetailedaspossible.IalsotoldthemthatImyselfamstillverymuchaseeker.Icameto

themasmuchtospeakanddebateastoseektheanswersthatIwaslookingformyself.IunderstoodthenwhatitmeanstobeanIndian,whatitmeanstobeamanorawomaninthiscountry,howeachoneofusshapesthesocietywhileweeachliveourlives,andwhatcanonedowiththisunderstanding.

Theyearsofmypresidencyalsohaditsshareofpoliticalupheavals,whichIhavewrittenaboutinmylastbook,TurningPoints.Astheconstitutionalheadofthe country, I became intricately involved in the democratic process.ThewayParliament and other institutions functioned, and how the President can bringaboutchangesintheareasofhisinfluencewerethoughtsthatpreoccupiedalotofmytime.

AftermytermasPresidentwasover,Ihappilyreturnedtomyearlierlifeofteachingandlecturingthattookmealloverthecountryandabroad.Ifpossible,Iwas perhaps as busy, if notmore, as Iworked tirelessly to pushmy favouriteprojects,India2020andProvidingUrbanAmenities inRuralAreas(PURA).Ihave continued tomeet students, pursued research in universities in India andabroad,andcontributedmyviewsonnationalissues.Ivisitremoteareasinordertotalktostudentsthereandgivethemalargervisionfortheirfuture.Theyoftenquestionmeonmanythings—fromwhatsubjectstheyshouldstudyinthehigherclassestoinfrastructuralissuesintheirtownsanddistricts.

Thisbook,however, isnotmeant tobea linearaccountofmy life. Ihavedone thatearlier.This littlebook is likea restingplaceona longandwindingroad. It is that spot you spy on the highway where you veer away from theonrushingtraffictostopandwatchtherestoftheworldpassbywhileyoumulloverthejourneyyouhavetakensofar.ItisperhapsalittlestoponthetrainthatI took fromMadras toDehraDun once upon a time,when I saw the countryfrom the southern tip to the northern reaches for the first time. This time,however,myeyesarenotfocusedonthedestinationalone.Icanturnbackandwonderatthemagicalbeginningoflife—Icanseemyfatherwalkinghomewithhis coconuts, hismind alightwith prayer; I can follow themovements ofmymother'shandsasshepreparesthechutneysandsambarandriceforthedayforusandasshebeckonsmetocomesitbyheronthekitchenfloor;Icanclosemyeyesandheartheroarofwavesandthecrashingofthewindagainstthetreesasthe cyclones strikeRameswaram; I can still feel the tiredness inmy legs andarms after a day that began and ended with delivering newspapers and thencollecting themoney for them. I can also hear voices andwords as clearly asthough theywere spokenyesterday. I canhearmy father tellme, 'I knowyouhave to go away to grow. Does the seagull not fly across the sun, alone andwithoutanest?Youmustforegoyourlongingforthelandofyourmemoriestomoveintothedwellingplaceofyourgreaterdesires;ourlovewillnotbindyou,

norwillourneedsholdyou.'At this restful spot I canstopandwait formyco-travellers towalkbyme

onemoretime.FromPakshiLakshmanaSastrygal,ReverendIyaduraiSolomon,Ahmed Jalalluddin to Dr Vikram Sarabhai, Professor Satish Dhawan and DrBrahm Prakash, I think ofmany others like themwho deeply influencedme,mouldedandshapedmythoughtsandintellect.Whiletellingtheirstories,theirpresencehasbecomemoredeeplyfeltthaneverbeforeforme.Thegerminationofthoughtsplantedinmysoulbythesepeoplehascontinuedyearsaftertheyleftmyside.WhenIhavesharedthesewithyou,myreader,Ihopesomeseedshavebeenplantedinyourmindstoo,thewaytheyoncecametome.Thistransferofthoughtsandideas,idealsandprinciplesisapartofthecirclethatislife.

Hardworkandpiety,studyandlearning,compassionandforgiveness—thesehave been the cornerstones ofmy life. I have now sharedwith theworld theroots of these features. In fact, any life that has been lived to the full, whentalked aboutwith others, is a treasure houseof thoughts and feelings that addlustretothewonderthatislife.Intheprocess,iftheyalsogivemyreaderswingsandhelpthemtofiretheirdreams,IbelieveIwouldhaveplayedmysmallpartintheschemeoflifethatdestinyplacedmein.

acknowledgements

MyJourneyisindeedanaccountofalifefullofevents.Fornearlytwenty-twoyears,my friend,HarrySheridon,hasbeenwithmeandbecomepartofmanyeventsastheyunfolded.Withme,hehasseenmanyhappytimesaswellasthosefilledwithproblems.Throughthickandthin,Sheridonhasalwaysbeenwithmeandhasbeenofgreatassistance inwhatever Ido.MayGodblesshimandhisfamily.IwouldliketothankSudeshnaShomeGhoshofRupaPublications,whowaswithmefromconception,designtotheshapingofthebook.Shehasbeenfollowingupcontinuously,withperseverance,inbringingitout.Igreetherforherefforts.