V Viswanathan
The year was 1959. The Place, Bangalore High Grounds, also known as Planetarium. The organisation, Aeronautical Development Establishment, a government of India Defence Research Organisation.
A motley group of youngsters was assigned to a project. These young and energetic men came from various states of India and they spoke in their own regional languages. Very few could converse in Hindi, much less in English. Soon the individuals began to settle down and get on with their tasks in right earnest. As days passed by, they slowly began to open up and started to mingle with other members within the group. Language being one of the key binding factors, most tried to befriend others who could speak their own language.
One day, a Junior Scientific Officer (JSO) from the team found a technician talking in Tamil. The officer who hailed from Tamil Nadu immediately asked the technician, “How come you speak Tamil? On a couple of occasions, I saw you talking in pure Urdu and once, I observed you talking to my Punjabi friend in Punjabi. I can see that you have many friends here. Where do you belong to?”
The technician replied, “Sir, my mother tongue is Tamil but I learnt Urdu and Punjabi while serving the Indian Air Force where I spent my earlier stint”
The words Indian Air Force brought a smile and sense of pride from the JSO and from that instant onwards, the officer and the technician became good friends. On and off, they would sit together and share lots of jokes and met frequently in the canteen for tea, both being lovers of tea.
A year later, the technician quit the organisation and took up another job in HAL (Hindustan Aeronautics Limited under the Ministry of Defence). Before the technician bade goodbye to Aeronautical Development Establishment, the two friends met and shook hands warmly. They promised to be in touch, but as destiny would have it, the duo never met again.
The JSO was the People’s President, late Dr APJ Abdul Kalam. The technician is my uncle Jagdish Bhatt, 86, living in Bangalore. Dr Kalam was 27 and my uncle 29 when they became close friends, the common thread – the mother tongue. Bhatt remembers the youthful Kalam as a sincere, simple and an intelligent person full of energy and enthusiasm.
‘If only the youth of today practise Dr Kalam’s teachings of dreaming big, taking sincere action with energy and enthusiasm to chase those dreams and standing rooted to the ground with simplicity when success comes, no doubt they can dish out a feast of tall achievements making Mother India truly proud!’ As my uncle went into his reverie recollecting the golden year he spent with India’s Missile Man, his eldest son interrupted him and brought him to ground zero, “Dad. It’s time for tea. Not with your superior – the distinguished JSO but with your juniors in the family.”
