When I first heard the word “autism,” I didn’t fully understand what it meant. My wife and I had taken our then-three-year-old son, Veer, to a doctor in Udaipur because he wasn’t talking as much as other children his age. He was more interested in the patterns on the tiles of our home than in the games his cousins played. When the doctor explained that Veer was on the autism spectrum, we felt like the earth beneath us had shifted. What would this mean for his future? Would he ever make friends or go to school like other children?

The questions seemed endless, and so did the fears. But amidst the uncertainty, one thing became clear: Veer was still the same boy who loved playing with colors and laughed uncontrollably when he succeeded in stacking cups just the way he wanted. The diagnosis hadn’t changed who he was—it had only given us a new lens through which to understand him.

Our journey started with small steps. The first milestone came when we learned to meet Veer where he was rather than where we thought he should be. Veer wasn’t interested in sitting still for storytelling sessions like other kids, but he would spend hours arranging blocks by color or watching how the sunlight created patterns on the walls. My wife suggested we lean into his interests rather than trying to redirect him all the time. It was then we discovered Veer’s love for machines—anything with buttons, gears, or moving parts would capture his attention.

One day, a local teacher introduced us to a children’s robotics kit. To my surprise, Veer sat down with it for hours, carefully assembling parts and watching how they fit together. When he successfully built his first robot—a simple one that could move forward—I saw a spark in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. It was as if the world around him had faded, leaving only him and his creation. When the robot started moving, Veer let out a squeal of delight, and I couldn’t hold back my tears. It was a moment of pure joy and connection, a reminder that every child has their unique way of shining.

Encouraged by Veer’s newfound passion, I began learning about robotics myself so I could guide him. We started with basic projects, like programming a robot to follow a straight path, and gradually moved on to more complex ones. Watching Veer’s determination as he worked through challenges taught me a lesson I’ll never forget: progress isn’t measured by comparison but by the small victories that come from perseverance.

Another significant milestone was when Veer built a robot that could sort objects by color. It was a simple project for most, but for us, it was monumental. When he demonstrated it to our family and neighbors, they were amazed. For many in our rural community, the concept of autism was still new, but seeing Veer’s talent helped them see the potential in every child. It sparked conversations about acceptance and understanding, something I now advocate for in my work with local leaders.

This journey hasn’t been without its challenges. There are days when I worry about Veer’s future and how the world will treat him. But then I look at the boy who lights up our home with his laughter, who finds joy in the simplest of things, and who shows us every day that there is strength in being different.

If I could go back and talk to the version of myself who first heard the word “autism,” I would tell him this: It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, but don’t let fear cloud the beauty of the journey ahead. Your child will teach you to see the world in ways you never imagined, and those small moments—like the laughter after a robot takes its first steps—will be worth everything.

Today, I stand not just as Veer’s father but as someone who believes in the power of understanding and inclusion. Veer may be just five years old, but he’s already taught me more about patience, resilience, and unconditional love than I could have ever learned on my own. Together, we’re building a world where every child, no matter how unique, has a chance to shine. And that, to me, is the most incredible milestone of all.