Gerald D'Cunha

  “Sometimes, God’s blessings are not in what He gives; but, in what He takes away.”  -– Anonymous   Y esterday, a dear friend of my wife and me, Anisha, had invited us to watch the Marathi play –- ‘Mukkam Post Pandharpur’ . As Anisha’s friend was one of the producers of the play, the front-row tickets were complimentary for us… We loved the play… It’s the touching story of young army recruit, Mawli, who was born and brought up in the holy land of Vitthala (Lord Vishnu) –- ‘Pandharpur’ (near Sholapur). As another friend of mine has been undertaking the padyatra to Pandharpur every year (hundreds of kilometers), I knew how powerful such faith in Vitthala was. But, not for the protagonist of the play, Mawli. He didn’t have any faith in either Vitthala or any of His Vasudevas… He would argue angrily with whoever displayed devotion to Vitthala… To him, it was a blind faith… Vitthala was dead. So, young Mawli, just after getting married, is posted at Siachen ...

  “With every breath, I plant the seeds of devotion;   I am a farmer of the heart. Rumi   S ome days ago, a friend of mine called me. He said, “I want to visit Mount Mary church (Bandra), today… What is the protocol?” Well, my friend is a Hindu Punjabi. I knew about some difficult times he has been recently passing through. So, the strong urge within his heart to visit a holy shrine did not come to me as any surprise. I have, always, gone to Mount Mary during the week days and sat there quietly, feeling overwhelmed with the surge of gratitude, humility and, above all, peace… Peace is what I have come back with. Thus, when my Punjabi friend asked me, “What is the protocol?”… probably, what he wanted to know was: “Can non-Catholics go inside the shrine?” … “Are there specific hours for the visit?” … “Should one keep the footwear outside?”… “Is offering of candles or cash mandatory?”… etc., etc. I said what I believed in: “Go there with your humble heart... Mot...

  “The chief proof of man’s real greatness lies   in his perception of his own smallness.” Arthur Conan Doyle   W ell, there are these super-wealthy, who are hailed as connoisseurs/patrons of art, and they are ready to buy a piece of art – a panting in particular – for any astronomical price. But, you see, the painting has to be a ‘original’… So, when an original painting of Picasso, Michael Angelo or M.F. Hussain goes for millions and crores, a thought hits me: “Who, in deed, is the original artist – the real Creator?” To grasp the depth of my question, just stop on your way home, this evening, and have a good look at a few stray cats… Behold the colours of their bodies, their eyes… every hair – the softness, the teeth and the paws of those little creatures. Ask: “Who made them?”… A Picasso, a Michael Angelo or a Hussain? So much for our great pride in feeling, that we are the original creators. Look, we, at best, can be the ‘original duplicators’. That’s i...

  “A river cuts through rock not because of its power, but because of its persistence.” Jim Watkins   I love rivers… They are very, very inspiring. Whenever we see a deep, serene river, we, often, forget how, hundreds of miles away, they originate. Invariably, they originate as violent, fierce waterfalls somewhere in mighty mountains…   and, from there,   they flow down, making their way all through, till they join the oceans. If you try to stop them, they make new way to reach their destinations. But, river being a river, it has to flow constantly; it has to persist… It has to join the ocean… I love this story about every river. You and I – generations after generations – may come and go… while these rivers keep flowing. “D id you go for the Maha Kumbh at Prayagraj?”         No, I didn’t. But, several of my friends did. Almost all of them are back and have resumed their daily grind… What about the ‘change’? I mean...

