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.

On being a winner

ON BEING A WINNER I HAVE THREE POINTS FOR YOU TO REFLECT OVER. FIRSTLY – LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, I ENJOY WINNING AND HAVE ALWAYS BEEN COMPETITIVE. NOW YOU WOULD HAVE OFTEN HEARD THE PHRASE – ‘MAKE WINNING A HABIT’- AND ITS DEFINITELY ENCOURAGING AND MOTIVATIONAL. FOR CENTURIES, PARENTS HAVE CELEBRATED AND BEEN ECSTATIC WHEN THEIR CHILDREN HAVE WON ANYTHING – BE IT A SACK RACE ON SPORTS DAY, A POETRY, PAINTING, SINGING OR DANCE COMPETITION OR AN ACADEMIC PRIZE. ITS ALL GOOD . HOWEVER HERE IS THE POINT I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE. THE MORE YOU WIN; THE MORE DIFFICULT IT IS TO FACE A LOSS- BOTH FOR THE CHILD AND THE PARENTS. NOW DON’T GET ME WRONG – I AM NOT AGAINST WINNING - ITS GREAT - BUT I AM ALL FOR WINNERS CONDITIONING THEIR MINDS TO FACE A LOSS- AS AND WHEN IT HAPPENS- AND MARK MY WORDS – IT WILL. THAT IS LIFE AND THIS IS NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. IT WILL BE VERY RARE IF THERE IS SOMEONE WHO HAS NOT FACED A LOSS OR A FAILURE SOMEWHERE ALONG THE LINE. I HAVE AND I WAS RATHER BROKEN. BUT I SHOOK MYSELF OUT OF THAT PHASE AND MOVED ON – UPWARD AND FORWARD. I AM NO SUPERMAN – FAR FROM IT, BUT I HAD NO OTHER ALTERNATIVE. HOWEVER SMART, HOWEVER INTELLIGENT. HOWEVER DILIGENT YOU ARE, YOU MUST REMEMBER THAT YOU WILL NOT ALWAYS COME OUT A WINNER. THAT TOP OF THE PODIUM FINISH, THAT GOLD MEDAL CAN OFTEN ELUDE YOU AND IT MAY NOT EVEN BE YOUR FAULT. THERE WILL BE LOSSES, FAILURES, DISAPPOINTMENTS, FRUSTRATION, ANGER, REGRETS AND TEARS. SO - YOU DID NOT GET INTO THE COLLEGE OR UNIVERSITY YOU SET YOUR HEART ON. YOU DID NOT GET THE MARKS YOU EXPECTED IN SOME EXAMINATION, YOU DIDN’T GET THE PRIZE, THE JOB, THE POSITION , THE PROMOTION, THE LADY YOU LOVED , THE REWARD YOU WORKED SO HARD FOR . THAT IS THE REALITY OF THE SITUATION. IN THIS WORLD OF CUTTHROAT