My name is Kalam

From an Indian aerospace scientist to the President of India, the 'Missile Man of India' has inspired millions of people with ambitions of science and propelled our nation towards technological advancements, here's a story of one such yearning and aspiration.

Born on 15th October 1931

Oh! I forgot to mention. A frame I saw in the hallway of legends.(This Day App)

As I entered the gates of Riverside Public School, my eyes caught sight of the banner, “Science Fair, 2021”. I fancy those schools, encouraging the innovative side of their pupils, and not just compelling them to bury their dainty heads deep into the theoretical monotony. I believe the more these children create and experiment, the more this world will progress, holding the hands of some brilliant brainiacs in the field of Science.

“Hello, Mr. Shrivastav! Welcome to our institution”, the Principal warmly greeted me as he handed me a beautiful bouquet of fresh roses, decorated with ribbons. It was quite exquisite. The validation seemed chummy, and I would be lying if I didn’t say I was flattered. “Thank you for this warm gesture. Really, you didn’t need to make such grand arrangements. The students and their unique ideas is the sport alluring me to this turf.”

“Then, let’s not delay any more. The children are already bursting in exuberance” he chaperoned me to the auditorium, where the event was organized. The hallway was filled with charts and pictures of eminent personalities of our country, to inspire these little heads within the confinement, and what they perceive as under the horrors of a teacher's duress.

My appearance in the auditorium was the same as that of a commoner present there, not a chief guest. The children were so busy perfecting their inventions that they couldn’t care any less about who has stepped in. We climbed the stairs of the stage. The Principle held the microphone and announced, “Good morning, dear students. Now, when our chief guest, Mr. Ajay Shrivastav has arrived, we will be starting our Science Fair and the selection of the no.1 novelty. Before that, I invite Mr. Shrivastav and speak a few words about himself”

The hushed auditorium reverberated with claps. I began my unrehearsed introduction, “Hello, little geniuses! I am Ajay Shrivastav, an ISRO aerospace engineer. I am not here to gauge your universality, but to get inspired and absorb the special, unthought-of visions in the dimension of science and technology floating in this sphere”

There were impressive rows of erupting volcanoes, electric power from the battery of starch, pictures being clicked without a boxed camera, and many more. I was left in awe witnessing each of them. A faint ‘zzz…’ seized my curiosity towards it. I looked up and discovered it was a drone. A DRONE! A student built a damn drone!

I followed the drone’s orbit to find out who was that miraculous prodigy. Back in my mind, I was set to prove that this drone was a purchase, not invented. Finally, I saw him, the dronesmith. It was a boy of class 11; controlling it with a remote. I approached him, “Hey! Does that drone belong to you?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s mine”, the student answered. “What’s your name? And, how did you build it?”, I couldn’t suppress my curiosity any longer. “My name is Kalam, Kalam Mirza. I built the drone trailing my father’s instructions”

I was astonished by this unique name. The man I respect the most, my mentor, A. P. J. Abdul Kalam, I heard his name again after such a long time. It took me back to memory lane when he was breathing right in front of me. His voice floated around my ears. A quick snap and I was brought back to the present. Nostalgia is bittersweet, I sighed.

“Do you know the doppelganger of your name?” I asked him with a playful smile. “Absolutely. My name came from A. P. J. Abdul Kalam’s. My father was an impassioned adherent of Abdul Kalam and his works. Once, Sir Kalam visited his school for an event. There, he got a golden opportunity to exchange a few words with his hero. That’s all he needed in his life to pursue science. His most prized possession is a notebook preserving the autograph of Sir Kalam”, he said.

Was. I understood the brokenness behind this ‘was’ through the drift in his tone. Yet I collected the courage to ask him, “I am hearing a lot about your father, so where is he? Didn’t he come?”

“My father is no more. He passed away when I was 6. He left me a diary, containing all his failed and successful experiments, innovations and ideas. When he was lying on his hospital bed, he advised me, ‘My dear son, life might not be a silver platter served to you readily. You have to work hard to achieve higher proficiencies. Just like I have told you in stories of Abdul Kalam, remember? How he became an international icon from a mere nobody! You, my little Kalam, too will do great things in life, I am confident of it’, he kissed my hand as I continued to cry a river. I read the diary along with books and blogs about Sir Kalam. The diary guided me in building my father’s enfolded dreams, and Sir Kalam inspired me in aspiring to see myself as an aerospace scientist”

“The drone is also a part of your father’s legacy, right?” I added. “True. It is. And a very important one. I tried building it 3-4years before. No luck favoured me with its success. At last yesterday, I was victorious. It felt like my father smiled at me from heaven”, Kalam beamed with pleasure.

“Your father must be very proud of you”, I confirmed.

The event came to an end, and it was time for announcing a winner. I happily took Kalam’s name. I welcomed him with a pleasant hug, congratulated him simultaneously. I could see the sparkle in his eyes as he held the trophy, like his first step towards his father’s dream. And, at that moment, all I could wish for was to embrace him as my fellow ISRO-ian in the future, I chanced my faith on it.

This was story was first published on This Day.app.