  “I felt in need of a great pilgrimage. So, I sat still for three days… and God came to me.” Kabir   O ne of the places, I very often visit whenever I find a strong urge in me to do, is the Mount Mary church at Bandra. Now, many times I do that all alone, and many times with my family. But, the, if you ask me, if I go there during the Bandra Fair (the week following Mother Mary’s birthday sept 8) – I say, without any hesitation – “No, I don’t” That’s because, I simply can’t connect to Mother Mary, Jesus or God in a ‘Fair’ – a mela. I can feel the personal deep connect, only when I am – like sever strangers out there inside the shrine – sitting there quietly all alone. Yes, there is a strange high when I tell others, that I visited the ‘Bandra Fair’… But, why did I do that? ‘ Jana maolo jaatre marolo’… This is an age-old saying in Kannada. It means, people behave strangely in every religious fair and melas… Often they act weird, illogical and, even insane. Now...

  “The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common.” Ralph Waldo Emerson   I n the village I grew up (in Mangalore), Ganesh Chaturthi was known as ‘Chauthi’ . Our house was surrounded by many families of different faiths. Days were simple and innocent – trust in each other was pure. I remember, on every important Hindu festival like Chauthi, Krishna Ashtami or Deepavali, our Hindu neighbours would send us their delicacies, and on Christmas, Easter and Nativity Feast (Mother Mary’s birthday), our family would do the same… This tradition was started by my grandparents, continued by my parents and, today, the family of my eldest brother and his wife (who live there) still follow it… There is great pride and simple joy concealed in this act… The flowers from our courtyard had, always, reached Hindu households to adorn Lord Ganesha, Lord Krishna and Lord Rama… Our GSB neighbours, year after year, immersed their Ganpathi idol in our well… “Our well wat...

  “You cannot control the world; but, you can control your contribution to it.” Unknown   M y aunt, Cecelia (Dad’s sister) was a Carmelite nun. She was known as Sr. Leo. She was a gentle soul… very soft-spoken and affectionate. Till she passed away, aunt lived at several convents far away from our native home. However, she occasionally visited all her relatives… She would spend a day or two at each of relative’s place. I remember her visit to our place when our son was very small. As a nun, her staple gift for us used to be some religious relics – like a scapular, a rosary, or a picture of Mother Mary, Jesus or a Saint. When she bid us goodbye, we would place an envelope in her hand with a small amount inside it… knowing well, that it would reach some poor souls in the remotest places where she served. The life of a nun is a life of great discipline. Even though aunt, Sr. Leo, stayed for a day or two in our households, she followed her spiritual routine very strictly...

  “If you want to turn a vision in to reality, you have to give hundred percent and never stop believing in your dreams.” Arnold Schwarzenegger   E very time I see a beautiful building or a villa, a bridge, tunnel or a flyover… Every time I listen to a mesmerizing song, a piece of music, watch a gripping movie or a stage show… Every time I read a beautiful book   – be it prose or poetry, fiction, nonfiction, self-help whatever… Why all these… Every time I see a beautiful dress, a piece of jewelry, footwear… Every time I relish an amazing dish or enjoy a   beautiful ambience… a lawn, a resort, a hospital, a school, a temple or a church …  Yes, when I behold anything and everything, that is created by humans there outside, I stand there spellbound, marveling on the ‘process’ of creating them… Someone, like you and me – made of flesh, bones and blood – yes, someone there must’ve conceived it first in his/her mind, believed in it… toiled hard and long to a...

  “The moment you pick up a weapon in the name of a religion is the precise moment that your God ceases to exist.” R. Patient   I have, often, asked this question to myself: “What if I was born into a non-Christian family – say, Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Buddhist, Jain, Parsi, Jewish or atheist?” Like most around me, I, too, did not choose my religious faith – I just happened to be born into it; and, since then, willy-nilly, I have been following it… I know, as I became quite an adult, I very much had that choice to pick the faith I wanted. Yes, I could have become a Hindu, a Muslim, a Sikh, an atheist or whatever… But, I chose to stay what I was born into – a Christian. Am I happy about that choice? Oh, yes… I am. Do I consider it to be a privilege? Oh yes… I do. But, if you ask me, if I consider myself a superior human species just because I am a Christian – I would shout, with all my energy – “No, I don't.” As the quote at the outset describes, all c...