( A group of members living in a society resent the arrival of a family with a kid who has ADHD. The narrator, Arun, realises the agony of the parents and wishes to stand for them during the committee meeting scheduled for the weekend- Read On)
BHARAT MOBILITY GLOBAL EXPO
Venue: Pragati Maidan, New Delhi.
January 19th 2025
The matter of pride for me and my better half was that our son, Manat, the twenty-eight-year-old Mechanical engineer from IIT Kharagpur, was the technical brains at a startup booth at the exhibition.
Manat was engrossed in explaining something to international clients and investors as we approached his stall. He didn’t falter for a minute.
“All our efforts have paid off so well,” my wife said with tears of joy brimming in her eyes.
As he grew more engrossed in the incoming clients, Manat gestured for us to look at the other stalls too.
Curious, and at the same time a bit envious to see a stall more crowded than our son’s, we walked up to it. I overheard a conversation between two visitors.
“He is not from any of the premier institutes, but his confidence level and his knowledge about the subject he is dealing with can put his counterparts from premier institutes to shame.”
“To see that a boy like him who is on the ASD spectrum has become a concept designer for an Electronic Vehicle startup is laudable.”
Something in me stirred and I strained myself to get a full view of the person in the stall.
A well-built boy, almost Manat’s age, with towering height, stood at the center. Explaining things. However, he cupped his ears intermittently, making it clear that the chaotic atmosphere was a disturbance to his sensory overstimulation in the crowd.
I do not know why I felt a heaviness in my chest. I looked at my wife, who had turned almost pale. She pointed her fingers at two people. They were Hari and Sunita, the duo who had moved into our neighborhood with their hyperactive son, Rohan, nearly twenty years ago and eventually vacated.
Yes! That tall, well-built boy was none other than Rohan. He had made it to this podium!
June 2025
Hill Crest Society Mumbai
I walked home from the train station conversing with Sunita, who was holding Rohan’s hand firmly.
“I hear members in our building want us out. We have been called for the meeting this Sunday.”
“Your landlord has been called too. I will try my best to avoid this fiasco. Let me see what I can do.” I heard myself saying.
“You know how hard it was for us to learn that our kid is in the ASD spectrum. We couldn’t afford the rent near the doctor’s area, and Hari is the only earning member.” She opened up to me as a she would do to a sibling.
“I hold a post graduate degree in Economics and an M ed; too but Rohan is our priority.” She smiled throwing me off gear. I had never guessed this unassuming lady was so well educated.
My wife was like any other woman, concerned about our status in the society building. She warned me against supporting the family.
The best way I chose was to remain passive at the meeting, but I could not look straight into the eyes of the parents.
The verdict was passed. Guilt gnawed me, but what could a single person do against eighteen members up in arm to see the family vacate.
I was jolted from my thoughts as someone placed a hand on my shoulders. it was Hari. Sunita joined him and greeted us. We exchanged a few words about our sons’ stall and project.
“I am sorry,” I muttered involuntarily. “I couldn’t antagonize with the members when they wanted to…..” Hari stopped me gently.
“It was a boon in disguise. We took the decision of owning a house from where no one would ask us to go. They were hard days though. Sunita had to take up a job to fill the financial crunch, and both set of parents stepped in taking turns to look after Rohan. At the doctor’s advice, we enrolled him in a school for special kids and giving a proper channel to his interest in automobiles, he was enrolled in a specialized diploma in mechanical engineering. He is the concept designer today for a startup and we hope to get the finance for it.
Only two projects were to be chosen and funding to be done for those startups. The first name was already announced, while people waited with bated breath for the second announcement.
“And the second position, along with the funding, goes to…”
There was a pause,
“…the concept designed by Rohan.”
There was thunderous applause. Rohan suddenly cupped his ears as the applause erupted around him. Sunita immediately moved closer and held his hand.
I looked at my wife. There were tears in her eyes.
They were not tears of distress for our son.
They were tears of something else—perhaps shame, perhaps admiration, perhaps both.
Twenty years ago, we had watched Rohan as a troublesome child who did not belong in our society.
Today, the world had watched him as a designer who belonged on its biggest stage.
For years, I had carried the guilt of having remained silent when his family needed a voice.
Standing there, surrounded by applause, I finally understood something.
Sometimes, the people we push out of our lives don’t disappear.
They simply go somewhere else to prove how wrong we were.