COMPETITION, WHERE LIFE IS OFTEN UNFAIR AND THINGS DO NOT GO AS PER PLAN, PUPILS AND PARENTS MUST SIT DOWN AND TALK THIS MATTER OVER. WHAT IF? THERE ARE FAR TOO MANY SAD AND DEPRESSING STORIES OF WHAT HAPPENED, WHEN PUPILS AND ADULTS SUFFERED A SET BACK IN AN EXAMINATION OR IN LIFE, AND COULD NOT TAKE THE STRAIN. BEING PREPARED IS THE KEY FOR ALL OF US. MENTAL CONDITIONING IS SOMETHING EVERY SCHOOL NEEDS TO TEACH . REMEMBER – YOU ARE NOT DEFEATED WHEN YOU FAIL – YOU ARE DEFEATED WHEN YOU QUIT. SO, PROMISE YOURSELF THAT YOU WILL NEVER BE A QUITTER, BECAUSE QUITTING IS FOR THE FAINTHEARTED. IF AND WHEN YOU LOSE - YOU NEED MENTAL STRENGTH, EMOTIONAL RESILIENCE AND THE DETERMINATION TO PICK YOURSELF UP, DUST YOURSELF OFF AND TRY AGAIN. NEED I ADD THAT AT TIMES SUCH AS THESE, PARENTAL SUPPORT AND UNDERSTANDING IS CRUCIAL. UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS HAVE HAD CATASTROPHIC ENDINGS AS WELL. SECONDLY – WINNERS ARE SPECIAL PEOPLE AND THEY FULLY DESERVE THE ACCOLADES AND REWARDS. HOWEVER, WINNERS AND CHAMPIONS DON’T JUST SHOW UP & TAKE EVERYTHING THEY CAN – THEY SHOW UP AND GIVE EVERYTHING THEY HAVE. ARE YOU WILLING AND READY TO GO OUT INTO THE WORLD AND GIVE? INTELLIGENT WINNERS MUST ALWAYS STRIVE TO BE MAGNANIMOUS, EMPATHETIC, KIND, HELPFUL AND DOWN TO EARTH. THEY MUST SHOW GRATITUDE, STRIVE TO LEND A HELPING HAND, SHARE ACQUIRED KNOWLEDGE AND EXPERTISE, DO GOOD WHEREVER AND WHENEVER THEY CAN, AND PUT PRIDE AND PREJUDICES ASIDE. THIS WORLD CAN DEFINITELY DO WITH INTELLIGENT, COMPASSIONATE LEADERS. NEED I SAY MORE?! LASTLY – DON’T ALWAYS STRIVE TO COMPETE WITH OTHERS. THE ULTIMATE GOAL IN LIFE SHOULD BE TO REALLY REACH DEEP DOWN, WITHIN THE DEPTHS OF YOUR OWN BEING, MUSTER ALL THE STRENGTH , COURAGE AND DETERMINATION WITHIN YOU, AND COMPETE AGAINST YOURSELF . LIFE IS NOT ALWAYS ABOUT BEING BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE – ITS MORE ABOUT BEING BETTER THAN YOU WERE BEFORE

