Gerald D'Cunha

"Why, what is my mistake?" Rahul, my 11th-standard student yelled back at me in the packed class room. The room could feel the weight of his bloated pride. Unnerved, I went close to him, held him by his arm, and roared with the matching pride, "Your mistake was: you argued with me, your teacher. Go out, I will speak to you after the class." Rahul collected his books, and went away, with out waiting to meet me. Now, it was the second 'sin', Rahul committed. Unable to bear this, I went on a marathon speech before the rest of his clan. I was angry, hurt and even frustrated by the 'arrogance' and 'attitude' these little kids threw around their teachers, their total disrespect, their insensitive behaviour, their indifference to advice ... and all that which I stood for, and they didn't. "There are two people in your life... and never, ever argue with them," I shouted. "Your parents and your teachers." The class listened to ...

Whenever I am in a new place, and ask a stranger for direction, the stranger turns out to be one of these two kinds. The first kind: This stranger seems genuinely happy and proud to help me. He realises that I am a stranger in his locality, that I need his help. So, for him, it is a matter of pride, an achievement, to be of help to some one. In fact, I have seen, some of them going out of their way to to make you comfortable. You feel glad about it; you feel appreciated and respected. I believe, there is a direct link between this experience and one's self-esteem. My self-esteem goes up, because, I feel appreciated and cared for. The good Samaritan's self-esteem goes up, because, of the feeling he gets within him - that, he is helping somebody, a stranger. When he shares his knowledge, his strength, he has to feel good about it, he has to grow stronger. It is an act of self-empowerment. Possibly, many of us have seen this when we visit some remote villages. The way these simple...

It happens, sometimes, when I read about Christ's life. Or about the lives of my other heroes - Gandhi or Martin Luther King Jr. Either I experience goose pimples, or I simply cry. I have failed to understand the mystery behind this phenomenon. Why do I get the goosebumps? Why do tears roll down my cheeks? Maybe because I admire them so much. For the kind of challenges they faced, the goodness they spread, for the leadership they provided. I am incredibly inspired by them. I am overwhelmed by the impact they have left on the mankind. Yes, may be because of these reasons, my hair stands straight, my eyes weep. A small challenge makes me chicken out, develop cold feet. When faced with discouragement and criticism, I tend to turn cynical, and give up. And, I am talking about small challenges, the ordinary battles of my life. My heroes took upon them tasks of Herculean proportion. The mortals never dare near them. That's why their lives are legends; that's why, the price for th...

There is heavy leakage out side my office. A crack in one of our building pipes is responsible for this. It is one week now, since I lodged a complaint. Our plumber has come, at least four times, to 'see' the problem - the mess the leakage has caused out side my office ... and, on each of his visit, he has been extremely courteous to me! "Plumber bhayya, dekho kitna gandha ho gaya hai; please, isko teek koro." "Ji sir." After two days: "Plumber, kya hua?" "Sir, aaj pakka kar ke dhoonga." "Pakka?" "Ji sir, bilkul." " Pakka khabhi?" "Aaaj gyara bhaje, pakka." The next day: "Dekh, tumara jabhan ko koyi respect nahin ye kya?" "Sir, aaj teen bhaje tak, aap ka kaam ho jayega." "Dekh raja, tum jawan ho. Aisa kaam karoge toh, kaun rakega? Achcha kaam karoge, toh achcha hoga life." "Ji sir, bilkul sahi kaha aap ne." Three days are over. The 'jawan raja' is stil...

After a very long time - fifteen years, to be precise - I had been to this Colony, last evening. I wanted to visit these two families. The first one of these two families, was a very small family. When I last saw them, they were three: the husband and wife, who were in their mid fifties, and their young son. Yesterday, when I entered their house, an old, sick woman, supported by a walker, opened the door. She recognised me; I didn't. It was the same woman, who was once so full of energy and so full of hospitality. "Aunty," I said, " I am very sorry, I couldn't recognise you." "It's alright. It has happened with many people," she said, asking me to sit. Her husband, she told me, had passed away about thirteen years ago, in a massive heart attack. Her only son was married to a working girl after five years. Her world began to crumble, she told me, immediately after that. The girl couldn't stand her mother-in-law. From the day one, she started...

This morning, I was standing out side my class and talking to a friend of mine, who is a doctor. While we were talking, a gentleman, whom we both knew very well, was passing by, dragging a nice trolley bag. As he neared our spot, the doctor said, "Hello" and offered his hand to the gentleman. The gentleman said a half-hearted 'hello', and went his way, without responding to the doctor's hand. My smile and hello went completely, unacknowledged. "Strange," I reacted, immediately to the doctor. "He seems to be lost in his own world," the doctor empathised with me. We continued our discussion. Just after two minutes, the gentleman's wife appeared. When she approached us, we both received a broad smile along with a warm 'hello' from this gracious lady. We both said "Hello, how are you ma'am?", together. "I am fine, thank you," the lady stopped for a while. "Are you heading for outstation?" the doctor enq...

Now and then, these questions pop up in my mind: What happened to the Bofors kick-backs charges? Mr. Rajiv Gandhi's Congress government had colapsed because of these corruption charges. What happened to the former Central Minister, Mr. Sukh Ram, after he was arrested with crores of rupees cash in his house? What happened to the huge suitcase, which Mr. Ram Jethmalani, late Mr. Harshad Mehta's advocate, had shown us on a TV press conference, alleging that the cash was given to the then PM Mr. Narshimha Rao? What happens to all those IAS and IPS Officers once they are caught in the ACB raids? To those ministers once they are exposed by the TV sting operations? What happens to the corruption system? About thirty years ago, for a brief period of three months, I had worked in the Fort area of our city. I was new here, and hadn't travelled by local trains before. On my uncle's advice, one morning, I bought a monthly second-class pass, and pushed myself into the 8.00 a.m. pack...

"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...