# THE ROBOT HELPERS
## By Vijay Sharma Erry
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# Chapter 13: Across the Distance
Boston in autumn was beautiful but alien. The crisp air, the changing leaves, the historic brick buildings of MIT—everything felt both exciting and overwhelming. Arjun stood in his dorm room, surrounded by unpacked boxes, feeling more alone than he had since the day his parents died.
His phone rang. A video call from home.
"Arjun beta!" Dadi's face filled the screen, with Dada peering over her shoulder and Akash visible in the background. "Did you arrive safely? Have you eaten? Is your room warm enough?"
Just seeing their faces made Arjun's throat tight. "I'm fine, Dadi. Just arrived. The room is small but nice."
"Show us!" Dada commanded.
Arjun gave them a virtual tour of his tiny dorm room. Akash immediately started making suggestions about optimal furniture arrangement, which made everyone laugh.
"How are you both?" Arjun asked. "Is everything okay at home?"
"Perfect," Dada assured him. "Akash has been fussing over us more than usual. I think he's nervous about being the only one in charge."
"I am not nervous," Akash's voice came from off-screen. "I am simply ensuring optimal care during Arjun's absence. There is a difference."
These daily video calls became Arjun's lifeline. No matter how busy he was with classes, research, and the overwhelming pace of MIT, he always made time to connect with his family. Through the screen, he watched Dadi's health remain stable, saw Dada's continued involvement with his army friends, heard about Maya's latest culinary experiments and Mrs. D'Souza's grandchildren.
But he also heard about challenges. Two weeks into the semester, Akash called him at 2 AM Boston time.
"Arjun, I apologize for the late hour, but I need consultation. Dada ji has developed what appears to be early symptoms of pneumonia. I have contacted Dr. Mehra, but I wanted your input on whether hospitalization is necessary."
Wide awake instantly, Arjun reviewed the data Akash sent—vital signs, symptom progression, medical history. Together, they decided to start aggressive home treatment with antibiotics while monitoring closely. If Dada's condition didn't improve within twenty-four hours, they would go to the hospital.
"You're doing everything right, Akash. Trust yourself. You've handled situations like this before."
"But you were here before. Now I am the sole decision-maker. The responsibility feels... heavier."
"Welcome to being the eldest brother," Arjun said with a tired smile. "You'll do fine. Call me every six hours with updates."
For the next three days, Arjun barely slept, monitoring Dada's condition from across the world. His professors noticed his distraction, and his roommate commented on the constant phone calls. But gradually, Dada improved. The pneumonia cleared without hospitalization, and Akash's careful monitoring and early intervention had prevented a crisis.
"You saved him," Arjun told Akash during a video call.
"We saved him," Akash corrected. "I provided care, you provided guidance. We are still a team, even across distance."
Arjun threw himself into his studies with renewed purpose. MIT's robotics program was everything he had hoped for—cutting-edge research, brilliant professors, and fellow students who shared his passion for using technology to improve lives.
He joined a research lab focused on human-robot interaction, led by Professor Jennifer Chen, a renowned expert in social robotics. When he shared his work on Akash, Priya, and Vikram during a lab meeting, the response was electric.
"This is remarkable," Professor Chen said, reviewing the data and videos. "You've achieved a level of natural interaction that most researchers only dream of. How did you program such nuanced responses?"
"I watched my grandparents," Arjun explained. "I studied what they needed—not just physically, but emotionally. The robots learned by observing, adapting, developing responses based on what actually helped versus what theoretically should help."
"That's the key," another graduate student said excitedly. "Most care robots are programmed by engineers who've never actually cared for elderly people. You programmed from experience, from love."
Professor Chen invited Arjun to co-author a paper on his work. It was unusual for a freshman to be included in such research, but his practical experience was invaluable. They spent months documenting the technical specifications, the learning algorithms, and most importantly, the outcomes—improved health markers, increased independence, enhanced quality of life.
When the paper was published in the Journal of Robotics and AI, it created a sensation. Researchers from around the world reached out, wanting to collaborate, to learn, to build on what Arjun had created.
Back in Mumbai, the impact was even more immediate. The Silver Years Foundation's expansion project accelerated. Dr. Kapoor led a team of engineers who built twelve more robots over the academic year, each one refined and improved based on lessons learned from Akash, Priya, and Vikram.
Arjun consulted remotely, reviewing designs via video call, troubleshooting problems, and ensuring that each robot maintained the core values that made the originals successful—respect, dignity, genuine care.
During winter break, Arjun returned home for three weeks. The moment he walked through the door, he was engulfed in hugs.