On being a winner

ON BEING A WINNER I HAVE THREE POINTS FOR YOU TO REFLECT OVER. FIRSTLY – LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, I ENJOY WINNING AND HAVE ALWAYS BEEN COMPETITIVE. NOW YOU WOULD HAVE OFTEN HEARD THE PHRASE – ‘MAKE WINNING A HABIT’- AND ITS DEFINITELY ENCOURAGING AND MOTIVATIONAL. FOR CENTURIES, PARENTS HAVE CELEBRATED AND BEEN ECSTATIC WHEN THEIR CHILDREN HAVE WON ANYTHING – BE IT A SACK RACE ON SPORTS DAY, A POETRY, PAINTING, SINGING OR DANCE COMPETITION OR AN ACADEMIC PRIZE. ITS ALL GOOD . HOWEVER HERE IS THE POINT I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE. THE MORE YOU WIN; THE MORE DIFFICULT IT IS TO FACE A LOSS- BOTH FOR THE CHILD AND THE PARENTS. NOW DON’T GET ME WRONG – I AM NOT AGAINST WINNING - ITS GREAT - BUT I AM ALL FOR WINNERS CONDITIONING THEIR MINDS TO FACE A LOSS- AS AND WHEN IT HAPPENS- AND MARK MY WORDS – IT WILL. THAT IS LIFE AND THIS IS NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. IT WILL BE VERY RARE IF THERE IS SOMEONE WHO HAS NOT FACED A LOSS OR A FAILURE SOMEWHERE ALONG THE LINE. I HAVE AND I WAS RATHER BROKEN. BUT I SHOOK MYSELF OUT OF THAT PHASE AND MOVED ON – UPWARD AND FORWARD. I AM NO SUPERMAN – FAR FROM IT, BUT I HAD NO OTHER ALTERNATIVE. HOWEVER SMART, HOWEVER INTELLIGENT. HOWEVER DILIGENT YOU ARE, YOU MUST REMEMBER THAT YOU WILL NOT ALWAYS COME OUT A WINNER. THAT TOP OF THE PODIUM FINISH, THAT GOLD MEDAL CAN OFTEN ELUDE YOU AND IT MAY NOT EVEN BE YOUR FAULT. THERE WILL BE LOSSES, FAILURES, DISAPPOINTMENTS, FRUSTRATION, ANGER, REGRETS AND TEARS. SO - YOU DID NOT GET INTO THE COLLEGE OR UNIVERSITY YOU SET YOUR HEART ON. YOU DID NOT GET THE MARKS YOU EXPECTED IN SOME EXAMINATION, YOU DIDN’T GET THE PRIZE, THE JOB, THE POSITION , THE PROMOTION, THE LADY YOU LOVED , THE REWARD YOU WORKED SO HARD FOR . THAT IS THE REALITY OF THE SITUATION. IN THIS WORLD OF CUTTHROAT COMPETITION, WHERE LIFE IS OFTEN UNFAIR AND THINGS DO NOT GO AS PER PLAN, PUPILS AND PARENTS MUST SIT DOWN AND TALK THIS MATTER OVER. WHAT IF? THERE ARE FAR TOO MANY SAD AND DEPRESSING STORIES OF WHAT HAPPENED, WHEN PUPILS AND ADULTS SUFFERED A SET BACK IN AN EXAMINATION OR IN LIFE, AND COULD NOT TAKE THE STRAIN. BEING PREPARED IS THE KEY FOR ALL OF US. MENTAL CONDITIONING IS SOMETHING EVERY SCHOOL NEEDS TO TEACH . REMEMBER – YOU ARE NOT DEFEATED WHEN YOU FAIL – YOU ARE DEFEATED WHEN YOU QUIT. SO, PROMISE YOURSELF THAT YOU WILL NEVER BE A QUITTER, BECAUSE QUITTING IS FOR THE FAINTHEARTED. IF AND WHEN YOU LOSE - YOU NEED MENTAL STRENGTH, EMOTIONAL RESILIENCE AND THE DETERMINATION TO PICK YOURSELF UP, DUST YOURSELF OFF AND TRY AGAIN. NEED I ADD THAT AT TIMES SUCH AS THESE, PARENTAL SUPPORT AND UNDERSTANDING IS CRUCIAL. UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS HAVE HAD CATASTROPHIC ENDINGS AS WELL. SECONDLY – WINNERS ARE SPECIAL PEOPLE AND THEY FULLY DESERVE THE ACCOLADES AND REWARDS. HOWEVER, WINNERS AND CHAMPIONS DON’T JUST SHOW UP & TAKE EVERYTHING THEY CAN – THEY SHOW UP AND GIVE EVERYTHING THEY HAVE. ARE YOU WILLING AND READY TO GO OUT INTO THE WORLD AND GIVE? INTELLIGENT WINNERS MUST ALWAYS STRIVE TO BE MAGNANIMOUS, EMPATHETIC, KIND, HELPFUL AND DOWN TO EARTH. THEY MUST SHOW GRATITUDE, STRIVE TO LEND A HELPING HAND, SHARE ACQUIRED KNOWLEDGE AND EXPERTISE, DO GOOD WHEREVER AND WHENEVER THEY CAN, AND PUT PRIDE AND PREJUDICES ASIDE. THIS WORLD CAN DEFINITELY DO WITH INTELLIGENT, COMPASSIONATE LEADERS. NEED I SAY MORE?! LASTLY – DON’T ALWAYS STRIVE TO COMPETE WITH OTHERS. THE ULTIMATE GOAL IN LIFE SHOULD BE TO REALLY REACH DEEP DOWN, WITHIN THE DEPTHS OF YOUR OWN BEING, MUSTER ALL THE STRENGTH , COURAGE AND DETERMINATION WITHIN YOU, AND COMPETE AGAINST YOURSELF . LIFE IS NOT ALWAYS ABOUT BEING BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE – ITS MORE ABOUT BEING BETTER THAN YOU WERE BEFORE

