Gerald D'Cunha

"All our lives, we just do three things: We stand, we sit or we lie down," says Byron Katie. "Rest is all a 'story' we make around it." 'Loving What Is', Mrs. Katie's path-breaking book, is one of my all-time favourites. Each time I am stressed out chasing my goals, each time I become overwhelmed by the perennial anxiety that runs through my search, I open the book and hear her say this: "Honey, relax ... Give me one stress-free reason to keep, to hold on to, your beliefs about Success, your story." I find none. And, I am, immediately, relaxed. Right now, I am 'sitting' and writing this blog piece. I have not premeditated on what I have to write, nor have I fantasised about its success, popularity, money, awards - and all that which Mrs. Katie brands as 'story around the concept of success'. I am just flowing with my heart's yearnings, with no concept whatsoever, no expectations, no strings attached to my pursuit. It...

"Mind your language; what do you mean by 'aarayela hai'," Dr. Dastana, aka. Mamu, warns his ward boy. The ward boy has just tried to please his boss, so sincerely, by breaking the bizarre news: Mamu's nemesis, Munna and his sidekick Circuit have entered the hospital with a king-size bed. Munna is a man with a mission. He has dropped the desire to get married to Mamu's daughter, Chinky, and now obsessed with the desire to marry Dr. Suman. But, not before making Mamu's life miserable. "Vaat lagayega teri," he had vowed ... Like Chanakya. Long before the movie ends, the frustrated Dr. Dastana - the upright Dean of the prestigious medical college - vows behind the closed door: "Vaat main lagayega teri!" The very next moment, he beats with both his hands his melonlike head and bemoans, "What am I saying!" Mamu is unable to believe, that he, too, can succumb to such levels. From a hardcore Gandhian to a hardcore terrorist, from the...

This is the story of Mr. Ranjan Parthasarathi. The teacher who is still in search of his students. Albeit, the 'ideal' ones! Ranjan, taught in a regular college the Marketing subject for nearly ten years. During all those years, his major complaint was, that the students no more respected their professors the way they did in his good-old-days. "I think, I am wasting my talents out here; these 'kids' don't appreciate my worth," he would regret. "I must teach in a proper Management School." He did. However, just within two years, he was fed up with the 'attitude' of this I-know-all breed. He resigned, and did not work any where for a few months. A tiger can never change his stripes. Can a teacher?. Ranjan was sure, by now, that his real teaching and training talents would be valued nowhere else other than in a Corporate set up. He, thus, began running around, aggressively pursuing his goal. Before long, he was handling half-a-dozen lucrativ...

"I am sick of these messages," he told me. "See this, I am deleting this, even without reading it. You can, then, imagine the kind of strain it has placed on my mind." He was talking about the Diwali messages on his mobile phone. I think he wasn't alone in felling so. I had already become sick. So sick, that, this Diwali, I sent just two messages, and then stopped. "What's the point in sending like this, like a herd - with no true feelings - just because every one is sending them to every one around? ... Who reads them, any way?" ... This was how I had already felt, even before this gentleman voiced his own irritation to me. The Greetings-Card companies have shut their shops. Now, these cell-phone companies are cashing on this fashion. Yes, the only 'happy' people during this 'happy diwali' are they -- the cell-phone people! If alone a thousand messages like these could make my life happy! But, who listens? Who understands? As someo...

The early eighties. Mr. Mukesh Ambani, like me, was in his early twenties. His dynamic father, the late, Mr. Dhirubhai Ambani, had set up the Reliance Industries and was relentlessly pursuing his dream of making it the 'Number One' Company in the world. That was the time, I had just landed up in Bombay, to pursue my own dreams. I do not know about Mr. Mukesh Ambani, but, in those early days of mine here, I was too raw and self-conscious. I was desperately trying for a job to keep myself afloat. I had faced many interviews and failed. My self-confidence had hit the rock bottom. In one interview, the gentleman asked me the question: "How much salary do you expect?" I said, "Whatever amount you fix." Well, in those days, I did not know: that meant 'the end'! Any way, it was a small firm; and so, the kind soul, informed me that they would offer me a monthly salary of Rs. 300/- . Then, he assured me, that if I worked, with dedication, for a year or two, I...

