Gerald D'Cunha

  “Your talent is God’s gift to you; What you do with your talent is your gift to God.” Leo Bascaglia   I n life, need we do only ‘big things’ to feel good about ourselves? And, need we do things only with great fanfare to find validation? Many a time, doing ‘small things’, quietly, seems not only unprofitable, but also unfashionable… But, trust me, doing ‘small things’, quietly, is the surest way to truly feel good about ourselves. On the other hand, the desire to do ‘big things’ with great fanfare is a bottomless pit… It seldom gives us a true feeling of self-confidence. Therefore, the key to self-confidence is to do small things with a big heart. One way of reaching out to others – by doing small things, quietly – is through our talents. We all know, that our talents are God’s gifts to us. And, as Leo Bascaglia says, “What we do with our talents is our gifts to God.” For example, God has given me the gift of teaching, writing and motivating others. I have become

  “The final stage of wisdom is becoming a kid again.” Mixime Legace   A dear friend of mine called me, yesterday. He and his elderly mother had been to their native village; and, when he called me yesterday, they had just returned from this trip. My friend was excited to tell me about a good cause, with which he and his mother were getting involved. The primary school, which my friend’s mother attended over seven decades ago, still functions in their village. But, the condition of the school remains much the same… The medium still remains vernacular, the condition of the classrooms still remains basic… The midday-meal service and dependency on the government dole draw only very underprivileged kids learn in this school… The world around this school has changed beyond recognition. Little kids know what mobile phones and computers are, what the internet   and a television are… My friend is a fairly-successful industrialist in Mumbai. He wanted his mother to involve with a g

  “And, still after all this time, the Sun never says to the Earth, ‘You owe me’…” Hafiz   I n the latest blockbuster film, ‘Kantara’, I understand, that one of the many things that has left millions of viewers mesmerized is the Bhuta’s (the Demigod’s) shout. I am sure, this shout keeps haunting many of them long after the movie experience… This is really interesting, and it brings a smile on my face… I grew up in a village in Mangalore, and lived there for my initial twenty years. In those days, our village, and the villages around us, predominantly depended on agriculture. People were simple… Christians, Muslims and Jains were in minority. Hindus were   in majority. Yet, we all coexisted, so beautifully. Many Catholic households, like ours,  raised flowers in their courtyard gardens… The highest sale of these flowers took place during   Hindu festivals… The ‘Bhuta Kola’* (We simply called it ‘Kola’ or ‘Nema’) was one such festival/ceremony. It was an annual ritual, whe

  “Spoon-feeding, in the long run, teaches us nothing but the shape of the spoon.” E. M. Forster   T here are two students of mine. Let me rename them, for this Post, as ‘Sanskar’ and ‘Dhruv’. Trust me, I am not renaming them according to   the meaning of these new names, or the actual names. They both are fine students, brought up by fine parents, and, yes, being sent to fine schools and colleges. Presently, they are in their final year of college. I had requested one of my friends, a Chartered Accountant, to teach these young boys ‘GST’ (Indirect Tax). As my friend is a busy professional, I did not want my boys to disrespect his time… I wanted to ensure, that the boys had discussed the timings for this week-end with my friend. So, I sent this message to my boys, last evening: “Hello Sanskar and Dhruv, I hope you both have discussed the timings with Sir for this week-end. Please do, if you haven’t.” “Yes Sir, done,” replied Dhruv, immediately. There was no reply from Sa

  “Those who do not weep, do not see.” Victor Hugo   T he things that make me cry may not be the things that make you cry. Similarly, the way I cry may not be the way you cry… I may cry at the drop of a hat… You may not cry even when a bomb is dropped right at your feet. Let me see it from your perspective, now… You may cry every time you return home after a long stay away from home. I may stay stoic when I do that… You may cry when you see a newborn. I may not… Let me come back to me, again… I may start crying when I am alone, watching a sunset or the restless waves of a sea… You may sit there like a rock. I may cry remembering my lost ones… You may stay stone-like… And, who among us is a good soul? Who is real? The real me is fragile… He cries at the drop of a hat… He cries when he is alone… when he beholds the night sky… when he listens to the quiet restlessness of the waves… He doesn’t require a big reason to cry… The very thought of God’s grace breaks his veneer… The