Gerald D'Cunha

S ome two months ago, a young man called me and said, “Sir, my 11-year-old cousin will be coming down from Dubai on a two-month vacation. His parents are keen that he should utilize this time in India on learning some new skills… Is there something that you can offer?” I had nothing to offer for a 11-year-old except something that I have been, always, passionate about and, yes, good at. So, I said to the young man, “I can help him open up and express himself from his heart.” A month later, the young man called me up, again, and said, “Sir, my cousin has come… Can we start?” I took off with the 11-year-old Yash. Let me tell you this: Yash is one of the most affectionate, confident, articulate and well-loved-and-raised kids I have come across. It’s clear from the start, that both his parents had poured on this little kid loads of love and care… with great schooling and great thoughts. He had come down to India with his mother, while father had stayed b...

S ome of my dear friends share their birthdays with our nation’s. They, always, feel proud and privileged about it… and it is understandable. So, whenever I wish them, I have to wish on two counts: on their birthday and on our nation’s as well. But, what if one was born on the midnight of 15th August, 1947… Yes, what a special feeling that must be! I have one such person – my aunt, Cecelia. She is one of the sweetest souls in our family, now settled in Chennai. Aunt Cecelia studied Nursing from Kasturba Medical and Nursing College at Manipal. She used to spend many of her week-ends at our place in Mangalore. My dad, who had a raw talent for singing, was crazy about Konkani traditional-songs, which were known as ‘Mando’. As he hadn’t studied, he would make Aunt Cecelia write down those lyrics… He would sing and she would write! Today, when I reflect on it, I smile… He wanted those amazing songs to be documented! Dad is long gone… and the s...

B y the time I publish this Post on my blog, the national flag across our country – in every nook and corner that is – would have been already hoisted. The National Anthem and some patriotic songs, some snacks or sweets to children… maybe some games… with that would conclude our 71 st Independence Day celebration. We will not be able to change our ‘old ways’ of living even till the flag is descended before sunset… Our ways haven’t changed… “I am an Indian… and all Indians are my brothers and sisters,” this pledge is only confined to the tricolor pole or our children’s’ textbooks. Am I proud to be an Indian? Yes, I am. With all the good, the bad and ugly that my country offers me, am I still proud to be an Indian? Yes, I am. I do not like chest-thumping at all. The patriotic feeling, just like the feeling towards my parents and spouse, should be left to my bosoms. I know, it is ordinary citizens like you and me make this nation… I know, we h...

Pic.: Sheela Mohan A unty Cecilia – my mom’s youngest sister – was a Midnight’s Child. Well, unlike the Midnight’s Children, made famous by Salman Rushdie in his novel, my aunt wasn’t born between 12 and 1 am on 15 th August, 1947. She was born at 3… So, she wasn’t blessed with any special powers which Salman Rushdie’s midnight’s children were blessed with! I had called aunty Cecilia. a while ago, to wish her. I asked her if she had heard about ‘midnight’s children’ and their special powers… She hadn’t… My mom, who was 12 when aunty Cecilia was born, remembers, vividly, the event… The euphoria hadn’t spared even this remote village called Karambar… Mom’s house, a mud-and-hay house, lay at the foot of a hill… It was surrounded by thick jungle… Wild animals, including tigers, lived in this jungle… One had to walk miles to get to the road… School, church, shop, doctor… everything was miles afar… Those days, babies were delivered at home and ...