The first day of the winter vacation

 So, woke early, despite it being the first day of my winter break! Yes, I love this time of the year in the UAE. It is cool, the air has a nip in it and is crisp, the shops look lovely and then there is family and a few close friends. (This year will be slightly different though) On holidays I tend to wake earlier than usual, so today it was 4 45am. Hate the day to go by while I am lolling in bed – do not understand how people get up at noon and say, ‘it is a holiday’! Toiletries, morning tea and newspapers devoured, I decided to go to the gym and attempt to be the first one there. As it is just about 7 minutes away, I walked out of the front door briskly at 8.15 (the gym opens at 8.30 only to go right down to the basement and realize that I had forgotten my headphones. I hate to have to return for anything. So up I trotted up again mumbling to myself & a trifle annoyed. Back to the car and off I go. No. Back to the house again and this time from the mezzanine – the water bottle was left on the table when I went to get the headphones. The day was starting to annoy me. Dementia? No. Just getting older or whatever! Justified it to myself as I often do – “everything happens for a reason and I could have met with an accident if I had left at the original time”. So- reached the Gym and presto I was the first one there. Loved the feeling to have it all to myself Clicked a snap to prove it. Looked around in case there was someone working out quietly in some corner, and so pleased to just see myself in the mirrors. Logged into the gym Wi-Fi, put on some great music, and managed an hour’s workout. Felt good – looked into the myriad mirrors again- sucked my stomach in to the best of my ability and congratulated myself on the 2 pack! Still a very very long way to go. On the way back I decided to have a haircut as my hair was annoying me . Free parking! There was a new barber who seemed to be pretty good at his job, but rather inquisitive in his approach and manner. By the time he had finished interrogating me – yes it felt like that- I realized that I had been so busy trying to give him some wrong answers to protect my privacy, that I had not noticed what he was doing with my hair. By the time he swung in with an exaggerated flourish and a large smile on his face – large mirror in hand- to show me the back of my head, the deed had been done. Looked good to me and I was pleased as punch. Finally, a great haircut. Walked out of the saloon looking and feeling much lighter – entered the front door and their faces said it all - according to the family, my hair had been cut badly (as usual) – it was far too short, and I would look rather silly at Christmas. I put on a show of bravado and countered with some talk about my personality and how I would shave it bald if they made any more fun etc but it carried no weight and everyone carried on with their life and I with mine. Just had some tasty home-made Chinese noodles for lunch – my favourite. Now to doze. My hair grows quickly.

The first day of the winter vacation

 So, woke early, despite it being the first day of my winter break! Yes, I love this time of the year in the UAE. It is cool, the air has a nip in it and is crisp, the shops look lovely and then there is family and a few close friends. (This year will be slightly different though) On holidays I tend to wake earlier than usual, so today it was 4 45am. Hate the day to go by while I am lolling in bed – do not understand how people get up at noon and say, ‘it is a holiday’! Toiletries, morning tea and newspapers devoured, I decided to go to the gym and attempt to be the first one there. As it is just about 7 minutes away, I walked out of the front door briskly at 8.15 (the gym opens at 8.30 only to go right down to the basement and realize that I had forgotten my headphones. I hate to have to return for anything. So up I trotted up again mumbling to myself & a trifle annoyed. Back to the car and off I go. No. Back to the house again and this time from the mezzanine – the water bottle was left on the table when I went to get the headphones. The day was starting to annoy me. Dementia? No. Just getting older or whatever! Justified it to myself as I often do – “everything happens for a reason and I could have met with an accident if I had left at the original time”. So- reached the Gym and presto I was the first one there. Loved the feeling to have it all to myself Clicked a snap to prove it. Looked around in case there was someone working out quietly in some corner, and so pleased to just see myself in the mirrors. Logged into the gym Wi-Fi, put on some great music, and managed an hour’s workout. Felt good – looked into the myriad mirrors again- sucked my stomach in to the best of my ability and congratulated myself on the 2 pack! Still a very very long way to go. On the way back I decided to have a haircut as my hair was annoying me . Free parking! There was a new barber who seemed to be pretty good at his job, but rather inquisitive in his approach and manner. By the time he had finished interrogating me – yes it felt like that- I realized that I had been so busy trying to give him some wrong answers to protect my privacy, that I had not noticed what he was doing with my hair. By the time he swung in with an exaggerated flourish and a large smile on his face – large mirror in hand- to show me the back of my head, the deed had been done. Looked good to me and I was pleased as punch. Finally, a great haircut. Walked out of the saloon looking and feeling much lighter – entered the front door and their faces said it all - according to the family, my hair had been cut badly (as usual) – it was far too short, and I would look rather silly at Christmas. I put on a show of bravado and countered with some talk about my personality and how I would shave it bald if they made any more fun etc but it carried no weight and everyone carried on with their life and I with mine. Just had some tasty home-made Chinese noodles for lunch – my favourite. Now to doze. My hair grows quickly.

Christmas wishes 2020

 Dear friends , colleagues and former pupils As we come to the end of the year, it is time to pause, ponder a while & reflect on the year that is almost at an end What a year this has been- phew! A year of unprecedented stress, innumerable difficulties, quick decisions, fear & new beginnings – all rolled into one. Above all – a year of realization. At times it was like being on a large Ferris wheel, which suddenly began caving in & falling apart without warning! The very word PANDEMIC is all that is needed to get you to reminisce with utter dismay, on a year gone by and not a day too soon. We have all felt the strain, the anguish, the paralysing anxiety, and the sheer loss – of time, people, resources and opportunities. Many families are grieving the loss of loved ones and we pray that the almighty gives them the courage, strength, and fortitude to endure the pain. 2020 will go down in History, and just imagine – we were part of it! However, I do not intend this to be an article of sadness, despondency, desolation, or despair – that would defeat the very purpose wouldn’t it? Let us look on the brighter side of life. We have been tested to the limits and are emerging wiser & stronger. Life for me has always been about HOPE! I have been tested often, and I would like to believe, that has made me a better person. I am sure so many of you have overcome challenges and adversary too – that is part of life isn’t it? There comes a time, in all our lives, when we realize who and what matters, and if there is just one takeaway from this pandemic, it is this. It has wiped away the cobwebs from our eyes, removed the blinkers and suddenly we are all seeing more clearly- or at least we are beginning to. That is a massive positive for me and I am sure for you as well? So, what have been the other plus points from this pandemic? Keeping it simple- our lives are slower for sure and we have become calmer and more tolerant. We are more open to learn and change. We have become more resilient, caring, confident, committed, courageous, passionate, and patient. Our determination & drive to succeed amidst the turmoil all around, has been sharpened. Simple pleasures and pastimes are more appreciated. Gardens, parks, and hikes have taken the place of malls, clubs, and restaurants. There has been an unprecedented mobilization of scholarly efforts, and we have all been contributors in one way or the other. On one hand we have become more self-reliant and self-contained in so many ways, yet there has, simultaneously been, so much collaboration and innumerable connections on various fronts- that is heart-warming and so good for the world around us. We have also witnessed an all-round change for the better in our personal and professional lives and we cannot deny the fact that despite work and family pressures, most things just feel better. I feel a sense of wellbeing. And oh yes – we have all realized that FAMILY COMES FIRST. In various industries there have been the inevitable salary cuts and job losses – BUT WE ARE ALIVE! For this reason and this reason alone, I feel we should celebrate because there is no denying the fact, that with the positive news of the various vaccines from around the world, we are turning the corner. We are not yet out of the woods, COVID is still lurking, but things are certainly looking up, the world is more upbeat, and we have every reason to smile, be optimistic and thank God. Hopefully, the worst is over. I have been an Educationist for forty years now, and hence I speak on behalf of all my friends in this field - we have proved to all and sundry that we are “Frontline workers too” who need to be congratulated & applauded. We stood up, said “count me in” and then without much fuss, got the job done while maintaining the highest standards of ethics & professionalism. Thankfully, this has been recognized by the world at large. Looking back, I now feel that all of us are braver than we ever imagined! As the year draws to a close, I intend to use this winter break to relax and spend time with family and friends- we must do what makes us happy – that is important and one of the best ways to rejuvenate. All festive occasions are times to celebrate and to spread good cheer, peace and love. I take this opportunity to wish you and your families all the very best for Christmas and the new year. We pray to God almighty to continue to bless us all and keep us healthy and safe, as we get set to enter 2021 