"You've grown!" Dadi exclaimed, though he hadn't gotten any taller.
"You look tired," Dada observed. "Are you eating properly?"
"I've been monitoring his social media," Akash said. "His eating habits are adequate but not optimal. He also sleeps less than recommended."
"Akash, you're stalking me?" Arjun laughed.
"I prefer the term 'long-distance monitoring.' Someone must ensure your welfare when you are away from family."
The house felt both familiar and different. The routines had adjusted to his absence. Akash and Maya had taken on new responsibilities. Dadi had started teaching online cooking classes—with Maya's assistance—to other elderly people interested in traditional recipes. Dada had written a memoir about his army days, dictating to Akash who served as his editor and typist.
"You've all been busy," Arjun said, feeling proud but also slightly unnecessary.
"We've adapted," Dadi said gently. "But we miss you every day. The house is quieter without you."
During that visit, Arjun met with the families who had received the new robots. He saw elderly people living independently who had been on the verge of nursing home placement. He met caregivers who were no longer exhausted and overwhelmed. He heard story after story of lives improved, dignity restored, independence preserved.
One woman grabbed his hands, tears streaming down her face. "My mother has Alzheimer's. She doesn't remember me anymore, but she loves her robot, Asha. Asha has infinite patience, never gets frustrated when my mother asks the same question fifty times. You gave me my patience back too—I can enjoy the moments when my mother is lucid instead of being exhausted by the moments when she's not. You've given us both a better quality of life."
These stories fueled Arjun through the rest of his freshman year. When classes were difficult, when he missed home, when he doubted himself, he remembered why he was working so hard.
By the end of the academic year, the Silver Years Foundation had placed robots in fifteen locations across Maharashtra. The success rate was extraordinary—hospitalizations down forty percent, caregiver burnout down sixty percent, elderly depression down fifty-five percent.
The media attention grew. Arjun did interviews with international news outlets. Time magazine featured him in an article about young innovators changing the world. TED invited him to give a talk about the intersection of technology and compassion.
But the most meaningful recognition came from an unexpected source. The Indian government announced a new initiative—the National Elderly Care Technology Program—with funding to expand robot-assisted care across the country. They wanted Arjun's input on standards, protocols, and implementation.
"You're nineteen years old," the Health Minister said during a video conference, "and you're helping us shape national policy. Your father would be incredibly proud."
That night, Arjun sat in his dorm room, looking at the pendant his grandmother had given him—the photos of his parents smiling back at him.
"I hope you're proud," he whispered. "I'm trying to honor your legacy. I'm trying to help people the way you always did."
His phone buzzed. A message from Akash: "Dada ji wants to talk to you. He says it's important."
Arjun called immediately, worried. But when Dada's face appeared on screen, he was smiling.
"I just wanted to tell you something," Dada said. "I've been thinking about legacy—what we leave behind, how we're remembered. Your father built a company. I served in the army. Those are accomplishments we're proud of. But you, Arjun—you've built something more important than buildings or battles. You've built compassion into machines. You've created technology that cares. That's a legacy that will outlive all of us."
Arjun felt tears rolling down his cheeks. "Thank you, Dada. That means everything."
After the call ended, Arjun opened his journal and wrote:
"Year one at MIT complete. I've learned advanced robotics, artificial intelligence, machine learning, and systems design. But more importantly, I've learned that the distance between Mumbai and Boston is not measured in miles but in moments—video calls that bridge continents, shared experiences that transcend physical space, love that exists regardless of location.
The robots continue to help, to serve, to care. They are no longer just my family's helpers—they are helping families across India. And this is only the beginning.
Next year, I'll work on making them more affordable, more accessible, more widespread. I'll collaborate with researchers worldwide. I'll continue building the future my father dreamed of.
But tonight, I'm just grateful—for family across the distance, for robots that learned to care, for a purpose that gives meaning to grief, and for a future that looks brighter than I ever imagined possible."
As Arjun closed his journal and prepared for bed, his phone buzzed one more time. A photo from home—Dada, Dadi, Mrs. D'Souza, Akash, and Maya, all crowded together in front of the camera, making silly faces and holding a sign that read: "We love you! Come home soon!"
He smiled, set the photo as his phone's wallpaper, and fell asleep thinking about home—not the place he had left behind, but the love that would always be with him, no matter where in the world his journey took him.
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**End of Chapter 13**
*Word Count: 1,503 words*
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**THE ROBOT HELPERS - Chapter 13**
**By Vijay Sharma Erry**
**Previous Chapter:** The Departure
**Next Chapter:** The Competition
