A Hero In Real Life

It all began with an innocuous contest of triumph-over-adversity accounts. In 1993, in response to The Indian Express invitation, Anil Kumar picked up his calligraphic pen with his mouth and wrote five impeccable pages on how he realised his dream of becoming a fighter pilot, and then saw it shatter because of ‘‘a silly accident’’.

He narrated the turn his life took on June 28, 1988, when, after night-flying duty, he was heading back to the Air Force Station, Pathankot. Suddenly, he had hit a road barrier and flown off the bike, sustaining a cervical injury that made him a tetraplegic. Two years at the Military Hospital later, Anil Kumar — in the meantime discharged from service — admitted himself into the Paraplegic Rehabilitation Centre, Khadki (in Pune), rather than going home to Thiruvananthapuram. This is where he saw the contest announcement, and decided to put in his entry.

The article was published as he sent it, in his own writing. Readers wrote in by the dozen, but the biggest tribute came with the inclusion of the article in the Standard X English textbook of the Maharashtra State Board of Secondary and Higher Education from the 1995 academic year.

‘‘Now I get 200-odd letters a year, besides e-mail, mostly around December-January, which is when they study the chapter ‘Kumar Bharat’’’ says the gritty soldier.

For many schools, a visit to the Khadki Paraplegic Rehabilitation Centre is now part of the curriculum. ‘‘Standard X students from 8-10 schools come visiting every year,’’, says Dr (Lt-Col) S P Jyoti, medical superintendent of the Centre. ‘‘Students come from all over Maharashtra.’’

Anil Kumar, on his part, thoroughly enjoys the interaction ‘‘Once, I remember, I was recounting my struggles to a bunch of schoolgirls,’’ he says. ‘‘Suddenly, one girl broke down, and then the rest followed. Their teacher and I were at a loss. Then one of the girls, one of the very few not weeping, consoled her classmates and the cheer returned. While they were leaving this girl hugged me, and burst into tears. She told me that her father, too, had been paralysed and had subsequently died.It was a touching moment.’’

Anil Kumar makes sure he respects their emotions in the only way he knows: by responding to every letter. ‘‘Since I expect a reply when I write to someone, it is my duty to reciprocate. I use a computer now and send print-outs, but many students want a sample of my writing. So, I write a couple of sentences in each letter.’’

It is an act that gives him immense pleasure, being in itself a symbol of his victory over the bleakest chapter of his life. ‘‘I looked upon writing as a way out of the stupor the accident had left me in. It was to reaffirm my faith in myself that I decided to learn to write holding a pen in my mouth,’’ says Anil Kumar. ‘‘Initially, my scribbles were illegible, but I eventually perfected the art. Now, thanks to Wing Commander Murlidharan, my superior officer in the Air Force, I use a computer with a vertical keyboard that I can operate with a pencil.’’

While 80 per cent of his mail is from girls, Anil Kumar is as much an idol as a counsellor to them. ‘‘I get a lot of letters on personal problems. But since I’m not qualified to advise them, I tell them so. On more general matters, I’m forthcoming,’’ he says. ‘‘Once, a boy’s mother wrote to me, saying that her son, who was disinterested in studies, had turned over a new leaf after meeting me. For me, that was the ultimate compliment.’’