Gerald D'Cunha

S ome months ago, I had been to some one’s house. The 60-plus man, in my heart, was a gem of a person.That night, he had died of a massive heart attack. When we reached there, it was just the time… He was about to be taken away from the house… and, for ever. I saw the man’s wife, now a fresh widow, collapsed on the lifeless husband… and sobbing with a sorrow, which, by now, had lost all its tears… I could imagine how much she must have sobbed all nightlong… and the day that followed! With the lady, I too sobbed like a baby… The man was a good soul! Then, we heard, all of a sudden, someone crying hysterically… “Papa, I am sorry; please papa, I am sorry… Papa… Papa…” Some ladies were holding the daughter of the deceased soul… and it was the last glimpse she would have of her papa. She too looked all pale and dry… like her mother’s, the sorrow was just bereft of wetness… there was only a lingering pain, regret and, now, a killing guilt. While we were returning home, a lady told us th...

“Take care.” I keep saying this to all my dear ones. Time and time again. This basically means, “Dear, I really care for you… I do not want any unpleasant things to happen to you.”  So much is evident. However, what is not evident is the silent under current of this statement: “Dear, if any unpleasant things happen to you, I will not be able to handle it!” I understand this as I have a teenager son. My fears are: He lives in a hostel, away from home. He may get some negative influences from undesirable friends… drugs, drinks, smoking, girls and all sorts of habits can affect my son’s life. Yes, these are just thoughts and they do cross my mind, frequently. But then, what saves me from getting neurotic about such thoughts is that I look back at my own days. “Have I not survived?” I ask. “Were my parents not worried the way I do now?” I ask. “Have I not tried to inculcate some strong values in my son?” I ask. “Doesn’t he have the sense of responsibility…and a sense of shame?” I...

I have heard this: Some men, when they drink, behave like small children… The child in them comes out. And, some men, when they drink, behave like demons… Yes, the demon in them comes out.  I have also heard this: Writing needs inspiration… You need to be intoxicated with it. I know it is true… For, whenever I am ‘intoxicated’ to write, The stars cease to be stars and the hills cease to be hills! The waves of the ocean and the waves of the soul All get mixed up… God becomes a human and man becomes a God… Age seeks its shelter in a young heart… And a young heart yearns before me:  “Dear, can I watch you… just watch you, all my life?”  I have heard: You can not be inspired and dead, at the same time!

“Good morning Gerry uncle,” it was Kshitij. It was a Monday morning, today. The 5-year-old Kshitij was fresh like a daisy and waiting for his school bus to come. His grandpa was giving him company. “Good morning, beta,” I ran my hand on Kshitij’s glowing cheeks, “You are a sweet boy.” “Say thank you uncle,” the grandpa prodded the little one. The little one obeyed with all his innocence.   Before I could take my next step, “Good morning Gerry uncle,” it was 9-year-old Soumya. “Good morning, Honey,” I caressed Soumya’s velvety hair. “So, going to have fun today in school?” “Yes uncle. They are going to take us out, today… But, I don’t know where.” Before I was done with little Soumya, I saw my shirt being pulled from both the sides. “Good morning Gerry uncle,” it was 8-year-old Aniket from the left and 5-year-old Kushboo, Anikets’s sister, from the right. “Good morning Sweet Hearts,” I pulled both these angels close to me… as their mother smiled. My day was done! “If this is ...

I f God gives me another birth, I will plead Him to make me as sensitive as I am, today. “It is okay, if I bleed the way I do, O Lord,” I will tell Him, “But, make me as sensitive as You have made me, today” If God gives me another birth, I will plead Him to give me the same joys and same sorrows that I have had, here… Same friends and same enemies, same love and same heartbreaks. “Lord, give me the same heart and same mind,” I will tell Him, “But, fill them with the same content with which you have filled them, today.”  If God gives me another birth, I will ask for the same parents, same brothers, same wife and same son… And, yes, I will ask for the same longings with which I die, today. “Give me the same passion, same poems, same beholders, O Lord,” I will pray, “Give me the same marvels, same mysteries and same awe for Your wonders around me.” If God gives me another birth, I will plead Him to keep me as simple as I am, today… As human and sincere as I try to be, now. I ...