Warm regards and all good wishes

Christmas wishes 2020

 Dear friends , colleagues and former pupils As we come to the end of the year, it is time to pause, ponder a while & reflect on the year that is almost at an end What a year this has been- phew! A year of unprecedented stress, innumerable difficulties, quick decisions, fear & new beginnings – all rolled into one. Above all – a year of realization. At times it was like being on a large Ferris wheel, which suddenly began caving in & falling apart without warning! The very word PANDEMIC is all that is needed to get you to reminisce with utter dismay, on a year gone by and not a day too soon. We have all felt the strain, the anguish, the paralysing anxiety, and the sheer loss – of time, people, resources and opportunities. Many families are grieving the loss of loved ones and we pray that the almighty gives them the courage, strength, and fortitude to endure the pain. 2020 will go down in History, and just imagine – we were part of it! However, I do not intend this to be an article of sadness, despondency, desolation, or despair – that would defeat the very purpose wouldn’t it? Let us look on the brighter side of life. We have been tested to the limits and are emerging wiser & stronger. Life for me has always been about HOPE! I have been tested often, and I would like to believe, that has made me a better person. I am sure so many of you have overcome challenges and adversary too – that is part of life isn’t it? There comes a time, in all our lives, when we realize who and what matters, and if there is just one takeaway from this pandemic, it is this. It has wiped away the cobwebs from our eyes, removed the blinkers and suddenly we are all seeing more clearly- or at least we are beginning to. That is a massive positive for me and I am sure for you as well? So, what have been the other plus points from this pandemic? Keeping it simple- our lives are slower for sure and we have become calmer and more tolerant. We are more open to learn and change. We have become more resilient, caring, confident, committed, courageous, passionate, and patient. Our determination & drive to succeed amidst the turmoil all around, has been sharpened. Simple pleasures and pastimes are more appreciated. Gardens, parks, and hikes have taken the place of malls, clubs, and restaurants. There has been an unprecedented mobilization of scholarly efforts, and we have all been contributors in one way or the other. On one hand we have become more self-reliant and self-contained in so many ways, yet there has, simultaneously been, so much collaboration and innumerable connections on various fronts- that is heart-warming and so good for the world around us. We have also witnessed an all-round change for the better in our personal and professional lives and we cannot deny the fact that despite work and family pressures, most things just feel better. I feel a sense of wellbeing. And oh yes – we have all realized that FAMILY COMES FIRST. In various industries there have been the inevitable salary cuts and job losses – BUT WE ARE ALIVE! For this reason and this reason alone, I feel we should celebrate because there is no denying the fact, that with the positive news of the various vaccines from around the world, we are turning the corner. We are not yet out of the woods, COVID is still lurking, but things are certainly looking up, the world is more upbeat, and we have every reason to smile, be optimistic and thank God. Hopefully, the worst is over. I have been an Educationist for forty years now, and hence I speak on behalf of all my friends in this field - we have proved to all and sundry that we are “Frontline workers too” who need to be congratulated & applauded. We stood up, said “count me in” and then without much fuss, got the job done while maintaining the highest standards of ethics & professionalism. Thankfully, this has been recognized by the world at large. Looking back, I now feel that all of us are braver than we ever imagined! As the year draws to a close, I intend to use this winter break to relax and spend time with family and friends- we must do what makes us happy – that is important and one of the best ways to rejuvenate. All festive occasions are times to celebrate and to spread good cheer, peace and love. I take this opportunity to wish you and your families all the very best for Christmas and the new year. We pray to God almighty to continue to bless us all and keep us healthy and safe, as we get set to enter 2021 

Warm regards and all good wishes

Make today count

 The 5 am club ! Something to ruminate over. Friday morning musings This day will not come again – so make the best of it – every second- every minute – every hour . Spread good will wherever possible Smile and be happy . Its contagious. Learn something new ( even if it's to draw a cat ) Read – a book- an article – anything that stimulates the thought process Be helpful Say a kind word Do not talk ill of anyone Try and make someone’s day special . It's easier than you imagine Plan ahead but live in the present . Try and learn from your mistakes but don’t dwell on them Work on removing negativity from your life. Be thankful for what you have. Many have much less. Think of those who have much less than you and try and help them if you can Be generous in thought , word and deed . You can start by giving away things you don't need any longer . Say a silent prayer whenever you can – its calming . Be determined to have a good day . Make today count . Send out positives vibes into the universe – they will come back to you threefold . Hope this makes some sense !! SMILE EVEN IF IT DOES NOT – AT LEAST I TRIED !!!!!!!!!!!!. God bless

Make today count

 The 5 am club ! Something to ruminate over. Friday morning musings This day will not come again – so make the best of it – every second- every minute – every hour . Spread good will wherever possible Smile and be happy . Its contagious. Learn something new ( even if it's to draw a cat ) Read – a book- an article – anything that stimulates the thought process Be helpful Say a kind word Do not talk ill of anyone Try and make someone’s day special . It's easier than you imagine Plan ahead but live in the present . Try and learn from your mistakes but don’t dwell on them Work on removing negativity from your life. Be thankful for what you have. Many have much less. Think of those who have much less than you and try and help them if you can Be generous in thought , word and deed . You can start by giving away things you don't need any longer . Say a silent prayer whenever you can – its calming . Be determined to have a good day . Make today count . Send out positives vibes into the universe – they will come back to you threefold . Hope this makes some sense !! SMILE EVEN IF IT DOES NOT – AT LEAST I TRIED !!!!!!!!!!!!. God bless

I am waiting for the day

I am waiting for the day When masks and gloves are no longer items on my shopping list When I can greet a friend without a care in the world Unflinchingly and with unadulterated joy And not with elbows and fists! Have started abhorring those parts of my body! I am waiting for the day When Social distancing, Virus, Pandemic, Outbreak, Quarantine, Contact tracing Super spreader and Isolation Are all just bitter memories To be sealed and buried. I am waiting for the day When schools are living institutions once again Abuzz with Teaching, Learning and engagement With cheerful kids and vibrant classrooms With teachers and taught- deep in discussion. When lesson plans can be executed to perfection With spirited collaboration and engaging experiments Making the topic come to life I am waiting for the day When connections, microphones, and cameras Stop hampering the flow of everyday education And hindering progress. When a pat on the shoulder Or a shake of the hand Make that friendless pupil feel welcome & accepted And then there are those special pupils Who thrive on tenderness, and care Who need smiles, hand holding &tender hugs. Who flourish when persuaded, coaxed and cajoled To forget their fears and insecurities While joining the mainstream I am waiting for the day When teachers can teach fearlessly And pupils can learn from the best Mentored, guided, and counselled As they always did I am waiting for the day When newspapers are not just depressing sheets of paper Where rancorous politicians spew forth Their venom on seemingly insipid opponents Why can’t good news sell? Must headlines always be depressing statistics of rapes, murders, and death? Don’t we deserve better? I am waiting for the day When I can pack my bags and travel To where and when I want To relax, unwind and not be worried About getting stranded in some foreign land Unable to return to the place I call home I am waiting for the day Just like you are.

I am waiting for the day

I am waiting for the day When masks and gloves are no longer items on my shopping list When I can greet a friend without a care in the world Unflinchingly and with unadulterated joy And not with elbows and fists! Have started abhorring those parts of my body! I am waiting for the day When Social distancing, Virus, Pandemic, Outbreak, Quarantine, Contact tracing Super spreader and Isolation Are all just bitter memories To be sealed and buried. I am waiting for the day When schools are living institutions once again Abuzz with Teaching, Learning and engagement With cheerful kids and vibrant classrooms With teachers and taught- deep in discussion. When lesson plans can be executed to perfection With spirited collaboration and engaging experiments Making the topic come to life I am waiting for the day When connections, microphones, and cameras Stop hampering the flow of everyday education And hindering progress. When a pat on the shoulder Or a shake of the hand Make that friendless pupil feel welcome & accepted And then there are those special pupils Who thrive on tenderness, and care Who need smiles, hand holding &tender hugs. Who flourish when persuaded, coaxed and cajoled To forget their fears and insecurities While joining the mainstream I am waiting for the day When teachers can teach fearlessly And pupils can learn from the best Mentored, guided, and counselled As they always did I am waiting for the day When newspapers are not just depressing sheets of paper Where rancorous politicians spew forth Their venom on seemingly insipid opponents Why can’t good news sell? Must headlines always be depressing statistics of rapes, murders, and death? Don’t we deserve better? I am waiting for the day When I can pack my bags and travel To where and when I want To relax, unwind and not be worried About getting stranded in some foreign land Unable to return to the place I call home I am waiting for the day Just like you are.

Bringing up kids

Times change - Bringing up kids has never been easy for any generation. To put it in perspective ' it's no child's play!' (There are however exceptions to the rule ) Parents to school going kid – 80' and 90's( All ) Wake up and get ready for school Hope you have kept your uniform clean from yesterday Go and eat your breakfast – I have put it on the table Have you had air filled in your cycle tyres? Be a good boy in school Don’t fight with anyone Make sure you eat all your tiffin Wash your hands before you drink water from the tap Have you completed your homework for the day? Copy your homework for tomorrow Bring all your books home Be polite to your teachers Don’t get into any trouble Don’t dirty your clothes when playing Remember to copy the notes dictated Take this 50 p for guavas If I am not at home when you return , put your bag near the front door, then go and play I hope you pass in the exams. Parents to kids now a days ( Not all ) Sleep a little while longer , I will wake you later I have put on the geyser and ironed your clothes What would you like for breakfast today – will tell the maid to prepare it If you miss the bus, I will drop you to school – don’t worry Enjoy your day in school - don't play in the sun If that boy makes fun of you I will write a complaint I have put some money in your purse to use in the canteen – bring back the change as it’s a big note Buy a bottle of water Tell your teacher you never had time to complete your homework Remind the teacher to upload the homework for tomorrow Don’t carry unnecessary books home – your bag is too heavy for you Let me know if any teacher was rude to you Have fun my son I will buy you a new laptop this weekend Call me before you leave school If you don’t get over 90 % don’t even show me your report card .(

Bringing up kids

Times change - Bringing up kids has never been easy for any generation. To put it in perspective ' it's no child's play!' (There are however exceptions to the rule ) Parents to school going kid – 80' and 90's( All ) Wake up and get ready for school Hope you have kept your uniform clean from yesterday Go and eat your breakfast – I have put it on the table Have you had air filled in your cycle tyres? Be a good boy in school Don’t fight with anyone Make sure you eat all your tiffin Wash your hands before you drink water from the tap Have you completed your homework for the day? Copy your homework for tomorrow Bring all your books home Be polite to your teachers Don’t get into any trouble Don’t dirty your clothes when playing Remember to copy the notes dictated Take this 50 p for guavas If I am not at home when you return , put your bag near the front door, then go and play I hope you pass in the exams. Parents to kids now a days ( Not all ) Sleep a little while longer , I will wake you later I have put on the geyser and ironed your clothes What would you like for breakfast today – will tell the maid to prepare it If you miss the bus, I will drop you to school – don’t worry Enjoy your day in school - don't play in the sun If that boy makes fun of you I will write a complaint I have put some money in your purse to use in the canteen – bring back the change as it’s a big note Buy a bottle of water Tell your teacher you never had time to complete your homework Remind the teacher to upload the homework for tomorrow Don’t carry unnecessary books home – your bag is too heavy for you Let me know if any teacher was rude to you Have fun my son I will buy you a new laptop this weekend Call me before you leave school If you don’t get over 90 % don’t even show me your report card .(

A meandering mind .