He studies in the Second year B.Com, and he is my student. He has been attending my classes for the past five months; and, during all these months, I have seen him wearing the same two shirts and trousers. But, they have always looked neat and clean on him! I will call this young man Rajeev. Needless to say, he comes from a family where there are financial constraints. I haven't been to Rajeev's house. But, I can imagine the kind of 'care' he must be taking of those two pairs of his clothing's! Meet Aman, who is in standard ten. He has more than two dozen pairs! Most of those Tees, Jeans, Jackets and Cargoes are branded ones and are from fine boutiques. And, this collection is apart from the normal school uniforms. Enter Aman's room, and you will step on his Tees, Bermudas, Jeans and Cargoes ... Yes, they lie every where on the floor. All his wardrobe isn't enough to teach our Aman what it mean to wear a 'neat and clean' set of clothes! Perhaps, now,...

"Payre pado beta," the mother reminded her teenager son, as I entered their palatial house. The son, my student, bent forward to touch my feet. A tall and handsome young man he was; but, his hand barely reached my knee. "It's alright." Before I could complete my sentence, he was already standing, all erect! I hardly felt his 'Payre pado'! But, the mother did, immensely! Bunty never, ever starts his car unless he does a small religious gesture before. His both hands touch the steering and his heart, automatically. Ditto before he enters his restaurant. His both hands go down to the floor and quickly to his forehead and heart. Never, ever would he talk to any one - even a waiting Income tax Officer - unless he climbs up his chair, lights an agarbatti, says five-minutes silent prayer with closed eyes and folded hands, then again touching with his both hands God's feet , his forehead and his heart. But, as soon as he climbs down, the first thing he does ...

Some years ago, I had gone to meet a Builder. I had booked a flat in one of his projects, when the property prices were at their peak. When the market crashed, the Builder began to delay the work, and the buyers began to delay the payment of instalments. In my case, due to other problems involved, I stopped making the payments completely, even though the Builder kept charging interest. I had decided to get out of the project, either by selling the unfinished unit, or by surrendering it back to the Builder. But, because of the slump, none of these was happening. In the mean time, the bill amount kept mounting. So, against this back drop, one morning, I took my younger brother and went to see this Builder. My objective was to negotiate with him, and find a win-win solution. However, in the course of our discussion, the Builder went on the offensive. With his loud voice, he began to 'insult' and 'accuse' me in front of my brother and some other customers. I lost my cool, a...

They say, "The calmness of the ocean depends on its depth." That's why, the ocean is so restless near the shore. It is, always, the periphery, the shallow shore, that is restless, agitated. This morning, my wife said something, and I flared up. The fume lasted for, almost, an hour... But, now, the ship has moved much away from the shore ... The waters are still here; there is calm. The READER'S DIGEST has sent me a small book as a gift for renewing my annual subscription. It is titled: "HOW TO WIN ANY ARGUMENT".(Publisher: JAICO BOOKS.) The author, Mr. Robert Mayer, has given the sub-title as: 'Don't raise your voice, lose your cool or come to blows.' Well, except for the blows, everything else happened, this morning! So, I thought, I would read the book again. And, Lo! This little phrase stood out: 'THE STILL CENTER'! Mr. Mayer extensively quotes ancient Masters from the East - the Indian, Japanese and Chinese. One of the quotes is of Th...

This is my third post, today! I am busy, as usual, with my routine work of teaching. I am also busy thinking, worrying, regretting and so on. The unpaid bills before me still give me jitters, and my dreams still keep dangling. And, look! In spite of all this daily drama, today, the spring in me refuses to cease. I am pleasantly surprised, awe-struck! Life is full of abundance. I have no doubt about that. Still, whenever I get bogged down by the daily pressures of living, the doubt does raise in me its ugly head, and 'The Law of Abundance' does seem, at those moments, nothing more than a piece of theory. The birds in the sky have enough to feed themselves, and the fishes in the oceans, too. The sun and the stars give enough help to every one here, and the moon, too. The wind is kind enough, as do the seasons. Every thing that God has made is for every one here. We are inheritors of this wealth. But, then, all this sounds sweet in essays. When we see ourselves still juggling and ...