Gerald D'Cunha

Last evening, Girish called me up and said, "Sir, tomorrow is 31st December. I want you to post something to motivate us." Something to motivate others? Girish thinks my posts can motivate not only him but also others. Well, it feels good when I think about it. Someone looks up to me... Someone waits for my posts on the blog... The thought does boost my confidence; does motivate me to keep up to their expectations. I want to write about this very issue: How does our confidence go up? This morning, I taught Jinal, a new student for an hour. She was joining my class when others have almost done with their portion. I was apprehensive and had expressed my concern to her yesterday. Still, I took a chance and had called her today for a session. She was picking things fast and I felt a lot relieved and glad. While she was leaving, I sincerely complimented her. "Jinal," I said, "You pick things fast. I am very happy." I saw Jinal's face all lit up on my commen...

They are in 12th standard. They have been studying under me, in the same batch, for almost a year. I will rename them, for the purpose of this post - Mitesh and Rohit. I had taught Mitesh's dad more than twenty years ago. Those days, I had been struggling, to rise from the ashes of my just collapsed venture. I had learnt from my mistakes and I was determined to make a come back. I had come from my village, and there was no one here, in Mumbai, to support me financially. It was tough; but, the desire and resolve to rise from the ashes was so strong that I had no room in my mind to think otherwise. Mitesh's father, was studying under me, then, for his final year. They were three brothers. Their father had set up a textile business from the scratch, and over the years bought some properties. But, their bad phase was on when I was teaching Mitesh's dad. It took just a couple of years for them to fold up their business, sell their properties, one by one. In the years that follow...

"Have you ever seen a bullock cart taking reverse?" Vikram asked me. Well, I had grown up in a village in Mangalore where bullock carts were a common sight... We had them everywhere in our village. While returning from school, so often, we children would get a joy ride in Thaburanna's famous bullock cart. But, never did I bother to observe whether his bullock cart ever took a reverse! Last night, when Vikram asked me that question, I began to think about it, for the first time. "The bull doesn't look up; it takes the load, looks down... and moves. That is called the 'Bull Run'," Vikram continued. "Your neck may bleed, back may hurt... but you move, with your head down." But, need I be docile, submissive? Need I be a bullock carrying others' load? Why should my neck bleed? Why should my back hurt? Why should I suffer? "Because, the need to take load comes with your decision to take charge," Vikram added. "You have to accep...

Yesterday, I received, by post, a beautiful table calender. For each month of 2010, a fresh painting... and each of them was a amazing work. And, each of them was by a 'foot and mouth artist'! My immediate impulse was to take it home and place it prominently on our table. I wanted my young son to see it. He, too, is fond of drawing, sketching and painting. He too has plans to pursue an art-related field. I wanted him to see these paintings by those physically challenged artists. Not to have hands to draw and paint, still, they have created such brilliant work using their feet and mouth! It was remarkable, inspiring... humbling. The artists are faceless. I do not know their background. But, I am very certain, that all those gifted men or women must be financially challenged, too. I wanted my son to contemplate on these realities, and feel inspired. We want our son to realise his talents. We want him to put efforts, and we have promised him our full support. Our son has his hands...

Last week, we had been for the wedding reception of a cousin of my wife. It was in a swanky banquet hall and the ambiance was familiar: that of a traditional Catholic-wedding. In a Catholic wedding, the programme, from the start to the end, is all well-set; it is predictable... You know what comes next, what the Master of Ceremony is going to tell next. And, for most of us, the one liners, the teasers and the jokes that the M.C. uses, are, often, too familiar. On this particular evening, the M.C. cracked the familiar teaser, while the bridal couple waited nervously before the lovely cake, about to hold the knife. "Marriage is not just a 'word'," he reminded the newly-weds, "It is a 'sentence' - a 'life sentence'." "Nice one," I softly said. "What is nice in that?" reacted my wife. Now, I knew that question was not asked to seek an answer, but to express a faithful wife's displeasure. It meant: "You old man, shut u...

Many a times, when some parents share with me their fears and frustrations over their children, I find myself empathising with them. I am able to understand their problems because I 'stand outside' and view those problems. I, too, have a teenager son. Most of their struggle is mine, too... most of their fears and frustrations... most of their dilemmas. So, empathy comes naturally to me whenever I counsel other parents. At times, I find myself quoting my favourite author, Kahlil Gibran: "Your children are not your children... They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself; They come through you, but not from you, And though they are with you yet they do not belong to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of to-morrow, Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them ...

"Do you remember this point...? I have explained it in the class many times." Sameer's face drew a blank when I asked him that question. His two friends looked towards him and began to laugh, poking fun at his ignorance. Sameer retaliated with some nasty comments... and some girls started giggling loudly... Looking at the funny girls, half-a-dozen boys got restless... And, while all this was unfolding in my class like a fast-paced movie, I lost my head completely. Then, for the next fifteen minutes, I went on a rampage - 'the emotional atyachar'. I did it with such strong words and with such intense feelings... that the mutiny had to die down. By the time it did, it, almost, killed me. I was left with no energy... but, with a hell lot of turmoil within. That was at 11.30 in the morning, while teaching the 12th standard students. At 2.00 in the afternoon, I was teaching the T.Y. B.Com students. The class was packed, and I was in full flow. "Do you remember thi...

I teach my students how to solve accounting problems. As a teacher, we say so many things, so mechanically... that unless someone brings to our notice, we don't even realise them. Sometimes, we come to know about them when, in a healthy spirit, some students come forward to mimic us. Last evening, I met a professional accountant. We had invited him to handle the accounts of our housing society. "We need you to set right all the mess, here. We want you to put our house in order," we told him referring to the accounting problems we were facing in our society. "Sir, every problem has to be solved twice," the man told us, looking smilingly at me. "Once, here (He pointed at his head), and, once again, here (He pointed at the accounts books on the table)." Before we could react, he continued, "Sir, about fifteen years ago, you told this to us in the class when you taught us how to solve problems... Do you remember me? I was one of your students." I...

"Someone is waiting for you, somewhere," this man tells me. "He needs your goodness... your helping hand... your healing touch." Well, I know my fallible human state. I know how selfish I can be, at times. I know the kind of thoughts that dominate my mind... I know, how impatient and how harsh I act with my nearest and dearest ones, sometimes... In fact, most of the times. And still, here is this man - a man I look up to in my life - telling me that I am good... and someone out there - somewhere - is waiting for my goodness, my helping hand, my healing touch! Without an iota of arrogance, I did feel he was being sincere... that he was not trying to flatter me, give me a 'high'. My self-doubts did surface... I did feel for a while that I did not deserve such a fine compliment. But, within a few fleeting seconds, I was there savouring the power of this gentleman's words: "Someone is waiting for you, somewhere." Why am I writing these blog article...

Competition. Still, Lata Mangeshkar has survived for more than sixty years in the make-believe world of glamour. In the same world, Amithab Bachchan has lasted for more than forty years. And, in an fiercely competitive world of cricket, Sachin Tendulkar is still going strong even after twenty years! All these legends have survived in their fields, the fields notoriously known for man-eat-man kind of competition. They have seen the ups and downs; they have faced ridicule and destructive campaign against them. The critics and cynics have written them off several times... and, still, these 'heroes' have stretched their necks out... and gloriously! On Saturday evening, I accompanied my son, along with my wife, for the induction programme of his NID preparation course. The National Institute of Designing, which my son wants to get into - we are told by the coaching institute - is extremely competitive. There are only 90 seats on all India level, for which thousands of aspirants are...