I belong to the early morning club 4.45am- 5.00 am – somewhere around there Early to bed club too Your sniggering? Aren’t I boring? Commonplace and tedious? Its my life after all! Suits me perfectly Call me dull or uninteresting – or old Yes, that I am – getting there surely Weekends are no different Hate wasting the best part of the day Lolling. Newspapers, tea, and other rituals follow Writing too- when sufficiently inspired Or just determined to be productive Nothing fancy – no jargon Quiescent, Chimerical, Sempiternal and Redamancy Sillage, alharaca or aubade Let them remain in the dictionary where they belong Certainly not for me Am no linguist Do not aspire to be highbrow Not scholarly, not a bookworm either. Isn’t Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication?- LDV And thinking – yes! YES !! I love to just sit and think About anything and everything Conceptualizing, applying, analyzing, planning, synthesizing, and evaluating Or just daydreaming and that is relaxing. Today was no different …. My mind meandered And came upon Childhood dreams, lost and found love Ambition, hope and despair And opportunities Of the best days of my life Of autumn and spring And when the tides flooded, ebbed, and scarred. But scars fade & empty riverbeds fill Bringing with it joy and prosperity And it is once again Another bright day

A meandering mind .

I belong to the early morning club 4.45am- 5.00 am – somewhere around there Early to bed club too Your sniggering? Aren’t I boring? Commonplace and tedious? Its my life after all! Suits me perfectly Call me dull or uninteresting – or old Yes, that I am – getting there surely Weekends are no different Hate wasting the best part of the day Lolling. Newspapers, tea, and other rituals follow Writing too- when sufficiently inspired Or just determined to be productive Nothing fancy – no jargon Quiescent, Chimerical, Sempiternal and Redamancy Sillage, alharaca or aubade Let them remain in the dictionary where they belong Certainly not for me Am no linguist Do not aspire to be highbrow Not scholarly, not a bookworm either. Isn’t Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication?- LDV And thinking – yes! YES !! I love to just sit and think About anything and everything Conceptualizing, applying, analyzing, planning, synthesizing, and evaluating Or just daydreaming and that is relaxing. Today was no different …. My mind meandered And came upon Childhood dreams, lost and found love Ambition, hope and despair And opportunities Of the best days of my life Of autumn and spring And when the tides flooded, ebbed, and scarred. But scars fade & empty riverbeds fill Bringing with it joy and prosperity And it is once again Another bright day

The new world order was never a myth.

Where are thou- you elusive vaccine? The weight of the wait is bearing down On us- poor, fearful mortals Hopefully, it will not be the last straw And the camel’s back will remain intact. While the world seeks in vain And scientists labour laboriously You lie unreachable Hidden in niches and crevasses yet undiscovered Waiting to be extracted But where, by who and when? The race is on. Scientists have flattered to deceive Weeks have turned to months And months to almost a year And we are still Bearing the brunt of the capital C Cruel critics, continually create Covid chaos Magni-potent Media Moghuls- magnify mayhem Prejudiced, pompous politicians, practice perjury While John Doe That faceless, nameless, destitute soul Dies – unrecognized, deceased, hungry, penniless And forgotten. Billions are being added to the coffers of the rich While millions lose jobs and all belief in life and living The world is in turmoil like never before But doomsday? Strangely not on my mind This too shall pass – it must, and it will Our world is not ready to be swallowed up Not just yet . Black hole? No Chemical warfare, floods, super-volcanic eruptions & asteroid collisions, Have all failed to dampen the human spirit We have always prevailed So, I believe – that come what may Sometime soon ………………. The sun will shine out from behind the dark clouds The seven-coloured arc with its vibrancy Will shade the sky, with welcome hues People will hug, smile, and greet as before This depression will dissipate Love will bloom And prosperity will return The new world order was never a myth.

On Growing up

Lunchtime musings While eating lunch this afternoon I decided to keep the television off and concentrate on the chewing! While growing up my mother always told me to chew my food properly – chew each mouthful ‘twenty times’ and in that way, I would digest it better and become a good strong boy. Not too sure why twenty in the first place but that was supposed to be the magic number. I did it for a few days but got fed up counting. Thus, I never quite followed those instruction and was one of those who put the food in my mouth and swallowed it after chewing it for a few seconds. I guess that is why I grew up ‘good’ but not exactly very strong. Chew your food children. Anyway, let me not digress so - back to the television. Why didn’t I put it on today? I do not know – I just decided that enough was enough, and too much television was bad in the first place. What was even worse was eating and watching television at the same time. So, for some time I stared at the blank screen contemplating my decision. The remote was nearby, but I fought off the impulse – so much for will power! I can already imagine you saying wow! Or are you laughing at my self-imposed plight? That got me thinking…… We had no Television while growing up and we got through our meals pretty well! Talking about meals and food and drink? Listen to this. You have obviously heard of a nutritious drink named ‘Complan’. Well, as a kid, I was given glasses and mugs of Complan, almost by the gallon- force fed at times . I do remember that the Banana flavour was as bad as the Strawberry but the message from mum was clear. If you want to grow nice and tall then you better drink your Complan . I winged, attempted to throw up , pretended to be asleep in vain – The Coplan had to be drunk . The result was very much the same as what happened with the chewing – I grew up ‘nice’ – at least I think so – but far from tall. Am only five foot seven and a half. I guess it was my fault. I often drank half a cup or glass and threw out the remainder when no one was watching. At times I would take a big sip- hold it in my mouth – and spit it out as soon I was out of the front door. Then there was the issue about my weight. Whenever friends or relatives came over someone or the other would comment on my weight “how thin your Michael is”. For this reason, I was always made to have a concoction called “egg flip”. For those who may never have heard of it – it is a mixture of milk, egg, sugar and nutmeg garnishing. You guessed it right – I detested it. However, no excuses were accepted and every morning, before going to school, I was made to have my “Egg flip” I usually tried to drink it in one or two large gulps so that I would not taste it . That was not all – at night I had to have a big spoon of Ferradol which was a nutritional supplement. It is like a thick liquid jam and while it does not taste too bad, I just did not like it. I believe that both, the egg flip and the Ferradol, did nothing for my weight because even in my forties I was rather skinny. However, it probably stayed dormant in my body, because, much to my dismay, the effects are showing now, and the weight is piling on. Lastly were some vegetables. I liked potatoes and onions – full stop. Tomatoes, spinach,brinjals, lady fingers, beetroot and drum stick made me gag and want to throw up . Of course there was always the justification from the elders at home – I would get red cheeks , nice teeth, strong bones , thick hair, nice skin – somehow I swallowed down the vegetables when I was forced to and binned it when I could . We also had a spaniel who loved vegetables most of the time, so that was a help. As for the red cheeks, good teeth, strong bones, thick hair and nice skin- the least said, the better. Analysing the situation now, I don’t think I was a very obedient child and as they say “some mothers do “ave em” !

On Growing up

Lunchtime musings While eating lunch this afternoon I decided to keep the television off and concentrate on the chewing! While growing up my mother always told me to chew my food properly – chew each mouthful ‘twenty times’ and in that way, I would digest it better and become a good strong boy. Not too sure why twenty in the first place but that was supposed to be the magic number. I did it for a few days but got fed up counting. Thus, I never quite followed those instruction and was one of those who put the food in my mouth and swallowed it after chewing it for a few seconds. I guess that is why I grew up ‘good’ but not exactly very strong. Chew your food children. Anyway, let me not digress so - back to the television. Why didn’t I put it on today? I do not know – I just decided that enough was enough, and too much television was bad in the first place. What was even worse was eating and watching television at the same time. So, for some time I stared at the blank screen contemplating my decision. The remote was nearby, but I fought off the impulse – so much for will power! I can already imagine you saying wow! Or are you laughing at my self-imposed plight? That got me thinking…… We had no Television while growing up and we got through our meals pretty well! Talking about meals and food and drink? Listen to this. You have obviously heard of a nutritious drink named ‘Complan’. Well, as a kid, I was given glasses and mugs of Complan, almost by the gallon- force fed at times . I do remember that the Banana flavour was as bad as the Strawberry but the message from mum was clear. If you want to grow nice and tall then you better drink your Complan . I winged, attempted to throw up , pretended to be asleep in vain – The Coplan had to be drunk . The result was very much the same as what happened with the chewing – I grew up ‘nice’ – at least I think so – but far from tall. Am only five foot seven and a half. I guess it was my fault. I often drank half a cup or glass and threw out the remainder when no one was watching. At times I would take a big sip- hold it in my mouth – and spit it out as soon I was out of the front door. Then there was the issue about my weight. Whenever friends or relatives came over someone or the other would comment on my weight “how thin your Michael is”. For this reason, I was always made to have a concoction called “egg flip”. For those who may never have heard of it – it is a mixture of milk, egg, sugar and nutmeg garnishing. You guessed it right – I detested it. However, no excuses were accepted and every morning, before going to school, I was made to have my “Egg flip” I usually tried to drink it in one or two large gulps so that I would not taste it . That was not all – at night I had to have a big spoon of Ferradol which was a nutritional supplement. It is like a thick liquid jam and while it does not taste too bad, I just did not like it. I believe that both, the egg flip and the Ferradol, did nothing for my weight because even in my forties I was rather skinny. However, it probably stayed dormant in my body, because, much to my dismay, the effects are showing now, and the weight is piling on. Lastly were some vegetables. I liked potatoes and onions – full stop. Tomatoes, spinach,brinjals, lady fingers, beetroot and drum stick made me gag and want to throw up . Of course there was always the justification from the elders at home – I would get red cheeks , nice teeth, strong bones , thick hair, nice skin – somehow I swallowed down the vegetables when I was forced to and binned it when I could . We also had a spaniel who loved vegetables most of the time, so that was a help. As for the red cheeks, good teeth, strong bones, thick hair and nice skin- the least said, the better. Analysing the situation now, I don’t think I was a very obedient child and as they say “some mothers do “ave em” !

