Gerald D'Cunha

“Anyone who thinks fallen leaves are dead has never watched them dancing on a windy day.” – Shira Tamir “S ir, I have started a blog,” beamed young Muskaan, after our Workshop, on last Sunday, “I like writing.” My friend, Dr. Deepak (a psychiatrist and an excellent soft-skills trainer) had just concluded the Workshop on ‘Assertiveness’. So, Muskaan was excitedly telling Dr. Deepak about her new-found love - blogging. “Very good,” Dr. Deepak complimented Muskaan, “But, don’t write it for others… Write it for yourself.” There was a bit of puzzle in what Dr. Deepak had just said. Muskaan’s face was revealing it… “Of course, I want others to read my blog. So, how can I say, that I am not writing for others?” It was unexpressed; but, quite evident from Muskaan’s face. Dr. Deepak was quick to pick it up. “Do you like dancing?” he asked Mushkaan. “Yes Sir, very much,” Muskaan said with equal excite...

I have heard many saying, that if you do anything consistently for twenty-one days, it becomes our habit. Conversely, it means, that if we wish to uproot a bad habit from us or replace it with a good one, we need to keep attempting it for twenty-one days, with our intent, focus, desire and determination… Twenty-one days are three weeks… It’s three weeks since I posted my last Blog… So, the question is: What was I trying to uproot from me? My habit of blogging daily? Writing my daily notes has been a very old habit in my case. I was extremely shy and scared boy… afraid to express myself in public. So, writing my tender thoughts – my anxieties, fears, joys and sorrows – in my private dairies gave me immense relief. The habit had begun, as I told, when I was still a teenager… I did not realize, then, that it would become part of my nature, my character and personality… So, I did not start with Blogging. I started with writing notes in my private journal...

“All great literature is one of two stories; a man goes on a journey or a stranger comes to town.” ―  Leo Tolstoy W hen  my wife and I conclude our morning walk around 6.30 or so in our housing complex, we invariably stay back to listen to some enchanting stories from one of our senior-most members, Mrs. Bhadekar (we fondly call her Bhadekar aunty). She is a great story-teller… and her stories come from anything and everything that happens around her. Sometimes it involves our own members, maids, security, house-keeping staff or gardeners… sometimes it involves someone from outside… Government, politicians, religious matters, education, sports, fusion, TV, films, drama, her childhood days… a bit of gossip, a bit of philosophy a bit of anxiety, a bit of fun and mischief… there is no permanent enemy, there is no black and white…  a lot of grey shades in between… Those 15 to 20 minutes are glorious. Bhadekar aunty is a story-teller… an...

T wo summers ago, one afternoon, a lady called me up. “Sir, my name is Bageshree,” she said, “I want to enroll my son, Rutwik, for your PD course. He has just given his SSC Board exams.” Well, it was not just the son but also the mother who ended up being the students of THE  DAWN CLUB PD programme. Bageshree came about as an earnest learner… and, I could sense that unshakable faith she had in her talented son. She had brought him up as an all-rounder and she was determined to provide him a fine education abroad. Thus, immediately after our summer programme, she moved with her family to Singapore and enrolled her son for the right stream in a right institution… Bageshree and I remained friends through FB ever since. She has been a regular follower of my Blog and she never failed to give me her sincere appreciation… It always meant a lot to me… and, I would admit it to her as I always do with whoever gives me a word of appreciation when I hunger it the most. Latel...