Transportation

 Transportation is essential for movement, connecting people to places. From prams to luxury vehicles, each mode reflects our needs, desires, and the times we live in.

For me, like many of you, it all began with me in a pram, probably wailing at the top of my lungs while being pushed around. It must have been fun after all; I had no responsibilities. For others, it was likely a convenient way to keep me out of the way and above all, to keep me out of trouble, or at least to avoid hearing me wail.

 Then came a red tricycle, which I feel I remember. I could be wrong, but I like to think I zipped through rooms on it, maybe over people's toes—perhaps even getting scolded for it. 

Next up was school, which at first had me traveling by cycle rickshaw driven by a trusted man who lived nearby. It was a slow journey - leisurely and quite enjoyable.  Then came my trusted ladies' bike. Supposedly, my mum had ridden it as a girl, making it ancient by the time it reached me. After some dusting off, a coat of paint, and a hundred rupees later, I was zipping around town. Who cared if it was a lady’s bike? I was finally mobile. It took me, friends, and a girl or two on a few adventures—I won’t name names for obvious reasons. School, church and the market were now a breeze. 

Soon after came the big upgrade—a gents' bike bought second-hand for another hundred rupees. It was in  immaculate condition, and I spent hours on weekends cleaning it to perfection.

 Fast forward to married life, and my excitement reached new heights with the purchase of a shiny greyish new Bajaj Super scooter. My wife, two kids, and I braved the heat, cold, and rain, zipping around town with a sense of freedom. This was life, and I was thrilled to bits. It was always well maintained and my pride and joy.

Then, life took me to Dubai, where we were forced to move around by taxi till I got a driving license.  I was then given a company-owned Nissan Sunny to use. It had seen better days, but hey, it was a car. A year later, I was cruising around in a new one. 

When I became Principal, the school handed me a maroon Mazda 6. What a car to drive - smooth, sleek and low-slung.  But I was just getting started. I then bought my own Pajero, traded it in after four years for an even better one.

Now, I drive a  pearl-white Land Cruiser. Its glossy finish shines in the Dubai sun, exuding sophistication and power. Inside, it blends luxury with utility—leather seats, a few high-tech features, and a spacious cabin. The Land Cruiser handles the chaotic roads with ease, offering smooth rides and reliable safety features. Whether it's the heat or rain, it’s built for anything, providing both comfort and confidence on every journey.

And who knows? Maybe I'm tempted for an upgrade. But for now, this Land Cruiser takes me from point A to point B . Age, budget, and a touch of personal flair all come together, making the ride unforgettable.

My mother

 Miss my mum even more so, at this time of the year.

What remain are beautifully nostalgic memories and a few keepsakes—a set of her old house keys, a faded passport, a weathered bank passbook, a gas regulator tucked away somewhere, and a handful of other little knick-knacks that hold so much meaning. Mothers are truly special, and mine was exceptional in every way.

Her unconditional love and countless sacrifices, most of which I only came to recognize and appreciate much later—were the bedrock of my childhood. She had an incredible memory and unmatched culinary skills, always creating magic in the kitchen. There were some dishes that only she could make! She was a remarkable woman, balancing her role as a part-time beautician and hairdresser, a job she pursued with passion, with being an exquisite dancer. Her graceful waltz, lively cha-cha-cha, and elegant tango were unforgettable. She was strikingly beautiful, poised, and ever so elegant.

She also had some special shops in Civil Lines, Allahabad, that she often visited as a young lady along with me, and later too—Ladies Corner, Kohinoor Chemist, Box Man, Fitwell and Chopra Shoes. There was a famous pastry shop that sold exquisite patties, chicken sandwiches, and pastries she loved (though I can’t quite recall the name). And of course, there was Penny's Beauty Parlour—run by her niece and my cousin—where she would go for her haircuts. Bushy the baker was a must-visit during Christmas time, to bake the traditional Christmas cakes. It wasn’t just about the cakes, though; it was also about catching up on the latest Allahabad news. The talkative baker always seemed to know everything—who baked what and how many! She traveled everywhere in a cycle rickshaw, often keeping the rickshaw driver waiting far too long, and ending up paying more than she should have.

She adored my wife, her daughter-in-law, and her two grandchildren with all her heart. Allahabad was her true home, especially her beloved house in the Thornhill Club, filled with countless friends and cherished memories. Even when she visited us in Pune or Dubai, her heart always longed to return to her home. It may not have been as comfortable as ours, but it was where she felt happiest.

She had a wonderful way of making even the ordinary seem extraordinary—feeding the stray dog that, in truth, may have adopted her; haggling with door-to-door vendors for the best deal; shouting at naughty boys playing football near her door, or sparring affectionately with the servant girl who often tested her patience. Her Sundays were incomplete without church, and even in her 80s, she carried herself with dignity, always looking fresh and tidy.