All four served us well

All four served us well ……. I must have been around 4, because that is as far back as I seem to be able to remember, and her name was ‘Needle’- at least that is what she was called. She was the lady who looked after me – the domestic servant, known as the ‘Ayah’ back then. A short, rather wizened, grey haired old lady, with a high-pitched voice, she stayed with our family till I was about ten. Not exactly sure how old she was, but she looked about seventy to me at that time ! Thinking over the name now brings a smile to my face. ‘Needle’? I have come to two conclusions about why this odd name. The first could be because she was extremely thin and looked like a needle and the second because she had only one good eye so “the eye of the needle”! However, that does not matter. She was loyal, kind and loving and looked after me well. My fondest memories are of her dressing and feeding me and taking me into the garden to play with a large ball – all vivid. ‘Needle ayah’ probably lived close by because she was in the house when I woke and put me to bed before she left. She was also tasked with staying the night when the family went out and were scheduled to return late. On those occasions she and I would have dinner together – she feeding me. Then she would tell me a story or two and I would soon be dozing. Then there was a couple who lived down the road in the railway colony. He was ‘Bansi’ the cook and she was ‘Bl - - - y’, his wife. Now before you jump to conclusions and say that is a rude name etc. let me tell you that she was an extremely dark lady, but we never gave her that name. She had worked with another family for some years before joining us, and they had given her a pet name – it stuck. She knew what it meant as she spoke a smattering of English and made fun of her own name . When she was asked what her name was – she and her husband both said BL- - - Y. So, B L- - - - - Y it was, and all was good. She did the cleaning and other odds jobs around the house and he cooked. They were treated like family, arriving early in the morning – always smiling, very chatty and kind natured. I do remember that she was a bit of a gossip, as she sat for hours in the afternoons filling my aunt and mother in with all the news from the colony. She was also rather funny and was always saying stuff to make us laugh. She was given all the old clothes and the leftover food items in addition to a salary . On a few occasions when he returned in the evening to cook dinner , I am sure I smelled liquor on his breath but no questions were asked and if at times he could not complete the cooking for any reason , she did so . On a few occasions he was also accused of stealing sugar, rice, cooking oil & tea leaves and was given a shout for the same. He always denied the charge. I also remember him being told not to return to work but like a repentant little boy he would come the next morning and all would be forgiven. Great memories of another resident cook of ours called ‘BOY’. He lived in the outhouse adjoining the main house so was what you would call a ’24-hour servant’. His only possession seemed to be a tin trunk and some bedding. He was, what I would refer to now as, “ really old”. Powder white hair, weatherworn face, short and slim, he wore a large white turban, for some obscure reason. When he walked, his head shook from side to side and made me laugh, but we sort of got used to it. Irrespective of the season, that turban was always worn. I once saw him without it and failed to recognize him! This was the 60’s and no one had gas stoves back then. There were no gas stoves in India, so coal fires were lit, and all the cooking was done on them. ‘Boy’ lit the coal stove extremely early in the morning, and by the time everyone woke, the tea was in the tea pot and breakfast was almost ready. He was a sort of cook cum bearer who cooked and served as well. He laid the table, served us while we were seated, and washed up after that. A first-rate cook, he excelled in making ‘Anglo Indian dishes’ and all types of salads! Strangely I do not know why and when he left but back in the day, these servants were often told to “go” for some unfathomable reason. ‘Needle’ , ‘Bansi’ , ‘B----Y’ , his wife and ‘Boy’ were four servants who served us well .

All four served us well

All four served us well ……. I must have been around 4, because that is as far back as I seem to be able to remember, and her name was ‘Needle’- at least that is what she was called. She was the lady who looked after me – the domestic servant, known as the ‘Ayah’ back then. A short, rather wizened, grey haired old lady, with a high-pitched voice, she stayed with our family till I was about ten. Not exactly sure how old she was, but she looked about seventy to me at that time ! Thinking over the name now brings a smile to my face. ‘Needle’? I have come to two conclusions about why this odd name. The first could be because she was extremely thin and looked like a needle and the second because she had only one good eye so “the eye of the needle”! However, that does not matter. She was loyal, kind and loving and looked after me well. My fondest memories are of her dressing and feeding me and taking me into the garden to play with a large ball – all vivid. ‘Needle ayah’ probably lived close by because she was in the house when I woke and put me to bed before she left. She was also tasked with staying the night when the family went out and were scheduled to return late. On those occasions she and I would have dinner together – she feeding me. Then she would tell me a story or two and I would soon be dozing. Then there was a couple who lived down the road in the railway colony. He was ‘Bansi’ the cook and she was ‘Bl - - - y’, his wife. Now before you jump to conclusions and say that is a rude name etc. let me tell you that she was an extremely dark lady, but we never gave her that name. She had worked with another family for some years before joining us, and they had given her a pet name – it stuck. She knew what it meant as she spoke a smattering of English and made fun of her own name . When she was asked what her name was – she and her husband both said BL- - - Y. So, B L- - - - - Y it was, and all was good. She did the cleaning and other odds jobs around the house and he cooked. They were treated like family, arriving early in the morning – always smiling, very chatty and kind natured. I do remember that she was a bit of a gossip, as she sat for hours in the afternoons filling my aunt and mother in with all the news from the colony. She was also rather funny and was always saying stuff to make us laugh. She was given all the old clothes and the leftover food items in addition to a salary . On a few occasions when he returned in the evening to cook dinner , I am sure I smelled liquor on his breath but no questions were asked and if at times he could not complete the cooking for any reason , she did so . On a few occasions he was also accused of stealing sugar, rice, cooking oil & tea leaves and was given a shout for the same. He always denied the charge. I also remember him being told not to return to work but like a repentant little boy he would come the next morning and all would be forgiven. Great memories of another resident cook of ours called ‘BOY’. He lived in the outhouse adjoining the main house so was what you would call a ’24-hour servant’. His only possession seemed to be a tin trunk and some bedding. He was, what I would refer to now as, “ really old”. Powder white hair, weatherworn face, short and slim, he wore a large white turban, for some obscure reason. When he walked, his head shook from side to side and made me laugh, but we sort of got used to it. Irrespective of the season, that turban was always worn. I once saw him without it and failed to recognize him! This was the 60’s and no one had gas stoves back then. There were no gas stoves in India, so coal fires were lit, and all the cooking was done on them. ‘Boy’ lit the coal stove extremely early in the morning, and by the time everyone woke, the tea was in the tea pot and breakfast was almost ready. He was a sort of cook cum bearer who cooked and served as well. He laid the table, served us while we were seated, and washed up after that. A first-rate cook, he excelled in making ‘Anglo Indian dishes’ and all types of salads! Strangely I do not know why and when he left but back in the day, these servants were often told to “go” for some unfathomable reason. ‘Needle’ , ‘Bansi’ , ‘B----Y’ , his wife and ‘Boy’ were four servants who served us well .

Mr Donald Trump vs Joe Biden - The debate

Was not the Donald Trump vs Joe Biden debate delightfully entertaining? What fun indeed and so engrossing. I laughed like never before at the jibes, digs and facial expressions of both contenders and felt so relaxed. Here were two adults who hate each other, make no bones about it, and are letting everyone know it too . The argued, fought, insulted, ranted, raved, sniggered, lied, slandered, discredited, offended, disparaged, abused, belittled & affronted each other on the world stage. Totally expected of two contenders for the top job in the world. They called each other frauds, liars, manipulators, useless men, disasters, shams, double dealers, deceivers, money makers, tricksters, cowards and cheats. They also attempted to insult each other’s families and wash dirty linen in public but were reigned in discretely before that part of the debate went out of control. At least they never went to blows or threw stuff at each other and that was commendable! I did feel that one of them would walk off in a temper but fortunately that did not happen. The moderator, Chris Wallace from Fox News, stood up to both and certainly held his own – he did have to shout them down on a couple of occasions and he did so with dignity and authority, while refusing to be part and parcel of the mudslinging. He was certainly not intimidated in any way and that is commendable and one of the reasons as to why the debate was completed. He is, after all from Harvard, and is known as a fearless, aggressive reporter and an expert Presidential Debate moderator, who was once ranked as the most trusted TV news reporter in America Who won the debate is a debateable point. Vice President Joe Biden showed that he was quite a tough cookie and despite often being referred to as an “old man” in the past by Trump and others, he looked in fine fettle. No one doubted that he would be heckled by Mr Trump ever so often. However, he kept his cool and came across as a gentleman. He however did call Mr Trump a “clown” and asked him to “shut up”! I guess even a rat, when cornered, will come out fighting! The same cannot be said of the President who butted in with snide remarks every few minutes and kept going on and on, despite being told to give his opponent a chance to speak. As expected, and is common knowledge the world over, he was his bombastic self, accusing, casting aspersions, and insulting at will. Joe Biden on the other hand was more controlled but his contemptuous smile and shaking of the head every now and then sort of got to me and came across as weak so also his fumbling replies time and time again. Trump on the other hand was very confident and forceful in his submissions & assertions. I almost thought he would spit out those very famous words “ you’re fired” to Joe Biden. Am no expert political analyst or for that matter any sort of political interpreter in the first place, but from purely a layman’s perspective, for me, this debate was tied. Am already looking forward to the next one. In these days of stress and strain, this free entertainment is amusing.

