Nine-year-old Muddu was rather strong for his age. Even the older kids didn’t dare to mess with him. But the boy wasn’t really as tough as he looked. He spent a lot of time playing with other kids, and was especially kind to the weaklings. And like every normal child, he enjoyed playing and hated books. His father was getting worried. This son of his was not interested in studies, and nor was he ready to work. In a family like theirs, children had to start contributing as early as possible. But with Muddu, there wasn’t a lot of hope in that department. What was to be his future? This was the 1940s, and Bombay was the city of dreams, and it was the city of the future. Muddu’s father boarded him on a train bound for Bombay.