temple , shining sand and dancing tides in the moonlight , stars looking down from an unlit sky on a new moon night , Jallaluddin showing me the horizon sinking into the sea , arranging money for my books , and seeing me off at Santa Cruz airport . I felt that I had been thrown into a whirlpool of time and space . My father , by now more than a hundred years old , pallbearer for his son-in-law , who had been half his age ; the bereft soul of my sister Zohara , her wounds from the loss of her four-year-old son still raw — these images came before my eyes in a blur , too terrible for me to comprehend . I leaned on the assembly jig , composed myself and left a few instructions with Dr S Srinivasan , Deputy Project Director , to carry on with the work in my absence .
Travelling overnight in a combination of district buses , I reached Rameswaram only the next day . During this time , I did my best to free myself from the very past which appeared to have come to an end with Jallaluddin . But the moment I reached my house , grief assailed me afresh . I had no words for Zohara or for my niece Mehboob , both of whom were crying uncontrollably . I had no tears to shed . We sorrowfully put Jallaluddin ’ s body to rest .
My father held my hands for a long time . There were no tears in his eyes either . “ Do you not see , Abul , how the Lord lengthens the shadows ? Had it been His will , He could have made them constant . But He makes the sun their guide , little by little He shortens them . It is He who has made the night a mantle for you , and sleep a rest . Jallaluddin has gone into a long sleep — a dreamless sleep , a complete rest of all his being within simple unconsciousness . Nothing will befall us except what Allah has ordained . He is our Guardian . In Allah , my son , put your trust .” He slowly closed his wrinkled eyelids and went into a trance-like state .
Death has never frightened me . After all , everyone has to go one day . But perhaps Jallaluddin went a little too early , a little too soon . I could not bring myself to stay for long at home . I felt the whole of my inner self drowning in a sort of anxious agitation , and inner conflicts between my personal and my professional life . For many days , back in Thumba , I felt a sense of futility I had never known before — about everything I was doing .
I had long talks with Prof . Dhawan . He told me that my progress on the SLV project would bring me solace . The confusion would first lessen and would later pass away altogether . He drew my attention to the wonders of technology and its achievements .
Gradually , the hardware began emerging from the drawing boards . Sasi Kumar built a very effective network of fabrication work centres . Within days of getting a component drawing , he would embark on the fabrication with what was available . Namboodiri and Pillai were spending their days and nights at the propulsion laboratory developing four rocket motors simultaneously . MSR Dev and Sandlas drew up meticulous plans for mechanical and electrical integration of the vehicle . Madhavan Nair and Murthy examined the systems developed by the VSSC electronics laboratories and engineered them into flight sub- systems wherever it was possible . US Singh brought up the first launch ground system , comprising of telemetry , tele-command , and radar . He also chalked out a detailed work plan with SHAR for the flight trials . Dr Sundararajan closely monitored mission objectives and concurrently updated the systems . Dr Srinivasan , a competent launch vehicle designer , discharged all my complementary and supplementary functions as the SLV deputy project director . He noticed what I had overlooked , heard the