Mr Donald Trump vs Joe Biden - The debate

Was not the Donald Trump vs Joe Biden debate delightfully entertaining? What fun indeed and so engrossing. I laughed like never before at the jibes, digs and facial expressions of both contenders and felt so relaxed. Here were two adults who hate each other, make no bones about it, and are letting everyone know it too . The argued, fought, insulted, ranted, raved, sniggered, lied, slandered, discredited, offended, disparaged, abused, belittled & affronted each other on the world stage. Totally expected of two contenders for the top job in the world. They called each other frauds, liars, manipulators, useless men, disasters, shams, double dealers, deceivers, money makers, tricksters, cowards and cheats. They also attempted to insult each other’s families and wash dirty linen in public but were reigned in discretely before that part of the debate went out of control. At least they never went to blows or threw stuff at each other and that was commendable! I did feel that one of them would walk off in a temper but fortunately that did not happen. The moderator, Chris Wallace from Fox News, stood up to both and certainly held his own – he did have to shout them down on a couple of occasions and he did so with dignity and authority, while refusing to be part and parcel of the mudslinging. He was certainly not intimidated in any way and that is commendable and one of the reasons as to why the debate was completed. He is, after all from Harvard, and is known as a fearless, aggressive reporter and an expert Presidential Debate moderator, who was once ranked as the most trusted TV news reporter in America Who won the debate is a debateable point. Vice President Joe Biden showed that he was quite a tough cookie and despite often being referred to as an “old man” in the past by Trump and others, he looked in fine fettle. No one doubted that he would be heckled by Mr Trump ever so often. However, he kept his cool and came across as a gentleman. He however did call Mr Trump a “clown” and asked him to “shut up”! I guess even a rat, when cornered, will come out fighting! The same cannot be said of the President who butted in with snide remarks every few minutes and kept going on and on, despite being told to give his opponent a chance to speak. As expected, and is common knowledge the world over, he was his bombastic self, accusing, casting aspersions, and insulting at will. Joe Biden on the other hand was more controlled but his contemptuous smile and shaking of the head every now and then sort of got to me and came across as weak so also his fumbling replies time and time again. Trump on the other hand was very confident and forceful in his submissions & assertions. I almost thought he would spit out those very famous words “ you’re fired” to Joe Biden. Am no expert political analyst or for that matter any sort of political interpreter in the first place, but from purely a layman’s perspective, for me, this debate was tied. Am already looking forward to the next one. In these days of stress and strain, this free entertainment is amusing.

Are we crawling out of the gutter? Or going deeper in? Are we losing our sense of direction? Is it all because we sinned? Turmoil, chaos, and unrest Are becoming the order of the day This uncertain world is spinning too fast It’s seemingly bedlam all the way Panic grips at our very soul And threatens to destroy all peaceful beings Surely this stupefaction cannot continue And better sense will prevail We have sunk to the depths of deprivation We have plundered raped and killed We have massacred the innocent And set the guilty free All this we call “being human” All this we celebrate So, what’s in store in future How do we contemplate our fate? These questions burn our innards These thoughts we can’t negate I read a verse this morning And to paper I put pen To note it for posterity And end with an “Amen” It goes like this – it is a song So, read it and contemplate ….. “Immovable our hope remains Though shifting sands before us lie….. The floods may rise, the winds may beat Torrential rains descend Yet God His own will not forget He'll love and keep us till the end”

Are we crawling out of the gutter? Or going deeper in? Are we losing our sense of direction? Is it all because we sinned? Turmoil, chaos, and unrest Are becoming the order of the day This uncertain world is spinning too fast It’s seemingly bedlam all the way Panic grips at our very soul And threatens to destroy all peaceful beings Surely this stupefaction cannot continue And better sense will prevail We have sunk to the depths of deprivation We have plundered raped and killed We have massacred the innocent And set the guilty free All this we call “being human” All this we celebrate So, what’s in store in future How do we contemplate our fate? These questions burn our innards These thoughts we can’t negate I read a verse this morning And to paper I put pen To note it for posterity And end with an “Amen” It goes like this – it is a song So, read it and contemplate ….. “Immovable our hope remains Though shifting sands before us lie….. The floods may rise, the winds may beat Torrential rains descend Yet God His own will not forget He'll love and keep us till the end”

A different type of teacher

Even in your wildest imagination you are never going to be able to guess who my strictest teacher was! But let me tell you about a few others before I come to him . When I was in school, I had several strict teachers. I do not remember all of them, but a few do come to mind. There was Mrs P- a tall, stout lady with large, bulging blue eyes and a mop of grey hair, who taught me Math in Grade three. Three things to note here. Firstly, I hated math and was quite weak in the subject. Secondly I was mortally scared of Mrs P and that would be putting it mildly – she terrified the daylights out of me in class, and last but not least , of all the people in the school, my mother decided that I would go to her for private tuition . I think that decision was made as Mrs P did not charge any fee, as my mother worked in the same school, and we could not afford it in the first place. That sealed the deal. Every math period was like going to purgatory and back. Okay, not so bad but I guess you understand. For some unfathomable reason, I would either forget my text or exercise book at home, not complete the math homework or mix up the answers to the ‘’Tables’’ which she made us practice every morning. Strangely , each boy had to answer once and by the time it was my turn , I was asked to give the answer to eighteen times nine or sixteen times twelve so some such difficult numbers – remember this was in grade three. Needless to add, I failed to answer correctly and was then called up to the blackboard to work out the sum. With fifty pairs of normal and one pair of bulging eyes staring into the back of my head, the correct answer always eluded me . The rest as they say is History. I often got the ruler and was made to stand in the corner till the period was over. The tuition period was a trifle better, as I was the only one there, but mistakes and using the eraser till there was a hole in the page, often ended with me getting a whack with the thick Math book. On a few occasions when it rained, and she had the umbrella at her disposal, she used it on me to good advantage. But she was a good teacher . Then there was a Hindi teacher. I do not remember his name, but he seemed to love hearing me read and mispronounce words. He would barely walk into the class when it was a know fact that he would look in my direction and nod. That was the signal to start reading. I could be sitting in front, in the middle, in the corner or at the back – it mattered little - he would ferret me out. Seeing him chuckle when I mispronounced words made me cringe. I vividly remember another Math teacher – Mr D. He taught me Math in Grade eight If I am not mistaken. Straight back, no smile and no nonsense were words I would use to describe him. He was very good at his subject and one, whose methods I followed. However, after setting a sum he would walk up and down the line checking on what we were doing and, on the progress, we were making. Now you would know this fact – If you are not excellent at the subject and the master comes and stands beside you, you freeze. That has happened quite a few times with me. In order to overcome the pickle I would sometimes find myself in , I made it a habit to drink water , fill ink in the pen or start doing some hurried calculations on a rough sheet of paper away from his prying eyes. I am sure he knew why I did that but it mattered little to him and he continued ! There were these and a few more. However, the guy who had me on pins and needles was the instructor at the driving institute. Whether you know how to drive or not, mandatory lessons and a test are compulsory in the UAE. From the very first lesson, I knew instinctively that this was going to be one tough cookie and that put me off. His whole persona was of a cold mean man. He wore the company uniform along with a cap and very dark glasses and throughout the forty lessons, I saw his eyes and his teeth just once , as he never removed the glasses and he never smiled. Before the first lesson we introduced ourselves to each other, and I gave him my visiting card,hoping to impress him. He looked at it half-heartedly and threw it into the compartment between us. There were about fifty cards in there and I immediately knew that he had won round one. All attempts at softening him up by telling him where I worked, that I was the Principal of a large prestigious school etc seemed to fall on deaf ears. I then tried the personal touch by informing him that I was married and had two daughters . I felt he was deaf as he did not react at all. Then the ordeal began in right earnest. Whether I turned left or right, used the indicator or the break, started, stopped or parked – he was never pleased. Almost daily, he commented on the fact that I was either driving too slow, too fast, was extremely careless, casual or day dreaming. He called me sleepy, bad driver, distracted and very foolish. Things became so bad that I would pray that the forty-five-minute lesson got over. On the days I had driving, my work suffered and as the time approached, I was sure I had palpitations. Often when I returned from a lesson, teachers would ask me if all was well and as to why I looked pale and drawn. After about twenty lessons he brought me a supposedly confidential feed- back form to fill in about his teaching – part of quality assurance he mentioned nonchalantly. However, he lent me his pen and a book to rest on and peered over my shoulder when I was ticking the boxes. So much for the confidentiality! I was left with no alternative to give him a ten on ten and so the ordeal continued. Then things seemed to deteriorate, and he was even more strict. I asked friends if I should complain and ask for a change, but he seemed to have a sixth sense. That day he was “normal and a trifle kind” and so I changed my mind. The next afternoon he told me that I was a Principal in my school but a pupil in his car and I better shape up or I would fail. That frightened me even more as the classes were costly. However, the more I tried, the worse I seemed to drive. Then came the parking test and it was a miracle I passed in the first attempt as he was standing out of the car and glaring at me. I missed the parking line by inches, and I guess he was left with no other alternative but to pass me grudgingly. I felt that I had won this round. That hurdle being crossed I was more confident, and my driving improved by leaps and bounds. That week he seemed to sleep while I drove around and I was not sure whether he was sick, fed up of me, depressed or purposely not commenting and just waiting for me to have an accident. Vague thoughts continuously crossed my mind. I often peered at him through the corner of my eye, but he was the master of deception and I could not fathom out what he was up to. On a few occasions I tried to engage him in small talk, but he just grunted in reply as if in a dream. And then it was the big day when I was to be tested by a police inspector. There was just one last practice round with my instructor and I breathed a sigh of relief. As we cruised down a lonely stretch with me driving at ninety kmph, he asked me to pull over. I did so with trepidation and a certain amount of apprehension coupled with plenty of anxiety For the first time he took off his dark glasses, put his cap on his lap, wiped his brow and looked me in the eye. My heart was beating fast as I was sure he was going to give me hell for something or the other. He smiled, patted me on the shoulder and said “well done Sir” He told me that he had been strict as in the initial days I often behaved like a Principal in the car and if he had let that continue , I would never have been a good driver. He then gave me just one piece of advice which I will put down here in Roman Hindi. He said when you drive, remember just two words “ Bacho – Bachao” which roughly translated means- Save yourself and save others when you drive . I remember those words till today. He was such a strict teacher and I feared him – but he was a master of his trade. I once thought of going and meeting him after all these years but sadly I don’t even remember his name – Seriously, I would love to . Nevertheless – wherever you are – “Thank you, Sir”

