My Dear Little Brother,

I can't believe you didn't recognize me. On the other hand, I instantly recognized you the moment I saw you yesterday. I have been waiting all these years for this one moment.... the moment when I could meet with you again. You don't remember me? We met four years ago, yesterday. A day before the great person's birth anniversary.

I have read all of Dr. Kalam's books. The Wings of Fire is one that I constantly carry around with me. The book is on my table as I write this. I had come to the place we met in the following year of 2016 with a copy of the Wings of Fire. But alas! It was only when I saw you in the distance that I remembered that you did not know how to read English! How foolish of me! I wish I had got the Tamil version. I kept trying to meet you, getting down at Ramanathapuram Railway Station during my train journeys but only to be unable to see you. And I never did. And we never met....

Anyway, coming to the present....

.... yesterday I had made enquires as to your whereabouts. And that's when I came to know. You help so many people in need in your neighbourhood. You feed stray animals – cows, dogs, donkeys <word smudged>. And you undertake all these <word smudged> while you yourself are poor! What you do is completely contrary to all the greed that plaques our society. I wonder how you have managed to remain the gem that you are in spite of this wretched world that should have punished you beyond belief for having such a golden heart!

I just couldn't.... my tears are smudging the words above, but I hope you can read through nevertheless. I just couldn't believe when you said that you take care of Jeera and her calf just like you would of a sister and her child. I know that you meant every word of it. In this country where almost everyone, from the rural farmer to the manager of a dairy unit, kills or abandons a male calf that is born, you not only keep him but you also take care of him like your sister's child! In terms of economics that would be a grave mistake: calves are an unavoidable byproduct of the dairy industry that eat away at your profit. So in that view you have failed. But when measured using the metric of humanity, you are nothing short of a saint! "My children may ask for food when they feel hungry.... Jeera and Veera are unable to. So as their caretaker it is my duty to make sure that they are well fed, that it is." These words keep ringing through my ears! Even now as I pen this letter I can hear them. It were these words that made me tear up. I don't know how I will face you with a crying face....

Let me take you back to the beginning. The day I first saw you. October 14th, 2015. It was a Wednesday.

My mother had died when I was two. It was my father who single-handedly brought me up. He owned a ferry service. We had two passenger boats that gave us decent revenue. But in the December of 2014 one of our boats had collided with another vessel causing damage to both vessels. Father had forgotten to renew the insurance of our boat and our boatman did not have the license to operate a steamer. So we had to pay the entire compensation from our pockets. That drove my father into debt. He couldn't afford to pay the staff anymore and he took it upon himself to operate the ferry with the help of a single assistant. My pocket money thinned. And then it became non-existent. My transformation from the son of an affluent father who would buy movie tickets for his buddies to the guy who could not even afford to buy snacks for himself was debilitating! People didn't believe that I had gone from riches to rags in a matter of months. My friend circle shrunk. And then it became nonexistent. The ones whose lunches, football boots, t-shirts and what not I had paid for all seemed to forget that I had ever been friends with them. Nobody wanted me. I was slowly sinking into depression. And then came that day. Father had taken the boat out on a stormy night despite the government warning against it. The boat went down, taking father down with it. And there I was in my hostel room... orphaned and unable to even purchase a ticket to return home. I had literally no money on me.

With some vain courage I mustered up, I hit upon this brilliant idea that I would climb a train back home and not be caught ticketless. I got into a morning train and my plan seemed to be working out fine. But it was only until a ticket checker came and the worst case scenario that I had so naively hoped against, started playing out. I was kicked out at Ramanathapuram Railway Station and I remember pulling my purple hood over my head to shield me from the scornful gazes of other travelers. I was hungry and the smell of food being eaten by others around me was adding to my torment. I sat on a bench and looked into the railway tracks. To just jump into an oncoming train seemed so tempting. The world was so unfair to me! I had lost everything for no fault of mine. To survive without money, to live with the shame of having nothing in your pocket! I decided that 'I will die with my head raised up than live with it bowed down.' At that time that line seemed honourable. I heard the sound of an air horn in the distance, signaling that a train would approach in minutes. I knew what I had to do and I was going to go through with it. I would jump.