I need to purchase a phone

My Samsung Note 9 has served me well over the last two years and I feel it is now time to upgrade as I have begun to face a few issues. Repairing phones is quite a costly proposition here in the UAE, and one is not sure of the outcome either, so I guess a new phone it will be. Went to see if I could have it repaired two days ago. The technician in the first shop had one look at the phone, smiled sarcastically, looked me in the eye and told me, in no uncertain terms & rather brazenly, to throw it out and purchase a new phone. The man in the adjoining shop also smiled, though in a gentler manner, and told me he could repair it for the tidy sum of seven hundred dirhams, but he could not give any guarantee as to how long it would last. I was more inclined to believe the first chap despite his brash demeanour. The second appeared a trifle slimy and I could tell he was lying. I walked out from both shops thanking them for their help. I am polite by nature and it takes a lot to ruffle me. Meanwhile, have also been asking around and while some say that I should stick with Samsung, which is very reliable, others are advising me to shift to Apple- supposedly a world class phone. The way they say ‘Apple’ almost makes me feel like a peasant. People who know me well also know that I hate to be rushed into anything & that I am prone to take my time with such purchases. (TM and SM, I hope you are taking note) And this is where I am in a bit of a quandary. I know there is a big ongoing debate on Samsung vs Apple, and both have their supporters and detractors. However, the jury still seems to be out on this one and Google just seems determined to confuse the world – especially me. I guess there are so many factors to be considered. There is first and foremost the cost factor, as I don’t want to go over the top because , while I won’t be asked details about the phone or the price , there may be remarks about ‘unnecessary expenditure’ when I return with the new phone. Then of course there is the issue of reliability, value for money, size, camera, storage space, looks and other specifications, some of which are a tad too technical for me. I know little and am not interested in Gpu, SoC, VOLTE, NFC, Ultra pixels , Amoled & Bezels – I just want a neat looking smartphone , hardy, large and with a good camera because of late I have begun to fancy myself as a bit of a photographer. Not attempting to win the The Pulitzer Prize for Photography or the Photo of the year or anything so dramatic, but I have clicked a few good snaps of flowers , people , buildings, sun sets and animals ( my cat )and many friends have appreciated the same. Maybe they are just being polite, but I feel encouraged! Unlike my spectacles which I often misplace, this does not happen with my phone, but frankly I will need to be more careful with my new instrument when I get it. Thinking about it, my poor Samsung has seen some rather rough treatment too and that has probably caused it to almost bow down its head and give up the spirit. I have dropped it, stamped on it, wet it, scratched it , almost boiled it , left it near a heat source ( read gas stove), over charged it ( probably time and time again )- everything but thrown it out of the window . And oh yes – I once almost dropped it three floors while attempting to take a photograph of a sandstorm! What is with these sandstorms! Last week I ventured out to look around and survey the ‘phone scene’ in a mall. There to my utter dismay I happened to bang into a ‘smartphone aficionado friend’ . Now what were the odds of that happening? Please don’t get me wrong – he is a nice affable chap , a little loud & a trifle over friendly but good hearted and simple . I made sure he did not hug me as he often does, what with Covid and social distancing and all that frightening stuff – so we banged fists and I half suspected he had become a gym freak, as my fingers hurt after that greeting and I recoiled back in pain but it seemed to have gone unnoticed as he was all jovial and brimming with energy thereafter ! Those ‘not a care in the world’ types I am sure you have met such people in your life too –they seem to be everywhere - big prints on the colourful shirt , jelled wavy hair , blue jeans , track shoes , wrist bands , stuff hanging around the neck, smelling of cologne, rather boisterous- they shake your hand and keep pumping well after you are ready to let go , seem so eager to have met you – shake hands again and smile from ear to ear . Like the good guy I think I am, I said ‘hi’, and smiled warmly although I do not know him that well. Then as a matter of small talk I mentioned that I was looking to buy a new phone. The moment I uttered that sentence I regretted it, and I am sure my face went pale, but it was too late – the deed was done. That did it. His eyes lit up - he took me aside and told me that he had just done a very detailed market analysis as he too wanted to buy a phone. He whipped out a Nokia and seeing it, I became nostalgic as that was the first brand I used. What followed was about forty-five minutes of questioning, information and data driven conversation. Actually it was not a conversation – it was more like a lecture on smartphones as he was the only one talking, while I nodded, yawned, looked around for help in any form , scratched my head in desperation , rolled my eyes , looked at my watch , looked surprised , looked interested , probably looked bored and what have you . All the above apparently had little effect on him as he was so wrapped up in his discourse and his expertise. I could swear I felt a fever coming on. He then asked for my phone which I handed to him meekly with the password to open it as well .He then gave it a quick authoritative ‘lookover’ and needless to add, as expected , he condemned it in no uncertain terms almost making me feel like trashing it there and then . He advised me to go for a Nokia and offered to shop along with me. You would have guessed my answer to that one. Forty-five minutes of my life wasted, and I am now more confused than ever. This morning when I looked at the phone it seemed to be blinking- almost begging me to retire it & put it out to pasture. This weekend the deed will be done.