A different type of teacher

Even in your wildest imagination you are never going to be able to guess who my strictest teacher was! But let me tell you about a few others before I come to him . When I was in school, I had several strict teachers. I do not remember all of them, but a few do come to mind. There was Mrs P- a tall, stout lady with large, bulging blue eyes and a mop of grey hair, who taught me Math in Grade three. Three things to note here. Firstly, I hated math and was quite weak in the subject. Secondly I was mortally scared of Mrs P and that would be putting it mildly – she terrified the daylights out of me in class, and last but not least , of all the people in the school, my mother decided that I would go to her for private tuition . I think that decision was made as Mrs P did not charge any fee, as my mother worked in the same school, and we could not afford it in the first place. That sealed the deal. Every math period was like going to purgatory and back. Okay, not so bad but I guess you understand. For some unfathomable reason, I would either forget my text or exercise book at home, not complete the math homework or mix up the answers to the ‘’Tables’’ which she made us practice every morning. Strangely , each boy had to answer once and by the time it was my turn , I was asked to give the answer to eighteen times nine or sixteen times twelve so some such difficult numbers – remember this was in grade three. Needless to add, I failed to answer correctly and was then called up to the blackboard to work out the sum. With fifty pairs of normal and one pair of bulging eyes staring into the back of my head, the correct answer always eluded me . The rest as they say is History. I often got the ruler and was made to stand in the corner till the period was over. The tuition period was a trifle better, as I was the only one there, but mistakes and using the eraser till there was a hole in the page, often ended with me getting a whack with the thick Math book. On a few occasions when it rained, and she had the umbrella at her disposal, she used it on me to good advantage. But she was a good teacher . Then there was a Hindi teacher. I do not remember his name, but he seemed to love hearing me read and mispronounce words. He would barely walk into the class when it was a know fact that he would look in my direction and nod. That was the signal to start reading. I could be sitting in front, in the middle, in the corner or at the back – it mattered little - he would ferret me out. Seeing him chuckle when I mispronounced words made me cringe. I vividly remember another Math teacher – Mr D. He taught me Math in Grade eight If I am not mistaken. Straight back, no smile and no nonsense were words I would use to describe him. He was very good at his subject and one, whose methods I followed. However, after setting a sum he would walk up and down the line checking on what we were doing and, on the progress, we were making. Now you would know this fact – If you are not excellent at the subject and the master comes and stands beside you, you freeze. That has happened quite a few times with me. In order to overcome the pickle I would sometimes find myself in , I made it a habit to drink water , fill ink in the pen or start doing some hurried calculations on a rough sheet of paper away from his prying eyes. I am sure he knew why I did that but it mattered little to him and he continued ! There were these and a few more. However, the guy who had me on pins and needles was the instructor at the driving institute. Whether you know how to drive or not, mandatory lessons and a test are compulsory in the UAE. From the very first lesson, I knew instinctively that this was going to be one tough cookie and that put me off. His whole persona was of a cold mean man. He wore the company uniform along with a cap and very dark glasses and throughout the forty lessons, I saw his eyes and his teeth just once , as he never removed the glasses and he never smiled. Before the first lesson we introduced ourselves to each other, and I gave him my visiting card,hoping to impress him. He looked at it half-heartedly and threw it into the compartment between us. There were about fifty cards in there and I immediately knew that he had won round one. All attempts at softening him up by telling him where I worked, that I was the Principal of a large prestigious school etc seemed to fall on deaf ears. I then tried the personal touch by informing him that I was married and had two daughters . I felt he was deaf as he did not react at all. Then the ordeal began in right earnest. Whether I turned left or right, used the indicator or the break, started, stopped or parked – he was never pleased. Almost daily, he commented on the fact that I was either driving too slow, too fast, was extremely careless, casual or day dreaming. He called me sleepy, bad driver, distracted and very foolish. Things became so bad that I would pray that the forty-five-minute lesson got over. On the days I had driving, my work suffered and as the time approached, I was sure I had palpitations. Often when I returned from a lesson, teachers would ask me if all was well and as to why I looked pale and drawn. After about twenty lessons he brought me a supposedly confidential feed- back form to fill in about his teaching – part of quality assurance he mentioned nonchalantly. However, he lent me his pen and a book to rest on and peered over my shoulder when I was ticking the boxes. So much for the confidentiality! I was left with no alternative to give him a ten on ten and so the ordeal continued. Then things seemed to deteriorate, and he was even more strict. I asked friends if I should complain and ask for a change, but he seemed to have a sixth sense. That day he was “normal and a trifle kind” and so I changed my mind. The next afternoon he told me that I was a Principal in my school but a pupil in his car and I better shape up or I would fail. That frightened me even more as the classes were costly. However, the more I tried, the worse I seemed to drive. Then came the parking test and it was a miracle I passed in the first attempt as he was standing out of the car and glaring at me. I missed the parking line by inches, and I guess he was left with no other alternative but to pass me grudgingly. I felt that I had won this round. That hurdle being crossed I was more confident, and my driving improved by leaps and bounds. That week he seemed to sleep while I drove around and I was not sure whether he was sick, fed up of me, depressed or purposely not commenting and just waiting for me to have an accident. Vague thoughts continuously crossed my mind. I often peered at him through the corner of my eye, but he was the master of deception and I could not fathom out what he was up to. On a few occasions I tried to engage him in small talk, but he just grunted in reply as if in a dream. And then it was the big day when I was to be tested by a police inspector. There was just one last practice round with my instructor and I breathed a sigh of relief. As we cruised down a lonely stretch with me driving at ninety kmph, he asked me to pull over. I did so with trepidation and a certain amount of apprehension coupled with plenty of anxiety For the first time he took off his dark glasses, put his cap on his lap, wiped his brow and looked me in the eye. My heart was beating fast as I was sure he was going to give me hell for something or the other. He smiled, patted me on the shoulder and said “well done Sir” He told me that he had been strict as in the initial days I often behaved like a Principal in the car and if he had let that continue , I would never have been a good driver. He then gave me just one piece of advice which I will put down here in Roman Hindi. He said when you drive, remember just two words “ Bacho – Bachao” which roughly translated means- Save yourself and save others when you drive . I remember those words till today. He was such a strict teacher and I feared him – but he was a master of his trade. I once thought of going and meeting him after all these years but sadly I don’t even remember his name – Seriously, I would love to . Nevertheless – wherever you are – “Thank you, Sir”

I love my 'cuppa'

I love my morning tea and when brewing it a short while ago, it just brought back vivid memories of childhood and of growing up in Allahabad. I make a great cup of tea – I think so, and many have corroborated the fact. That probably is because, as a young boy of around nine, I was taught to do so by my mother and by my aunt – who both loved a ‘good cup of tea’ very early in the morning . I was the official tea maker and I enjoyed it ! Back then, tea was brewed quite differently than how it’s done now- at least by me. To start with, there were tea leaves and not tea bags. We used Brook Bond Red label. In fact, tea bags were not heard of, at least not in Allahabad. I remember the large white porcelain tea pot with small blue flowers painted on it. Water was boiled on the “coal stove’’ or “chulah” which had been lit by the cook at around five am. (If you are not a Millennial you will know what that means and would have probably seen one in old family photographs. I would then carefully wait for the water to boil in the old kettle, and keep opening the lid to check when exactly that happened – let me tell you there is nothing worse than under or over boiled water ! It is believed that boiling tea water correctly is half the battle and an art. It was then that I probably learnt the phrase, “a watched pot never boils” The moment the water boiled, I would pour the same into the tea pot, add in three ‘level’ teaspoons of tea leaves, give it a stir or two and put the lid back on. A Tea cosy (tea pot warmer) was then put over the pot and the tea was left to brew for three minutes (I looked at the clock). There again, if you do not know what a Tea cosy is, and I don’t blame you - Google it! Meanwhile the cups and saucers were laid out. The tea strainer was then placed on each cup as the tea was poured in, thus straining out the tea leaves. Believe you me, the smell of the fresh, steaming, golden coloured brew was amazing. Milk and sugar to taste then followed and presto, the tea was served. There was one clear instruction as well – no slurping. I will admit though, that I enjoyed drinking tea from the saucer at times and would often slink off and do that - I wonder if any of you readers have ever done that too? The pot of tea, covered with the tea cosy, remained hot for about half an hour and that was so convenient as most adults had another cup around that time. Today I make my tea very differently and it is a much quicker and easier process. I boil water in a small saucepan, use a tea bag which negates the use of a tea strainer, and drink my tea in a mug – I do have my favourite mug as well. Whenever I travel, on work or on holiday, I make sure I carry my Lipton tea bags along. I am also not too crazy about milk, so just a wee drop is what I use in a mug of tea. When on official trips I always take some extra tea bags along as I have colleagues who like the way I make tea and I guess, my company as well, so they ring my bell at six am and we have a “cuppa’’ together while discussing the plans for the day . Indians have bonded over steaming cups of tea for centuries- I guess they always will.

I love my 'cuppa'

I love my morning tea and when brewing it a short while ago, it just brought back vivid memories of childhood and of growing up in Allahabad. I make a great cup of tea – I think so, and many have corroborated the fact. That probably is because, as a young boy of around nine, I was taught to do so by my mother and by my aunt – who both loved a ‘good cup of tea’ very early in the morning . I was the official tea maker and I enjoyed it ! Back then, tea was brewed quite differently than how it’s done now- at least by me. To start with, there were tea leaves and not tea bags. We used Brook Bond Red label. In fact, tea bags were not heard of, at least not in Allahabad. I remember the large white porcelain tea pot with small blue flowers painted on it. Water was boiled on the “coal stove’’ or “chulah” which had been lit by the cook at around five am. (If you are not a Millennial you will know what that means and would have probably seen one in old family photographs. I would then carefully wait for the water to boil in the old kettle, and keep opening the lid to check when exactly that happened – let me tell you there is nothing worse than under or over boiled water ! It is believed that boiling tea water correctly is half the battle and an art. It was then that I probably learnt the phrase, “a watched pot never boils” The moment the water boiled, I would pour the same into the tea pot, add in three ‘level’ teaspoons of tea leaves, give it a stir or two and put the lid back on. A Tea cosy (tea pot warmer) was then put over the pot and the tea was left to brew for three minutes (I looked at the clock). There again, if you do not know what a Tea cosy is, and I don’t blame you - Google it! Meanwhile the cups and saucers were laid out. The tea strainer was then placed on each cup as the tea was poured in, thus straining out the tea leaves. Believe you me, the smell of the fresh, steaming, golden coloured brew was amazing. Milk and sugar to taste then followed and presto, the tea was served. There was one clear instruction as well – no slurping. I will admit though, that I enjoyed drinking tea from the saucer at times and would often slink off and do that - I wonder if any of you readers have ever done that too? The pot of tea, covered with the tea cosy, remained hot for about half an hour and that was so convenient as most adults had another cup around that time. Today I make my tea very differently and it is a much quicker and easier process. I boil water in a small saucepan, use a tea bag which negates the use of a tea strainer, and drink my tea in a mug – I do have my favourite mug as well. Whenever I travel, on work or on holiday, I make sure I carry my Lipton tea bags along. I am also not too crazy about milk, so just a wee drop is what I use in a mug of tea. When on official trips I always take some extra tea bags along as I have colleagues who like the way I make tea and I guess, my company as well, so they ring my bell at six am and we have a “cuppa’’ together while discussing the plans for the day . Indians have bonded over steaming cups of tea for centuries- I guess they always will.