That is when it happened. A boy, in his early or mid teens, pushing a bicycle came my way. He stopped near me and filled a cup with tea. The smell of the beverage enticed me more than the expensive buffets father had taken me to. But I hadn't any money on me so I told him that I don't want any. But he insisted. He handed it to me and said that he didn't want money and that it was enough that I had something to drink. The boy left for he had to sell tea to others on the platform.

I had my first taste of the tea. One small sip. It tasted soooooo good! I felt tears streaming down. I placed the cup beside me and covered my face with my palms. The enhanced taste was as much due to my hunger as it was from the act of kindness that the cup of tea was.

"Big brother!"

I removed my palms to see the boy again.

"Why are you crying?" He asked.

I wiped my face. "I'm not."

"Come big brother, it is going to be a while until the next train arrives. I think I will give you company till then." He sat beside me. "Big brother, do you mind telling me why you are unhappy?"

"I don't have any money." The words were out before I knew it. I couldn't believe I was pouring out to a kid.

"Ayyo. That is no reason to be unhappy. You know I was also once unhappy."

I just ignored his words.

"I will tell you my story big brother. But only if you have your tea."

I took the cup and started drinking.

"You see big brother, my father was a manual labourer. He used to earn well enough to provide for us all. Then one day he died. And suddenly, we had no one to provide for us. Mother started working as a washerwoman, but she couldn't earn enough to sustain us. It was pitiable.... we didn't even have enough to eat.

There is one thing I could not tolerate and that was my sister crying. So I used to give her my food and leave the house saying that I'd eat from my friend's home. But in reality I used to walk the streets and plead with people for food. It was terrible. One day I woke up and mother said that there is nothing to eat in the morning and that she would get food for us in the evening. I had been saving up a few biscuits since a few days and I gave it to my sister. My stomach churned and I left home. I reached this very railway platform. You see that shop over there?"

He pointed to a small platform shop that sold biscuits, potato chips and other eatables.

"I saw there was a packet of bread hanging and almost falling off the edge of the display end. The shopkeeper inside was distracted. It was so tempting! I sneaked over and pulled the packet of bread. The shopkeeper didn't know what had happened as he was distracted by something inside his shop. But as I turned to get away with my food, I felt someone grip the back of my shirt collar. I turned and saw a man calling out to the shopkeeper. I was caught red-handed. The shopkeeper came over and snatched the packet of bread from me. A crowd gathered around. I bowed my head down. I felt a sense of shame I had never felt before. People were calling me a thief and saying that I should be handed over to the police. My gaze remained fixed onto the floor. In a few seconds I couldn't hear anything as my eyes welled up and ears cancelled out all noises around.

That is when it happened. I felt an arm around my shoulder. At first I just kept looking down, but then I noticed that the person whose arm was around me was standing beside me and not against me. He was talking to the shopkeeper and to the crowd. The people who had gathered around began dispersing. For the first time I looked up. He had thick glasses and graying hair. He took me to the canteen. He asked if I was hungry. I said that I wasn't. He ordered a plate of food for me. But adamant to keep up the impression that I am not hungry I refused to eat. Then he said, 'Fine my child, if you are not hungry then wouldn't you like to have a glass of tea?' To this I agreed. He told me that he was a retired school teacher. He told me that the next train halt after this station is Rameshwaram, the birth place of Abdul Kalam Sir, the President of India. He told me that President Kalam Sir was also not privileged like me and used to sell newspapers in the beginning. The ordinary newspaper boy from a small town aspired to become a pilot.... but unfortunately couldn't. But he went on to be the 'Missile Man of India' and the 'People's President'. He told me that President Kalam Sir was working hard to make lives of unfortunate ones better. 'And while he does that, it is our duty to do our part and live an honourable life.' That conversation over a cup of tea changed my life. And it was after this that I took up selling tea here."

