Gerald D'Cunha

M any years ago, before the computer came in, there was something called ‘Shorthand’. Many girls would learn shorthand with the hope of becoming Secretaries to their future bosses. Understandably, the bosses were supposed to be busy… and, they had to dictate letters and messages to their Secretaries, who would note them down by using their shorthand skills. Post that, they would type the same in longhand… That was how it was when we grew up. When we grew up, we had no telephones… Only rich (or reasonably rich) had those big telephone instruments at home. Long-distance calls – which included cross-districts – meant ‘Trunk Calls’. STD came much later… and, ISD was not meant for people like us! There were Telegrams… and there were standard greetings and messages for most of the occasions, like birthdays, marriages, anniversaries, success in exams, on arrival of a new baby, Diwali, Christmas, Eid and so on. We simply needed to write the standard message nu

T hough I have lived in Mumbai for over four decades, and though I am a Christian (a Catholic in that), I have never been to St Michael’s Church at Mahim on the day of the Mother Mary Novenas i.e. on a Wednesday. I have been there on other days when the church (shrine) is almost deserted… I have sat there alone, in the overpowering silence… tears rolling down my cheeks, but asking for nothing, saying nothing, seeing nothing, but feeling everything. I do not remember thinking of whom – Mother Mary, Jesus, St. Michael or God, the Father. I just do not know what that solitary moment called, what that presence you feel called… that sense of surrender… ‘Thy will be done’! On this Monday, after my appointment with my doctor at the Hinduja Hospital, my wife and I decided to spend some quiet moments in the Mahim Church. As I said, only the side door was open… I could see only a couple of people inside (almost all of them seemed non-Christians). But, then, just like my wif

W hen   P.V. Sindhu bagged Gold at the latest Badminton World Championship, like all my fellow-Indians, I, too, felt proud and rejoiced in her glory. It’s a hard-earned glory… and, it inspired all of us. Alongside, on the same day, in the Test-cricket contest, England Vs Australia – which the cricket world hails famously as ‘Ashes’ – the England batsman, Ben Stokes, scored something which had enthused and inspired most of the cricket fans all over the world. It’s strange – at the same time very heart-warming – to observe this trend: how success and achievements inspire all of us regardless of, often, our nationalities! Sindhu is our own… and Stokes? Ironically, I hadn’t watched both these events… I got enthused and inspired only by watching how others around me had been! “All the world loves a winner and no time to spare for a loser.” When I recall this old saying, I feel sad and bad, too. Nobody plays to lose. And, nobody c

“Who lives if India doesn’t survive?” -      Mr. Arun Jaitley I first took notice of Mr. Arun Jaitley when he was a spokesperson of BJP. His party ideology aside, I have, always, admired him for his natural flow of words. His articulation was impeccable… It was not only sharp, focused and persuasive, it was, also, very bold. Even when I had disagreed, often, with his views on several issues, my admiration for his grace and demeanor, always, remained intact. I don’t’ understand politics.   I think, it’s good for me! But, a few things I do understand… ONE : Health is really wealth! When I used to watch Mr. Jaitley speak with such intensity, passion and aggression in the Parliament, during the tensed debates on Rafael controversy, I would feel bad and sad. He had just returned from the US after a prolonged treatment for cancer, kidney and many related ailments. I wished he took good care of himself, recovered well…   No medicine

\ \ J ust yesterday, 11-year-old Yash was reading out this passage from one of our old publications – ‘Late Bloomer’: “Sun shines on every one, Moon smiles at every one’ Stars twinkle for every one, Rainbow appears for every one, Rain drops fall on every one one… Then, yes, then, why should Luck smile at only some?” “Yes, why?” I asked Yash, “Why does Luck favour only some?” What can a 11-year-old say about Lady Luck and her strange ways of smiling? A few days earlier, I had told Yash this popular story… GOOD LUCK OR BAD LUCK, WHO KNOWS? T here lived, in a Chinese village, a wise old-man. He had a great horse and everyone in the village thought that the old man was the most fortunate one.  Then, one day, the horse fled into the nearby mountains. The news spread through the village and the villagers came rushing to the old-man’s house to sympathize with him on his ‘bad luck’. But, the

O nce, a Wolf was in terrible pain... A bone was stuck in his throat. When he saw a Crane around, he pleaded before her to send her long bill down his throat and pull out the bone. The Wolf made a promise, “Trust me, my friend, I will reward you handsomely for your help.” Convinced, the Crane quickly got into action. She placed her long bill in the mouth of the Wolf and took out the bone, quite effortlessly. The Wolf was relieved. “Thanks for your prompt help,” he said to the Crane and began to dash off his way. “Wait a minute, my friend,” cried out the Crane, “What about my reward?” “Ah… What about your reward!” the Wolf turned back to answer, grinding his deadly teeth, “Well, my friend, you have won a good fortune, already. You can, now, go around boasting before the whole jungle, that you had the grit and the gumption to put your head in a Wolf’s mouth and yet could walk away scot-free!” I love this story. Though I don