Vikram was known in his school in Indore as “the angry boy.” He got angry at everything.

If someone bumped into him — he shouted. If he lost a game — he threw the bat. If his sister touched his things — he screamed. If homework was difficult — he tore his notebook!

“I can’t help it!” Vikram would say. “I just get angry!”

His friends started avoiding him. Nobody wanted to play with someone who might explode at any moment. Even his sister Sneha was afraid of him.

One summer, Vikram went to visit his grandfather — Dadaji — in a village near Ujjain. Dadaji was a calm, gentle man who never raised his voice.

“Dadaji, everyone says I’m too angry. But I can’t control it!” said Vikram.

Dadaji smiled. He gave Vikram a bag of nails and a wooden fence. “Every time you feel angry, hammer a nail into this fence.”

Day 1: Vikram hammered 12 nails! Day 2: 10 nails. Day 3: 8 nails. Slowly, as the days passed, the number decreased. Hammering nails was hard work! It was easier to control his anger than to hammer nails.

After two weeks, Vikram proudly said, “Dadaji! I didn’t hammer a single nail today! I controlled my anger all day!”

“Wonderful!” said Dadaji. “Now, for every day you DON’T get angry, pull out one nail.”

Vikram began pulling nails out. After another two weeks, all the nails were gone.

“Well done!” said Dadaji. “Now look at the fence.”

Vikram looked. The fence was full of holes — ugly, deep holes where the nails had been.

“The nails are gone,” said Dadaji gently, “but the holes remain. This is what anger does. When you shout at someone, you can say sorry later and remove the ‘nail.’ But the HOLE — the hurt — stays forever.”

Vikram stared at the holes. He finally understood.

“Every time I shouted at Sneha, at my friends — I left holes in their hearts,” he whispered.

Dadaji hugged him. “You can’t undo the old holes. But you can stop making new ones. Patience is the hammer that never leaves a mark.”

When Vikram returned home, he was a changed boy. He still felt angry sometimes — everyone does. But now, instead of shouting, he took three deep breaths. He counted to ten. He walked away and came back when he was calm.

His friends noticed. “Vikram hasn’t shouted in weeks!” said Rahul, amazed.

“The angry boy is gone,” said Sneha, hugging her brother. “The KIND boy is here.”

And that was the best compliment Vikram ever received.