Kalam
This is the story of the day I lost faith in heroes.
“But he promised he will come.”
The 15 year-old me trudged home with muddy shoes and a muddier mood. Dr. A.P.J Abdul Kalam was supposed to address school students in Berhampur, but he could not make it for some reason.
“How can he turn out to be like everyone else? Just because he became president, it doesn’t give him the right to make promises and not keep them.”
I wasn’t the only one with such dark thoughts. Hundreds of students had waited under a tent burdened by rain. There had even been a few who had slipped on the soil that was turning into slush in the heavy downpour. The children had risked their health to meet the one man who had become a beacon of inspiration. And he had not come.
The next day I went to school, having grown up a bit. Three periods went by and I did three periods worth of doodling. The subjects weren’t interesting; the lessons weren’t important. It was just another day in the classroom.
“Attention teachers and students!” the Public Address System roared. “Dr. Kalam has cancelled all his other plans to come meet the students. He said he is very sorry he couldn’t make it yesterday. Please assemble in the grounds below and we will proceed to the Stadium.”
This is the story of the day I believed in heroes again.
27th July, 2015
