He read a sentence from a book—slowly, painfully, beautifully:
"அம்மா… அப்பா… நான் ஒரு நட்சத்திரம். தயவுசெய்து… என்னை மறந்துவிடாதீர்கள்." ("Amma… Appa… I am a star. Please… don’t forget me.")
The father scoffed. "Nonsense. He just needs to try harder."
His heartbroken father sent him to a strict boarding school in Coimbatore, hoping discipline would fix him. But there, the spark in Kabilan died. He stopped painting. He stopped talking. His eyes, once full of stars, became empty wells.
The judges were stunned. He won first prize.
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