I need to purchase a phone

My Samsung Note 9 has served me well over the last two years and I feel it is now time to upgrade as I have begun to face a few issues. Repairing phones is quite a costly proposition here in the UAE, and one is not sure of the outcome either, so I guess a new phone it will be. Went to see if I could have it repaired two days ago. The technician in the first shop had one look at the phone, smiled sarcastically, looked me in the eye and told me, in no uncertain terms & rather brazenly, to throw it out and purchase a new phone. The man in the adjoining shop also smiled, though in a gentler manner, and told me he could repair it for the tidy sum of seven hundred dirhams, but he could not give any guarantee as to how long it would last. I was more inclined to believe the first chap despite his brash demeanour. The second appeared a trifle slimy and I could tell he was lying. I walked out from both shops thanking them for their help. I am polite by nature and it takes a lot to ruffle me. Meanwhile, have also been asking around and while some say that I should stick with Samsung, which is very reliable, others are advising me to shift to Apple- supposedly a world class phone. The way they say ‘Apple’ almost makes me feel like a peasant. People who know me well also know that I hate to be rushed into anything & that I am prone to take my time with such purchases. (TM and SM, I hope you are taking note) And this is where I am in a bit of a quandary. I know there is a big ongoing debate on Samsung vs Apple, and both have their supporters and detractors. However, the jury still seems to be out on this one and Google just seems determined to confuse the world – especially me. I guess there are so many factors to be considered. There is first and foremost the cost factor, as I don’t want to go over the top because , while I won’t be asked details about the phone or the price , there may be remarks about ‘unnecessary expenditure’ when I return with the new phone. Then of course there is the issue of reliability, value for money, size, camera, storage space, looks and other specifications, some of which are a tad too technical for me. I know little and am not interested in Gpu, SoC, VOLTE, NFC, Ultra pixels , Amoled & Bezels – I just want a neat looking smartphone , hardy, large and with a good camera because of late I have begun to fancy myself as a bit of a photographer. Not attempting to win the The Pulitzer Prize for Photography or the Photo of the year or anything so dramatic, but I have clicked a few good snaps of flowers , people , buildings, sun sets and animals ( my cat )and many friends have appreciated the same. Maybe they are just being polite, but I feel encouraged! Unlike my spectacles which I often misplace, this does not happen with my phone, but frankly I will need to be more careful with my new instrument when I get it. Thinking about it, my poor Samsung has seen some rather rough treatment too and that has probably caused it to almost bow down its head and give up the spirit. I have dropped it, stamped on it, wet it, scratched it , almost boiled it , left it near a heat source ( read gas stove), over charged it ( probably time and time again )- everything but thrown it out of the window . And oh yes – I once almost dropped it three floors while attempting to take a photograph of a sandstorm! What is with these sandstorms! Last week I ventured out to look around and survey the ‘phone scene’ in a mall. There to my utter dismay I happened to bang into a ‘smartphone aficionado friend’ . Now what were the odds of that happening? Please don’t get me wrong – he is a nice affable chap , a little loud & a trifle over friendly but good hearted and simple . I made sure he did not hug me as he often does, what with Covid and social distancing and all that frightening stuff – so we banged fists and I half suspected he had become a gym freak, as my fingers hurt after that greeting and I recoiled back in pain but it seemed to have gone unnoticed as he was all jovial and brimming with energy thereafter ! Those ‘not a care in the world’ types I am sure you have met such people in your life too –they seem to be everywhere - big prints on the colourful shirt , jelled wavy hair , blue jeans , track shoes , wrist bands , stuff hanging around the neck, smelling of cologne, rather boisterous- they shake your hand and keep pumping well after you are ready to let go , seem so eager to have met you – shake hands again and smile from ear to ear . Like the good guy I think I am, I said ‘hi’, and smiled warmly although I do not know him that well. Then as a matter of small talk I mentioned that I was looking to buy a new phone. The moment I uttered that sentence I regretted it, and I am sure my face went pale, but it was too late – the deed was done. That did it. His eyes lit up - he took me aside and told me that he had just done a very detailed market analysis as he too wanted to buy a phone. He whipped out a Nokia and seeing it, I became nostalgic as that was the first brand I used. What followed was about forty-five minutes of questioning, information and data driven conversation. Actually it was not a conversation – it was more like a lecture on smartphones as he was the only one talking, while I nodded, yawned, looked around for help in any form , scratched my head in desperation , rolled my eyes , looked at my watch , looked surprised , looked interested , probably looked bored and what have you . All the above apparently had little effect on him as he was so wrapped up in his discourse and his expertise. I could swear I felt a fever coming on. He then asked for my phone which I handed to him meekly with the password to open it as well .He then gave it a quick authoritative ‘lookover’ and needless to add, as expected , he condemned it in no uncertain terms almost making me feel like trashing it there and then . He advised me to go for a Nokia and offered to shop along with me. You would have guessed my answer to that one. Forty-five minutes of my life wasted, and I am now more confused than ever. This morning when I looked at the phone it seemed to be blinking- almost begging me to retire it & put it out to pasture. This weekend the deed will be done.