James Bond and me

The only Social Media I had when I was growing up hundreds of years ago was the Radio! The only stations I tuned in to, on an old Bush radio, were “Radio Ceylon” and the “BBC” . (Of course, there were one or two Indian stations as well). The first for music and the second for the evening news. At times the valve radio did not catch the desired station and one had to give it a thump on the side and presto it obeyed commands thereafter. Whether it was the six am morning music show, cricket matches, Man landing on the moon, late night instrumental music or the daily news – that was Social media for us, and we enjoyed it. Yes we clapped when the cricket commentator shouted out that the batsmen had hit a four or a six and I jumped when I heard those famous words by Neil Armstrong's when he became the first person to set foot on the Moon: "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." Nothing can take away the thrill of those very special moments . Now there is the Internet, television with hundreds of channels to choose from, Facebook, WhatsApp and so many others. The list is endless and continues to grow – who knows what we will have ten and twenty years from now! We are indeed spoilt for choice. I remember going to a movie in my teens and seeing James Bond with a large ungainly looking cordless phone and saying wow! Not that I imagined myself as JB or anything – just the thought of a phone with no wire amazed me. I wondered where it was connected to and how. I remember starting with a Nokia 6210, (Googled to make sure that was the number ) taking it out of my pocket and looking at it often, in the initial days, to make sure I had it and of course to show it off . It was quite a rarity back then and I had sent for it through a relative in Dubai. Now everyone has a phone, and nobody seems to be able to do without it. Children carry it to school , people sign in before an operation , they check it between repetitions in the gym, peep at it in church , click selfies in strange places and feel lost and forlorn if they leave the house without it . I have often forgotten my wallet but rarely my phone. I distinctly remember attending a Leadership programme at “The Tuck school of Business” at Dartmouth some years ago. There were talks, seminars and discussions led by some amazingly intelligent professors from around the world - they almost gave you a complex. One grey haired professor held up his battered old phone and said – “Educationists around the world tell pupils not to bring phones to school – one day , all children will carry to school, will be a phone”- prophetic words indeed . On a slightly different note ….. Looking at schools going online around the world today, I wonder if brick and mortar schools will exist in the future. Everyone is managing quite well and with the advancement of technology this will happen – in fact, it already has. The debate for social interaction will continue and be solved too. Parents and pupils around the world are already getting very comfortable with the “new normal”. Not spending money on uniforms, on purchasing innumerable books, and on travel, is gradually making parents realize the indirect saving they are making and that is something one cannot scoff at in this day and age when every penny counts . Then there is the issue around saving time. With traffic jams and long distances to be travelled between home and school – studying from the comfort of one’s home is now being seen to be very appealing. Lastly with no water bottles and tiffin to be packed every morning, mums are smiling more often! If you notice, I have not even mentioned Covid and the apprehensions, fears and safety concerns around the virus. Mark you – I am not writing schools off any time soon. Nothing can replace face to face teaching and learning. The pat on the back from your teacher, the competition with your friends on stage and on the field, the camaraderie, the jokes, the bunking classes – all seem irreplaceable right now but then again who knows. For how long will “NOW” exist? I never thought I would ever have a cordless phone like James Bond did I?

James Bond and me

The only Social Media I had when I was growing up hundreds of years ago was the Radio! The only stations I tuned in to, on an old Bush radio, were “Radio Ceylon” and the “BBC” . (Of course, there were one or two Indian stations as well). The first for music and the second for the evening news. At times the valve radio did not catch the desired station and one had to give it a thump on the side and presto it obeyed commands thereafter. Whether it was the six am morning music show, cricket matches, Man landing on the moon, late night instrumental music or the daily news – that was Social media for us, and we enjoyed it. Yes we clapped when the cricket commentator shouted out that the batsmen had hit a four or a six and I jumped when I heard those famous words by Neil Armstrong's when he became the first person to set foot on the Moon: "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." Nothing can take away the thrill of those very special moments . Now there is the Internet, television with hundreds of channels to choose from, Facebook, WhatsApp and so many others. The list is endless and continues to grow – who knows what we will have ten and twenty years from now! We are indeed spoilt for choice. I remember going to a movie in my teens and seeing James Bond with a large ungainly looking cordless phone and saying wow! Not that I imagined myself as JB or anything – just the thought of a phone with no wire amazed me. I wondered where it was connected to and how. I remember starting with a Nokia 6210, (Googled to make sure that was the number ) taking it out of my pocket and looking at it often, in the initial days, to make sure I had it and of course to show it off . It was quite a rarity back then and I had sent for it through a relative in Dubai. Now everyone has a phone, and nobody seems to be able to do without it. Children carry it to school , people sign in before an operation , they check it between repetitions in the gym, peep at it in church , click selfies in strange places and feel lost and forlorn if they leave the house without it . I have often forgotten my wallet but rarely my phone. I distinctly remember attending a Leadership programme at “The Tuck school of Business” at Dartmouth some years ago. There were talks, seminars and discussions led by some amazingly intelligent professors from around the world - they almost gave you a complex. One grey haired professor held up his battered old phone and said – “Educationists around the world tell pupils not to bring phones to school – one day , all children will carry to school, will be a phone”- prophetic words indeed . On a slightly different note ….. Looking at schools going online around the world today, I wonder if brick and mortar schools will exist in the future. Everyone is managing quite well and with the advancement of technology this will happen – in fact, it already has. The debate for social interaction will continue and be solved too. Parents and pupils around the world are already getting very comfortable with the “new normal”. Not spending money on uniforms, on purchasing innumerable books, and on travel, is gradually making parents realize the indirect saving they are making and that is something one cannot scoff at in this day and age when every penny counts . Then there is the issue around saving time. With traffic jams and long distances to be travelled between home and school – studying from the comfort of one’s home is now being seen to be very appealing. Lastly with no water bottles and tiffin to be packed every morning, mums are smiling more often! If you notice, I have not even mentioned Covid and the apprehensions, fears and safety concerns around the virus. Mark you – I am not writing schools off any time soon. Nothing can replace face to face teaching and learning. The pat on the back from your teacher, the competition with your friends on stage and on the field, the camaraderie, the jokes, the bunking classes – all seem irreplaceable right now but then again who knows. For how long will “NOW” exist? I never thought I would ever have a cordless phone like James Bond did I?

What is success

Do you consider yourself SUCCESSFUL? I have been thinking about this for a few days now and doing some self-evaluation too. In fact, I sat down and made a list of the areas where I feel I am rather successful. I was not surprised to note, that there are quite a few, where I can do better. I guess a lot depends on what SUCCESS means to you. Is success, peace of mind? Is it material gain? Is it having all you desired and more? Is it a great family life? Is it social recognition? Is it an accomplished aim? Are you successful when you do not fail? Does it have something to do with achievement? Can we compare levels of success? – If I did a better job than you did, was I more successful? Does success have anything to do with age and circumstances? Is success the journey or the destination? Is success a state of the mind? – I feel I am successful, but in someone else’s eyes, I am a failure. Is it self-acceptance of achievement? Does success have anything to do with winning? Is it just a perspective? Should we live for success? This is my take on the topic:- "Success is very personal mindset. It is a journey of self-definition, self-discovery and self-belief. It is about our own desires and sense of fulfillment. Above all, it has a lot to do with the emotional connection we have with ourselves". Would love to hear what you have to say. By the way, do feel free to disagree .

What is success

Do you consider yourself SUCCESSFUL? I have been thinking about this for a few days now and doing some self-evaluation too. In fact, I sat down and made a list of the areas where I feel I am rather successful. I was not surprised to note, that there are quite a few, where I can do better. I guess a lot depends on what SUCCESS means to you. Is success, peace of mind? Is it material gain? Is it having all you desired and more? Is it a great family life? Is it social recognition? Is it an accomplished aim? Are you successful when you do not fail? Does it have something to do with achievement? Can we compare levels of success? – If I did a better job than you did, was I more successful? Does success have anything to do with age and circumstances? Is success the journey or the destination? Is success a state of the mind? – I feel I am successful, but in someone else’s eyes, I am a failure. Is it self-acceptance of achievement? Does success have anything to do with winning? Is it just a perspective? Should we live for success? This is my take on the topic:- "Success is very personal mindset. It is a journey of self-definition, self-discovery and self-belief. It is about our own desires and sense of fulfillment. Above all, it has a lot to do with the emotional connection we have with ourselves". Would love to hear what you have to say. By the way, do feel free to disagree .

