Gerald D'Cunha

  Only by examining our personal biases can we grow as artists; Only by cultivating empathy can we grow as people.” Jen Knox   W e all have compassion in our hearts. When I put myself in other people’s shoes - feel and understand their pain – yes, this kind of compassionate feeling is known as ‘empathy’. But, the kind of empathy, which most of us display in our lives is only selective. If you are not on my side of the divide, then, your pain doesn’t ache me… My heart doesn’t care. Why? Because, you are not on my side. So, I don’t cry for justice for you… I don’t think, you have been harmed… and, worse, I even find a sadistic pleasure seeing you suffer. On the other hand, if you are on my side of the divide, even the mildest pain to you can cause a turmoil in me; I am ready to pick up the flag… for you … against those who have harmed you… This is the kind of empathy that is rampant today… It’s ‘Selective Empathy’, not ‘Universal Empathy’! Let’s be honest on these questions

  “Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and, often times, we call a man cold when he is only sad.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow W henever people start participating in an online challenge – such as the recent ‘Couple Challenge’, ‘Daughter Challenge’, ‘Son Challenge’, ‘Saree Challenge’, etc. – I look at some of them and smile, or simply let them pass by. Rarely, I try to ridicule them. Yes, they may seem to some of us as shallow or cosmetic; but, if they make the rest of us feel a little lighter and alive, why don’t we just let them be? Personally, I don’t believe in either inviting someone to accept any such challenge or in accepting anyone’s invitation. Life throws fresh challenges everyday; and, therefore, I don’t need more of them to prove how strong or powerful – or even how happy and playful – I am. So, let all those social-media challenges be… Let people participate and feel happy, or make fun of them and feel happy… My Post, today, is in apprec

  “Kuch paakar khona hai, Kuch khokar paana hai Jeevan ka matlab toh aana aur jaana hai Do pal ke Jeevan se ek umr churaani hai.” From the song ‘Ek Pyar Ka Nagma Hai’ (Lyrics by Santosh Anand. Music by Laxmikant Pyarelal. Sung by Lata Mangeshkar.)   T oday Lata Mangeshkarji turns 91. Early in the morning, Soumya, the college-going daughter of our neighbors and family-friends, Sanjeev and Sandya Nair, had sent to me and my wife a lovely-old Lata-song. Soumya is passionate about singing, particularly Lataji’s classics. She uploads them, regularly, on her YouTube channel. “Hello Uncle, hope you enjoy this song… I have dedicated this to my idol, Lataji,” she wrote. I smiled looking at the distinct two-plaits specially donned, today, by our 18-19-year-old, Soumya… I remembered the eventful, inspiring and one-of-a-kind journey, close to a century, of the legend of Lata Mangeshkar! I, also, remembered my dad, in the sixties… when he was in his thirties and I was not even 10.

  “People are sheep. The TV is the Shepherd.” Jess C. Scott S ome thirty years ago, one afternoon, it’s raining heavily. I had kept my classroom door closed, and my students and I were totally focused on the proceedings inside. There were some forty or forty-five students inside, who had parked their umbrellas and windcheaters in two large buckets which were placed outside. After the class got over, when my students went outside, there was a commotion… All the umbrellas and windcheaters had disappeared from the buckets! We were all shocked! Missing of one or two umbrellas or windcheaters would have gone down our throats, somehow… But, this wouldn’t. Being their teacher, and the owner of the class, I was answerable. “What is the mystery? Is it a theft or some freak accident or whatever that is?” … We had no clue. My students were kind enough not to create any scene, and, they all – young colleges students – merrily dispersed getting drenched! For a week, since then, I tried to c

  “Rational behaviour requires theory; reactive behaviour requires only reflex action.” W. Edwards Deming   N o matter how hard I try not to judge people – and their behaviour – the fact is: I do! Now, by ‘judging people’s behaviour’ – I do not mean any unusual behaviour. I try to read too much, often unnecessarily, into the usual – commonplace – behaviour of others, even. I think, it has a lot to do with my childhood insecurities. For, I see myself slipping into that victim mode easily… It’s only when I allow that moment to ‘be’… and see my own behaviour with a little more kindness - and neither with justification nor with condemnation – that, I am able to smile at the situation… “So, it’s not about other person’s behaviour,” I end up reminding myself, “It’s about my own: how I react to theirs!” As I said, I am talking about the simple, commonplace situations. Like these… I have known this young parent for many years. Once, I was his teacher. Now, his own son is pursu

  “ Half of life is lost in charming others. The other half is lost in going through anxieties caused by others.   Leave this play. You have played enough.” Rumi. T rying to please others is akin to handing the remote of our personal peace in others’ hands. The need to please others stems from another innate need: to seek other people’s approval – their validation. Yes, it’s a human need… Hence, ordinary people like you, me and others crave to see Likes, Loves, Wows and generous comments on every single line we post or every single picture we share on social media – we justify it saying, “What’s wrong with it? We are humans, after all!” Rumi and other wise souls, for hundreds of years, have drawn our attention to this human craving. Excess attachment to other people’s approval and validation only undermines our own self-confidence… Beyond a certain point, it not only drains us, it, also, hurts us very badly. What other people think of us should never be more imp

  “Dhobi ka kutta na ghar ka, na ghaat ka.” Old proverb W hen my dad, his brothers and sisters wanted to migrate to a big city for a ‘better life’, their obvious choice was Bombay. Back in the village, life was confined to the little paddy fields, one-or-two cows, dogs, cats, chicken… for some, a couple of buffalos… Schooling was mostly limited to primary or higher primary. Rarely someone managed to complete high school (up to 11 th grade in those days.). So, invariably, one of my uncles or aunts, who first migrated to Bombay – and lived in some crowded chawls or bastie s – began to take others to the city, one by one… till all siblings – nine of them - were uprooted from the village. My dad, somehow, made it back to the village before he got married to my mom. There on, he made our village as his permanent dwelling and working place. For those uncles and aunts, who had chosen to stay back in this big city, slowly and steadily, the progress in Bombay meant upgrading their bas

  “I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, ‘Mother, what was war’?”   Eve Merriam   M y friend, Vikram, who is one year older than I am, is a relentless walker. We lived in our housing complex for nearly twenty years, till a year ago, when he and his wife moved to their new house in Pune. Besides his crazy sense of humour, Vikram, as I said, was a crazy walker… His walks, always, started when the Sun was right over your head – that was around 10 or so in the mornings. He was able to follow this routine because he ran his own business. So, while the rest of us were well into our daily grind at our work places, Vikram kept orbiting around our buildings in his walking shoes for over an hour every day… He would never miss it, come hail or come tsunami… “What about your walks?” I had asked him in the thick of lockdown. “That’s what I am doing right now?” was the answer.                                                          (Vikram with his grandchild) Yes, Corona or