This Christmas, as every Christmas, I miss her deeply. Her absence is felt at every moment, but it’s during this season that the ache is strongest.

 Mum, you are missed every day, but especially now, when the warmth of your presence, your laughter, and your love would have lit up our celebrations.

Valentine Massey Penny's Beauty Parlour Annette D'SylvaAlisha GuzderPylee VargheseLorraine GomesHerman GomesStanley FrancisBrigitte FrancisEleanor Sybil DcruzMarushka Martins

Reflection Gratitude and Love ...

 Reflection, gratitude and love ................

We are coming to the end of 2024 - As the season of retrospection, gratitude, giving & love envelopes us, and Christmas lights twinkle brighter than my willpower around a box of chocolates, or a delicious ice cream, I find myself reflecting   on all there is to be thankful for- and there is so much. 

This year, like so many others, has been a beautifully intricate tapestry woven with highs and lows, moments of pure joy and quiet introspection, victories to celebrate, and challenges that tested my resilience. 

Through it all, I have been deeply grateful to the people who surround me—family who offer unconditional love and steadfast support, friends who bring laughter and perspective, and colleagues whose dedication and camaraderie inspire me daily- and a special mention of two granddaughters who I dote on!

Each of these relationships, in their own unique way, has added depth, meaning, and richness to my journey. They have turned even the most difficult moments into opportunities for growth and reflection, making every step of this year profoundly worthwhile.

A special mention about my former pupils will not be out of place - your continued respect, accomplishments, and heartfelt connections serve as a constant reminder of why I chose this remarkable profession. 

Reflecting on my journey, I recall with fondness my very first teaching assignment at The Boys’ High School in Allahabad, my beloved hometown, where I stepped into the world of education as a Grade 5 teacher. Those early days were filled with both challenges and triumphs, as I learned the ropes of a career that would come to define my life.

The Bishop’s School in Pune became my second home and a place of immense growth, both personally and professionally. Spanning 20 incredible years, my time there saw me evolve from a classroom teacher to headmaster, with various roles in between. It was here that I truly discovered the transformative power of education and the unshakable bond between teacher and student—a bond that continues to resonate deeply with me.

In Dubai, my journey brought me to the Modern High School, where I had the privilege of serving as Headmaster and being part of a vibrant, dynamic school community. And then to The Millennium School, where I spent 13 extraordinary years as Principal, helping to shape a school that would inspire both pupils and staff alike.

Teaching is such an incredible profession. It’s not just about imparting knowledge; it’s about nurturing character, fostering dreams, and creating a legacy that lives on through the achievements of others. To all my former pupils—from Allahabad to Pune and Dubai, your teenage antics may now be the stuff of humorous legend, but your respect, resilience, and triumphs are what truly define you. You remind me every day why I do what I do and why the role of an educator is one of life’s greatest privileges.

Living in the UAE, one of the safest and most progressive countries in the world, is a blessing we sometimes overlook. Immaculate streets, world-class healthcare, smooth roads (that can’t be blamed for being late), and a truly outstanding education system, it’s all here. Where else can you enjoy this level of efficiency with such diversity and harmony? And yes, let's not forget the freedom to worship, which is a gift not all parts of the world can claim.

As the year draws to a close, I pray for peace in a world that is too often shaken by war, suffering, and loss. Let us cherish what we have, be it health, friendship, or just another day. Here's to looking back with gratitude and ahead with hope. And if all else fails, there’s always another slice of Christmas cake waiting!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Getting ready for Christmas

 So it’s the 16th December 2022.

Nine days to go for Christmas and there is excitement in the air. 

Thanks to Facebook , Messenger, WhatsApp and the like , many of us have been receiving our FIRST CHRISTMAS CARD , OUR FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE , OUR FIRST SANTA , OUR FIRST SNOWMAN over and over again from the 1st December onwards  . Not to mention being HIT by the FIRST VIRTUAL SNOW BALL .

 Nice – thank you - but a bit too much and over the top at times . 

Cakes and cookies, wine and chocolates  are being made  , Turkeys ordered and then there is that wild clamour to purchase gifts  in the malls . More often than not there are the usual end of year  sales where everyone ends up buying stuff they do not need in the first place . 

Christmas Trees went up during the first week of December and those who could not find last year’s decorations, as they had been put away safely and now can’t be found , went out and bought new ones – only to find the old ones in perfectly good condition a few days later !

Then there are the curtains and the cushions- the new crockery and the crystal glasses kept for those special occasions .  

Not to forget  the urgent requirement for  new clothes and shoes which suddenly become a necessity despite the cupboard already being stocked with recent purchases   .

