Gerald D'Cunha

“My life is a blank cheque before God… No strings attached.” David Platt   I did not start writing because I was good at writing… It’s the opposite. I was very, very bad at it. English was not my medium… I was afraid to open my mouth before those who spoke fluently in English. I had terrible stage fear and I was filled with self-doubts. I had not read any self-help books or attended any such workshops… This was while I was a teenager and studying in my college. All that had happened, I remember, was this: Prof. B . S. Raman had come to teach our big class (more than 100 students… all boys). I sat somewhere in the middle and got inspired by him. Next thing that happened was this: I was burning with the desire to become like him – a fine teacher and writer, and, of course, an idealist. He as that… and, I wanted to be that. So, for sitting in Prof. Raman’s classroom for three years during my degree college - and without talking to him, one-on-one, even a sentence – I had a...

  “All mothers want their sons to grow up  to be President. But, they don’t want them to become politicians in the process.” John F. Kennedy   W e all age, our mothers before we do… And, most of us do not realize this simple, natural process. When we became independent, our mothers lost theirs… When we started gaining health, wealth and position in life, they slowly and steadily began to lose them… Old age and sickness don’t spare any of us. Still, when it comes to looking after – or, is it putting up with? – our aged and ailing parents, we tend to show our impatience and selfishness… Our true colours! It’s one thing to post on social media the happy pictures of our mothers and wish - ‘A Happy Mother’s Day’… It’s completely different thing to sit next to her, holding her frail hands and just listen to her, feel her pain, anxiety and loneliness… Optics and ‘God Bless Her’ are hollow. What mothers really need, today, is a quiet dignity… empathy and patience…...

Pic.: Aruna Anand A round 1.30, yesterday, I got a call from a lady from our housing Society. When I saw her name on my mobile screen, I spontaneously said, “Wish you a very happy Diwali, ma’am.” “Thank-you so much sir, wish you and your family the same,” the lady responded quite enthusiastically.  Then, in a sombre voice, she continued, “Sir, I called you to inform that dad passed away an hour ago. The funeral will be at 4, today!” For a moment, I found difficult to switch gear, “Really sorry to hear the sad news, ma’am,” I managed to say, “I will arrange to display on our notice board and will be there in a while.” Being our Society’s Hon. Chairman, I, immediately, swang into action: I put it on our Society’s WhatsApp group as well as on the notice board. I made some calls and sent some personal messages. And, then, I went to the grieving family’s residence and remained with them till the end, that is late in the evening. “He died on an au...

Pic.: Chetna Shetty N o matter how inspiring I sound to be in my daily posts, and no matter how much I talk about ‘values’ in my writings… let me tell you this straight: I am no Satya Harishchandra! Yes, I have in me the same devil who tempts me to sin, cheat, lie and take short-cuts, now and then… here and there… Maybe, I am not a big-time thief, a professional con-man or a chronic liar or whatever that is… I still lie, still show greed, and still try to be selfish and self-centered… Well, am I telling all this for effect? There is no need for me to do it, sir… I remember I was in third  standard. It was one afternoon, back home in Mangalore, my village. I was walking along a road with one of my older cousins when I sighted a wallet on the road. I instantly grabbed it and opened it… Inside, there was a ten-rupee note and some papers. I quickly plucked the note and tucked in one of my pockets and tucked the wallet with rest of the papers in th...

Pic.: M. D. Jeurkar W hen I came to Mumbai – then Bombay - city in October 1980, all that I came with was: my burning desire teach... My dad’s brother was kind enough to accommodate me in his small BARC quarters, which were located in the sleepy corner called Mandala. He was an ex-service man and was a driver with Indian Army; he had spent many years of his service in J &K terrains. At the fag-end of his bond period, my uncle had joined the Christian congregation called ‘Jehovah Witnesses’... whose uncompromising religious-tenets would not allow my uncle to hold a gun or even take blood during surgeries.. So, he chose to retire as soon as his bond period got over and joined BARC as a driver for top officials out there... Now, the reason I chose to live with my uncle was that he was a thorough gentleman, incredibly disciplined... The tough military-regimen and now the rock-solid religious -grounding had made him the man he was... a true soldier in life! ...