I listened to each word like a child transfixed by the narration of a fairytale. And then came the next train and the boy was off. Of course there is more to this story which I will tell you, but first let me tell you a little about myself and how my meeting with this young boy changed me.

First I needed to get through each day. I let go of my ego and took a job in a laundry shop. By the end of the first week I got ₹ 800. Time was hard but I did not spend a single Rupee form it: I was saving it for the little boy whom I met at the railway station. I read about Dr. Kalam and his Vision for India and wanted to do my part in making that vision reality. Then I decided to focus on my studies and also focus equally on Dr. Kalam's Vision. I prepared for the Civil Services exams alongside my engineering studies. I wanted to be an IAS Officer and aid India Vision 2020 the best I can. I graduated and gave the Civil Services exams. Despite having prepared by myself I cleared the Prelims. And I cleared the Mains also. But unfortunately I didn't get the rank I was hoping for and the ones before me all opted for IAS leaving me with the option to choose IPS or IFS. I chose IPS. This is my first job posting. Yesterday, the day I saw you, was my first day on job. Call it fate, but every attempt of mine to meet you after 2015 was foiled. I guess it was destiny that I should meet you like this, in the right time, on the right day.

Coming back to my earlier meeting....

.... so the boy left once the next train arrived. I finished the tea. I realized that what was in this paper cup was more than liquid beverage.... it was the golden heart of the person who had made it. As the train left and the platform cleared, the boy was back. This time I had regained some of my composure.

"Little brother, I would like to pay you but unfortunately I do not have any money on me!" I told him.

"Forget it big brother. You drinking tea is all the payment I need. I could tell that you were hungry. That is because in the past I have also been hungry. I know the pain and I don't want someone else to go through it if I can help them." The boy smiled.

"I will return here next year on this very same day. And I will give you all the money I have little brother." I was determined to pay the boy who had given me so much more than tea.

"No big brother. I cannot accept that. I give you tea because it is what I want to do. I do it without wanting anything in return. So if you give me money, I cannot accept it."

I tried to persuade him, but the boy made it clear that he would not accept any money from me. Someone called out and the boy was off, pushing his cycle towards the customer.

I stared down into the empty tea cup. I noticed the cream coloured insides were stained light brown from the tea that it held. There was dark tea powder spread around the base of it.

"Big brother!"

I saw a filled cup of tea hovering over the empty cup that I held. But something was different. The hand was not that of a boy, but bigger. And it was dressed in a dark navy blue full sleeve of an Indian Suit. I looked forward and I saw not the boy but the late former President of India smiling back at me.

Warm tears streamed down my cheeks.

Now coming to the present.... by updating your passbook I saw that you have only ₹ 542.46 in your bank. I must apologize for I have made a single transaction into your bank account. My first salary from the laundry shop was ₹ 800. My first salary as an I.P.S. Officer was ₹ 62,422. I have put these first salaries of mine into your account. Your new balance is ₹ 63,764.46. I must apologize for I know you had said that you will not accept money from me but still I did it anyway for it was within my power. Please forgive me for that, but that money is only a fraction of what is owed to you.

A final recap to 14th October 2015....

.... the boy left after handing me a second cup of tea. And as my eyes trailed his little steps pushing a cycle alongside, I felt a comforting warmth and could hear a flapping of wings. I knew what it was. It was the Wings of Fire that the little boy possessed. Looking at your passbook I now know that that boy's name was Reeshikesh and that he was only 14 years old on that day.

From the bottom of my heart I thank you Reeshikesh, you saved me from jumping to death four years ago. You gave me hope to live on in this world. And I know that the image of Dr. Kalam that I saw on that day was not a hallucination or illusion.... he continues to live on inside people like you!

Forever indebted to you,

Your big brother

R.L.D. Tamilrasan