Was I day dreaming?

Well , you know you are probaby day dreaming , have turned old, are preoccupied , going bonkers or all of the above , when you let the entire "BLUE CHRISTMAS" play on the car CD player and then just as its over , you smile to yourself and wonder how in heaven's name you let that happen! We are only in September for goodness sake. Well this just happened with me and now I am seriously worried. I am positive I was not day dreaming . I am old for sure but not doddering or ancient . I was very focused and alert as I had just come out of a good session at the gym . That only leaves 'going bonkers'! Could that be it ? Surely not. I wrote poetry this morning and was pleased at the outcome. I do fancy myself as an amateur poet of sorts. Just my opinion. To top it all, I then walked briskly into the house, picked up my guitar and started singing 'PLEASE RELEASE ME ' -:a rather old song by Englebert Humperdinck . You need to hear the lyrics if you don't know the song, if not this will probably fly over your head. I liked how I sounded so I played it again and sang even louder. My wife heard it, made a face which was not exactly a happy one, and walked into the next room muttering . Not too sure I will be getting dinner tonight ! What's with these stupid songs?

Was I day dreaming?

Well , you know you are probaby day dreaming , have turned old, are preoccupied , going bonkers or all of the above , when you let the entire "BLUE CHRISTMAS" play on the car CD player and then just as its over , you smile to yourself and wonder how in heaven's name you let that happen! We are only in September for goodness sake. Well this just happened with me and now I am seriously worried. I am positive I was not day dreaming . I am old for sure but not doddering or ancient . I was very focused and alert as I had just come out of a good session at the gym . That only leaves 'going bonkers'! Could that be it ? Surely not. I wrote poetry this morning and was pleased at the outcome. I do fancy myself as an amateur poet of sorts. Just my opinion. To top it all, I then walked briskly into the house, picked up my guitar and started singing 'PLEASE RELEASE ME ' -:a rather old song by Englebert Humperdinck . You need to hear the lyrics if you don't know the song, if not this will probably fly over your head. I liked how I sounded so I played it again and sang even louder. My wife heard it, made a face which was not exactly a happy one, and walked into the next room muttering . Not too sure I will be getting dinner tonight ! What's with these stupid songs?