Do any of you remember Godfrey Gordon

Dear Former pupils Greetings from Dubai. I need some help and thought of no one else to turn to, but you, dear boys. Actually, help from anyone reading this is welcome – the more the better. Nothing urgent or critical, because if it were something like that, I would call. I have so many of your telephone numbers. Then there is Facebook, Whats-app, Messenger etc . So let me lay it out there ......... Does anyone remember Godfrey Gordon? No? Well, you will by the end of this short story. I believe some people referred to him as GG too. Not too sure . Now let me start at the very beginning, as it’s a very good place to start! Woke this morning and decided to write a short piece as I often do, but then got busy with more important work and writing was put on the back burner. What followed was then a typical weekday – drove to see a few schools, as it was the first day of face to face learning. That was followed by more work on the computer and lunch. Ate a comparatively light lunch so that I did not feel sleepy. Just some simple chicken and tomato rice followed by a custard. I love custard. I know its fattening but today was a cheat day like many others! Anyway, as I was making myself a cup of tea at around 4.00pm, the name ‘Godfrey Gordan’ came to mind. No clue why. Rack my brains is what I did, but despite my best efforts, I could not just fathom out where this name had come to mind from. Was he a boy from Bishops during my time? Was he an ex Bishopite who had left before I joined? Was he a boy I had taught in Dubai? Was he from my hometown Allahabad? Was I suffering from dementia? (I am a bit of a hypochondriac). Could not fathom it out, despite my best efforts and felt a trifle inadequate. Whenever I think of something and fail to come to a conclusion, it troubles me. I then decided to go to the gym but changed my mind at the last moment and decided to go for a long walk instead. I have pulled a muscle and feel that rest will help . It was then, amid walking, listening to Rod Stewart and doing my best to stay as far as possible from fellow walkers, that I had a Eureka moment. I usually call it an ‘aha’ moment, but Eureka sounds better! I almost felt like Newton – the only thing amiss - there was no apple. Yes, I had it. The elusive Godfrey Gordon! You see when I was probably in a primary class, I was taught the Poem which goes something like this: - ‘Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore — No doubt you have heard the name before — Was a boy who never would shut a door! The wind might whistle, the wind might roar, And teeth be aching and throats be sore, But still he never would shut the door’. And so it goes on ( William Brighty Rands) So, this was Godfrey Gordon and here lies the problem. How in Dickens’ name did I think of him? Why would I in the first place? I am not very friendly with anyone named Godfrey or Gordon. I have not read or heard the poem being recited in ages. If I think back, I learnt it about fifty odd years ago! So how and why did it suddenly come to mind? Was it floating around somewhere within my cranium and suddenly decided to pop up and confuse me? Do these things happen? Is it normal? Are there more confusing names to follow? What if suddenly the name Hubert Blaine Wolfe­schlegel­stein­ha comes up. Will I go insane? Now that you know who Godfrey is, can you help me with this puzzle? I will forever be both thankful and grateful! Sincerely Mr Guzder

Do any of you remember Godfrey Gordon

Dear Former pupils Greetings from Dubai. I need some help and thought of no one else to turn to, but you, dear boys. Actually, help from anyone reading this is welcome – the more the better. Nothing urgent or critical, because if it were something like that, I would call. I have so many of your telephone numbers. Then there is Facebook, Whats-app, Messenger etc . So let me lay it out there ......... Does anyone remember Godfrey Gordon? No? Well, you will by the end of this short story. I believe some people referred to him as GG too. Not too sure . Now let me start at the very beginning, as it’s a very good place to start! Woke this morning and decided to write a short piece as I often do, but then got busy with more important work and writing was put on the back burner. What followed was then a typical weekday – drove to see a few schools, as it was the first day of face to face learning. That was followed by more work on the computer and lunch. Ate a comparatively light lunch so that I did not feel sleepy. Just some simple chicken and tomato rice followed by a custard. I love custard. I know its fattening but today was a cheat day like many others! Anyway, as I was making myself a cup of tea at around 4.00pm, the name ‘Godfrey Gordan’ came to mind. No clue why. Rack my brains is what I did, but despite my best efforts, I could not just fathom out where this name had come to mind from. Was he a boy from Bishops during my time? Was he an ex Bishopite who had left before I joined? Was he a boy I had taught in Dubai? Was he from my hometown Allahabad? Was I suffering from dementia? (I am a bit of a hypochondriac). Could not fathom it out, despite my best efforts and felt a trifle inadequate. Whenever I think of something and fail to come to a conclusion, it troubles me. I then decided to go to the gym but changed my mind at the last moment and decided to go for a long walk instead. I have pulled a muscle and feel that rest will help . It was then, amid walking, listening to Rod Stewart and doing my best to stay as far as possible from fellow walkers, that I had a Eureka moment. I usually call it an ‘aha’ moment, but Eureka sounds better! I almost felt like Newton – the only thing amiss - there was no apple. Yes, I had it. The elusive Godfrey Gordon! You see when I was probably in a primary class, I was taught the Poem which goes something like this: - ‘Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore — No doubt you have heard the name before — Was a boy who never would shut a door! The wind might whistle, the wind might roar, And teeth be aching and throats be sore, But still he never would shut the door’. And so it goes on ( William Brighty Rands) So, this was Godfrey Gordon and here lies the problem. How in Dickens’ name did I think of him? Why would I in the first place? I am not very friendly with anyone named Godfrey or Gordon. I have not read or heard the poem being recited in ages. If I think back, I learnt it about fifty odd years ago! So how and why did it suddenly come to mind? Was it floating around somewhere within my cranium and suddenly decided to pop up and confuse me? Do these things happen? Is it normal? Are there more confusing names to follow? What if suddenly the name Hubert Blaine Wolfe­schlegel­stein­ha comes up. Will I go insane? Now that you know who Godfrey is, can you help me with this puzzle? I will forever be both thankful and grateful! Sincerely Mr Guzder

For better sense we pray

FOR BETTER SENSE WE PRAY I am now extremely confused, and immensely concerned. And I am sure it is not me alone- the common man is The unbridled media seems to be going crazy and having a field day We are getting suffocated and being sucked into this hellish vortex partially our fault I guess Stop it please. Stop it now. Enough is enough We are making a laughingstock of ourselves And the joke is on us- unfortunately The whole country is going insane, discussing, debating, arguing Sushant , Rhea and Kangana Showik, Miranda and others too ? Suicide, murder, depression, drugs, nepotism. Money, ambulances, black bags and what have you Rest in peace? The blame game is on – unrestrained, unrivalled & unchecked. The Mumbai film industry? The drug mafia? The BMC? The State or the Central government? The courts, the Mumbai police, the CBI? Who is running the show – who is calling the shots? Is there a ring master? There could be. How else is this crazy media circus being sustained? It is farcical, delusional, and unreal The conspiracy theorists are on a winning spree- galloping gleefully Can we all not just take a step back? What is that modern phrase? Take a ‘chill pill’! Going into overdrive is totally uncalled for Cut the hyperbole, cut the amplification, cut the overkill - PLEASE Let the Courts and the Honourable judges decide and pronounce a verdict. It is their job, their call, and their prerogative Patience is a virtue we human beings need to cultivate We are so used to jumping the gun and landing in the gutter For goodness sake … Everyone is suddenly taking on the job of judge, jury, and executioner. It is absurd, utterly preposterous, and totally uncalled for. Are there not more important issues plaguing the country and needing urgent attention? What about the unemployment? What about the migrant labourers who went home? Where are they and what are they eating? Out of sight – out of mind? What about China and the cross-border firing? China are beating the drums of war while India are often in denial Taking one step forward and two steps back- Why? Cut the rhetoric and take a stand. Take it now. Both countries are shooting at each other on the mountains And discussing treaties in board rooms Peace and war simultaneously? This is a joke in poor taste – something is so wrong Is COVID at the core? Are we missing something? Stranger things have happened no doubt, but this is anomalous and atypical Covid started in China is exploding in India and not getting top billing? It is spiralling out of control And is already a crisis of preposterous proportions. Thousands infected and deaths galore Over ninety thousand daily infections in India,over the last few days We are now number two in the world ¬hing to be proud of Are we mis- managing a crisis? I hope not Let it not become a national calamity That will be damnation There is a Herculean task before the country Let not distractions come in the way For better sense We pray.

For better sense we pray

FOR BETTER SENSE WE PRAY I am now extremely confused, and immensely concerned. And I am sure it is not me alone- the common man is The unbridled media seems to be going crazy and having a field day We are getting suffocated and being sucked into this hellish vortex partially our fault I guess Stop it please. Stop it now. Enough is enough We are making a laughingstock of ourselves And the joke is on us- unfortunately The whole country is going insane, discussing, debating, arguing Sushant , Rhea and Kangana Showik, Miranda and others too ? Suicide, murder, depression, drugs, nepotism. Money, ambulances, black bags and what have you Rest in peace? The blame game is on – unrestrained, unrivalled & unchecked. The Mumbai film industry? The drug mafia? The BMC? The State or the Central government? The courts, the Mumbai police, the CBI? Who is running the show – who is calling the shots? Is there a ring master? There could be. How else is this crazy media circus being sustained? It is farcical, delusional, and unreal The conspiracy theorists are on a winning spree- galloping gleefully Can we all not just take a step back? What is that modern phrase? Take a ‘chill pill’! Going into overdrive is totally uncalled for Cut the hyperbole, cut the amplification, cut the overkill - PLEASE Let the Courts and the Honourable judges decide and pronounce a verdict. It is their job, their call, and their prerogative Patience is a virtue we human beings need to cultivate We are so used to jumping the gun and landing in the gutter For goodness sake … Everyone is suddenly taking on the job of judge, jury, and executioner. It is absurd, utterly preposterous, and totally uncalled for. Are there not more important issues plaguing the country and needing urgent attention? What about the unemployment? What about the migrant labourers who went home? Where are they and what are they eating? Out of sight – out of mind? What about China and the cross-border firing? China are beating the drums of war while India are often in denial Taking one step forward and two steps back- Why? Cut the rhetoric and take a stand. Take it now. Both countries are shooting at each other on the mountains And discussing treaties in board rooms Peace and war simultaneously? This is a joke in poor taste – something is so wrong Is COVID at the core? Are we missing something? Stranger things have happened no doubt, but this is anomalous and atypical Covid started in China is exploding in India and not getting top billing? It is spiralling out of control And is already a crisis of preposterous proportions. Thousands infected and deaths galore Over ninety thousand daily infections in India,over the last few days We are now number two in the world ¬hing to be proud of Are we mis- managing a crisis? I hope not Let it not become a national calamity That will be damnation There is a Herculean task before the country Let not distractions come in the way For better sense We pray.