Remembering the phenomenon that is Shri APJ Abdul Kalam

There are people who come into this world, rise against all odds, do things that are hereby unimaginable for a person of their upbringing and in the process – inspire millions and billions of people across the globe. Mr. Abdul Kalam is one such person.
Not many people have caught the world’s eye the way this man had captured it. And to think that he is no more leaves a hole that is going to take a long long time to fill.
Be it his almost single handed dedication for the rise of ISRO in India, which famously gave him the title of “the missile man” to being one of the most spectacular President’s of India to being awarded the Bharat Ratna , being known as a people’s representative all through, at the core of his personality was a dream to see India restore to its glory and a world of peace of harmony- and he wished to achieve this through the future of the world- children. At the very heart of his personality was this immense simplicity and love of children that made him rise above all.
I had my first brush with Mr kalam in my 6th standard, when I was part of a quiz competition based on his autobiography “wings of fire” . His story greatly inspired me- just as it had to billions of people before. Born in a poor household with barely enough means to carry on day-to-day activities to becoming a scientist and then president to what not. There is almost nothing  this man couldn’t achieve. And it was almost impossible to not be moved and inspired by it. It only made my longing to meet him grow stronger.
Luckily for me, he decided to visit our school in Visakhapatnam in India, and even better was the fact that I was the captain of my school and so would get the honour of welcoming him. My joy knew no bounds. I was tensed as well- the last thing I wanted was to screw the moment out of my tension and excitement combined.
But none of it happened. There was a huge rush of people to see him. But none of it mattered to him. He was there to speak to the students of our school, and I was there to receive him – and the one who got his attention.
He addressed us in the assembly and delivered a message that inspired us all. And through the entire speech , I stood there beside him- soaking in as much of him that I could. I could see the excitement running through everyone, could feel the burning eyes of the future of a nation resting on the actions of a small but strong man, and I got an idea of what it is to be loved and looked up to my almost everyone you come in contact with.  I had been studying in the same school since the past 10 years, and never did I feel the very walls of the building reverberate with the voices of the students repeating after him.
I showed him an art work of his as a representative of the students, and he shook my hands and congratulated me on the good work- thinking that it was I who had made the art! I got my first hand experience of what humility is and what really makes a person “great”.
I remember him quoting that “when I die, don’t declare a holiday. Work a day harder than ever if you really love me”.
The fact that he passed away while delivering a lecture at IIM Shillong, among students- addressing them and doing something he loved the most till his very last breath goes to show what a truly remarkable man he was.
His speeches, his words, his books, his actions, his contributions to science and his very being is sure to inspire people for generations to come.
Rest in peace Mr APJ Abdul Kalam

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Alone together!

I read a wonderful article that was published in the hindu newpaper’s editorial section based on an article from the guardian;  that really drove home the point how we shouldn’t be so bogged down by loneliness and how it is nothing to be afraid off!

Here’s the article-

If you get the knack of being alone it can be a luxury you’ll learn to love

Loneliness can creep through your bones like a disease, wash over you unexpectedly as if a stranger’s vomit, or sit in the pit of your stomach for weeks like undigested chewing gum. Especially, it turns out, if you’re young.

A survey carried out by Opinium for The Big Lunch has found that 83 per cent of 18-to 34-year-olds have experienced the dull, quiet ache of being lonely, which is no surprise to me.

Of course it’s easy to be lonely in your 20s. You may sit in an office of 50 people, but if you email your colleagues rather than exchange gossip over tea in the communal kitchen then it’s hard to feel truly part of a group. If you sit on a sofa with your flatmate silently scrolling through everybody tweeting about a party you didn’t go to, you may well start to feel socially estranged. Is it so surprising that 28 per cent of people under 35 wish they had more friends?

Our constant state of remote social interaction is a twin spear of loneliness; we are both aware of all the people out there having more fun than us, while being slipshod about making our own plans. Organising drinks with friends is often little more than a rolling set of text-based delays. Are you free on Tuesday? Maybe — I’ll let you know on Monday. Do you want to do something this evening? Perhaps — let me see if I can get out of this work thing. Are you on your way? Sorry — I’ve just been held up in a meeting, but perhaps we could meet later instead?

There is something altogether lonelier about hanging suspended in social limbo than facing a blank diary. Because many people under 35 have failed to learn the noble art of being alone. Just as those four-hour car journeys to visit your granny with nothing but three rubber bands, a pencil and the swaying nausea of travel sickness used to teach us how to deal with boredom, our pre-mobile phone lives once taught us how to deal with loneliness.

I remember walking through Leeds during my first week of university utterly alone, lost, looking for Argos. It was a petri dish of potential loneliness and yet, rather than reaching for Google maps, I went into a baker to ask for directions. I ended up spending the next few minutes talking to a woman with a face the consistency of a floured bap about electric blankets. It was wonderful. And, although only 10 years ago, it now sounds like something from a Thomas Hardy novel, especially to a modern 21-year-old with a smartphone embedded in their fist.

The problem, of course, isn’t being alone, but in how we think about being alone. We fear it, pity it, do anything in our power to avoid it. And yet, in the modern frenzy of social media, smartphones and overpopulated cities, loneliness can be a luxury. Isolation, silence, the longing to be among people and forced self-reflection are all incredibly useful, especially if you want to achieve something creative.

Being on your own is how you learn to value company. Silence is what gives value to conversation. Having nobody to ask is how you work out what you really want. It may not always feel like it, but loneliness can be incredibly productive.

Being on your own is a knack, one that takes practice, and not learning it may actually be fatal: research published by Brigham Young University last month showed that loneliness can increase risk of premature death by up to 30 per cent. So you must be prepared to talk to strangers and make plans that don’t rely on others. Not just because your friends are a fickle bunch of thumb-active flakes but because doing so directly affects your chances of living to see the wrinkled side of 60.

And you are alone. Whatever your Facebook feed says. As Orson Welles, that cleft-chinned citizen of the lonely world, once said: “We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.”

You can fight loneliness, learn to love isolation, make use of the discomfort of time on your own and come to realise that sometimes the best tunes come in solos. And as you eat your sandwich in a deserted park or sit at home listening to the drip of a tap, remember this: you’re not alone in feeling lonely. — © Guardian Newspapers Limited, 2015