I first came to know about APJ Abdul Kalam and his rise from humble beginnings in Rameswaram to the upper echelons of India’s military-scientific establishment when I was in high school. My father would encourage me to read articles about Kalam that occasionally appeared in Tamil magazines during my college years.

And I have been reading him and about him avidly since then. He has been among the few constant sources of inspiration and admiration during my times of personal and professional uncertainties.

My first chance to interact with him was in 1998 with a group of journalists while working for The Indian Express as a science reporter. He had come to Mumbai sometime after the Pokhran-2 nuclear tests. That meeting lasted for about 30 minutes and was followed by buffet lunch hosted by the department of atomic energy.

I was so overwhelmed seeing one of my heroes at close quarters that my reporting duty to ask questions about the controversy over the magnitude of explosive yields of the Pokhran-2 tests took a backseat. In any case, his responses were cryptic and didn’t say anything new that wasn’t there in the official press release. Kalam ate some vegetables and curd rice, while many of us filled our lunch plates like gluttons. I just watched him with admiration. That brief personal encounter with him left a huge impact.

My decision to pursue doctoral studies in nuclear engineering the following year in the US was partly motivated by the desire to understand nuclear technology issues and the national security implications of Pokhran-2 tests, and prepare for building a new career in science and technology policy.

Undimmed admiration

Living and working outside the country for many years did not dim my interest in following the news about him.

I am aware that Kalam’s worldview and development ideas lacked the rigour and sophistication to impress many discerning minds in the scientific and policy community. His policy prescriptions to address socio-economic problems frequently sounded trite. But my fondness for the man remained undiminished and continued to grow over the years.

I have always marvelled at Kalam’s magical ability to connect with young India. With the possible exception of Jawaharlal Nehru, I cannot think of another public figure in post-independent India who so endeared himself to people, cutting across ethnic, religious, caste, class, and age divides. When Kalam became President in 2002, I was elated like many others and believed his addition to India’s public life was divine intervention to stem the tide of cynicism prevalent across the country.

Kalam’s presidential years demonstrated the impact of persons with unimpeachable personal integrity and high standards of personal morality and ethics adorning high office. I secretly desired him to stay President as long as his health would permit, and naively believed that his popularity would persuade political parties to re-elect him for a second term in 2007.

My second and last meeting with the ‘People’s President’ was also brief, in 2006 when he came to the National University of Singapore to address faculty and students.

Students first

It was clear he preferred to interact with the students rather than the faculty members, and enjoyed the same adulation in Singapore that he received in India.

As a master communicator, Kalam was able to connect immediately with students from different countries.

I have watched and heard Kalam several times over the years; the content of his talks can be repetitive and boring. But I also end up watching and listening to him on Youtube whenever my spirits are low and I need some fresh motivation to keep going.

His ability to inspire and motivate people directly and indirectly stems not from a sophisticated articulation of ideas, but from the man himself.

The highest standards in personal morality, unimpeachable personal integrity, empathy for fellow citizens, and a childlike enthusiasm to spread the message of hope about the future explain why Kalam’s magic unfailingly worked.

Kalam stood tall and unique among those engaged in public life in our generation and served as a beacon of hope and optimism about the future.

I am still in a state of disbelief that he would die so soon and without any warning. If Kalam had any premonition of his death, he would have been happy at the way he departed, doing his favourite job.

Perhaps he would have been happier had he finished that lecture.

The writer is an associate professor at and the academic head of the National Institute of Advanced Studies, Bengaluru

comment COMMENT NOW