I am a Christian, a Roman Catholic in that. It has been drilled into our heads, right from the days of our baptism - if I can exaggerate a little there – that it is ‘obligatory’ for me to attend the Mass on Sunday. It is a ‘sin’ to skip a Sunday Mass. Some how, I have refused to buy that view, and, have been attending the Sunday Mass not because it is made ‘obligatory’ by the Church, nor with a fear of committing a ‘sin’, and certainly not with a fear of being socially out casted. I learnt it from Jesus Christ, Himself! Jesus is my real hero. I try to live my life, constantly, keeping His teachings and life in mind. It is tough… It is challenging. Still, it is worth it. My simplicity has come from Him; my passion has come from Him; my beliefs in forgiveness, compassion, refrain from judging others, reconciliation, peace have come from Him. Even in my anger, I imitate Jesus. Jesus was a loving and compassionate soul… But, He has shown incredible amount of anger when it came to th...

T he sky turns gloomy, and I don’t like it one bit. I want the sky, at this time, to be bright  and peppy. It has been repeatedly happening so for the last three days. And, I have been repeatedly telling the sky – “Why can’t you be the way I want you to be?” The sky explodes with thunders and lightning. Robust winds blow hard on the trees… Leaves fly helter skelter… and it pours. Heavily. The sky doesn’t need my permission to behave the way it does. I understand this truth… simple though. Sometimes, when I stand by the sea, I get overwhelmed – and overpowered – by the force and velocity. It is fierce, it is ruthless, and it is scary. Still, when I stand there and watch those ferocious waves lashing mercilessly at the shore, and when I see that like an awe-struck child, I feel peaceful even in the midst of such violence, such unrest. It is happening like that, right now. I am watching this gloomy sky… and looking forward to hear the sounds of mighty thunders and behold t...

I t is difficult – really difficult – to be ‘simple and uncomplicated’ in life.  The place where I reside was once a very beautiful place. There were fields around, mountains nearby… and, we thought we had come to a silent and peaceful locality. Within years, this place has become unrecognizable. Our Society is surrounded by SRA buildings, all 360 degree. Suddenly, there is gloom in our hearts, we feel betrayed by the Builder, the Government and our Fate. The sheen is all gone, the roads are bad… and, even the autowalas refuse to come to this place. Why am I telling all this? Just yesterday, my wife told me that she met a lady who was shy to tell my wife that she lived in our vicinity. Incidentally, this lady did not know my wife too lived in the same area. When my wife told her that, the lady was very ‘relieved’ . How proud I would have felt to tell some one that I lived in Peddar Road or Pali Hill! Yes, sometimes, I feel like ‘bluffing’. A young friend of mine lived wit...

I just reached my office… just half-an-hour before. I am feeling good about myself.  Well, had I handled that situation the way I normally did, I am sure, it would have robbed me of that ‘good feeling’. Let me tell you what happened. I took an auto near my Society and the young man was taking me without any problem. He was in his world, and I was in mine. Just seconds before he was to take a right turn to enter the by lane that led to my office, his mobile rang. I had already told him ‘Right’ and there were vehicles moving from all directions. His hands instinctively reached his pocket and my heart instinctively cried ‘Don’t take’. I told that in Hindi, "My friend, please don’t take that call. You have to take right… If you make mistake, both of us will die right on this street!" He never heard my cry and so he picked the phone. I gently touched him to indicate him to take towards left and park. Luckily, he did… So far, so good. We were safe! Then, he began to speak t...

S omeone is waiting there, for years, to do some charity. He says he wants to first become rich, make lots of money… and then he wants to do charity, help others.  Someone is waiting there for the Messiah to come. He says, his life would be fine after the Savior comes. And, there is someone who goes around saying that the seasons are wrong, the Sun is too hot, the moon is not full, and the stars are too far, too tiny in the sky. He says when all these heavenly bodies change, he too will… He will be inspired to write his poems. All are waiting! The man, in the mean time, makes and blows a lot of money. He is not rich enough to do his charity. The Messiah comes and goes. The man doesn’t notice Him… It is still not the time for him to be ‘fine’, to be ‘saved’. Then, our poet. Yes, the seasons come and go… The Sun takes birth early in the morning, like a tender baby, in the East and retires like a gentle bride late evening in the West; the moon - crescent, half or full or no ...