 If you are a lady , then this is a time consuming operation . Many shops are visited and bored, tired looking  salesmen can be seen putting back dozens of pairs of shoes , folding meters of  material and putting clothes back on hangers – obviously someone looked and walked on to the next shop where the same exercise was repeated .

 Most gentlemen are adept at quick shopping and are less fussy than their female counterparts  . They know what they want – go in and  get it and the job is over and done with before you can say Ho Ho Ho ! 

 Remember I said MOST . I know of many fusspots who spend ages and are somehow never satisfied with the goods on offer . 

These are the bespoke guys who take pride in giving measurements and going for umpteen trials- good for you .  

Schools are closed now and the children are suddenly in everyone’s way – wanting to eat meals at odd times  , itching to go out , asking for gifts ,  begging to be taken to the park . 

All in all it’s a season of fun – friends to catch up with , time to travel if you so desire ,  great weather , plenty  to eat and not to forget – WEIGHT TO GAIN !

And by the way for those Christians like me – let’s not forget to keep the CHRIST in Christmas.

Be kind to one another !

Spectacles

 While many believe that Benjamin Franklin invented spectacles, actually it was Salvino D'Armati, a 13th century Italian from Florence. In reality, I do not care who invented them, as I am not very fond of them in the first place. 

 Some believe that shades or dark glasses were worn even earlier than that to protect the eyes from the bright sun.

I started wearing spectacles in my 40’s and dark glasses about ten years before that.

This morning I woke at about five am, as I always do to read the newspapers and then spent around twenty minutes searching for my glasses. You can put this down to old age, amnesia, and the onset of dementia or whatever. You can call me careless, sleepy head or a forgetful old man- I DO NOT CARE!

I finally found them – they had slipped between the end of the sofa and the cushion.  Thrilled, I opened the door, picked up the newspapers and sat down to read them. Only then did I realize that these were my “distance glasses”. The “reading” glasses had been near my pillow throughout. 

Now I know you are sniggering at me having different spectacles for reading and distance but that is me. 

I did try the progressive ones a few years ago for a few days- three to be precise- got splitting migraines,  felt nauseous and put them aside for good.

So now, I carry two pairs around and that is the problem. Am usually wearing one and have the other in my pocket. Most of my shirts do not have pockets and if I am not wearing a coat, the second pair is usually deep in the trouser pocket.

This causes them to go out of shape and often become lopsided soon. I am quite careless with spectacles as well and often leave them lying around – on  office tables , on peg tables at home , beside me on the sofa , on the seat of the car , in the receptacle between the car seats etc  . When reading, the second pair is often on my lap and the obvious happens- I get up in a hurry and the glasses are on the floor. I have stamped them, kicked them and once smashed them as well. 

I am constantly being advised on how to look after them – get lanyards, use a case, treat them with respect, don’t let them lie around- this advice goes in from one year and out of the other . 

No, I am not proud of the way I treat my spectacles but I am so fed up with the two pairs. 

As a young boy I remember hearing conversations of people having used their spectacles for years – they never broke, were damaged or lost!  How they managed with the same pair for years beats me.

In addition, I have not yet mentioned something else. Last week I suddenly put on my glasses (in the morning) and was definite I was losing my vision. Everything was a blur in the right eye. Thoughts of cataract and glaucoma raced through my mind as I rushed to the washroom and washed my eye and the glasses too. 

Only then did I realize that the lens were badly scratched and my eyes were fine. Thankful for small mercies!

Therefore, off I went to the optician to have the lens changed. He recognized me and seemed rather pleased – do not think any of his customers go through four pairs of glasses in a year.

While I sit at my computer, keying in this article, I am wearing my old spectacles. I used the old distance ones while driving this morning. Once I get the newer pairs back, I will give these in for a similar lens change – you guessed it right – both these pairs are scratched as well.

Long weekends in the UAE

 Just let it be a ‘long weekend’ (a few days holiday added to the weekend) —and the UAE transforms into a frenzied blur of hyperactivity. Except for old sloth bears like me, everyone else is suddenly ‘charged up and ready to go anywhere’ like there is no tomorrow. 

Cars are fueled up and tire pressures checked.  Essentials like tents, sleeping bags, weather-appropriate clothing, barbecue sets, sturdy boots, stoves, cookware, non-perishable food, water bottles, navigation tools, first aid kits, flashlights and emergency items, and hygiene basics like toothbrushes, soap etc.  are all packed and secured. No time to be wasted at all. 

Social media explodes with updates of people camping under the stars, driving over dunes, vehicles getting stuck in the sand, or families and friends barbecuing with such zeal you'd think they were auditioning for a steak commercial. There's jet-skiing in the morning, mountain climbing by noon, and hopping between parks, resorts, and shopping malls by evening. Some even manage to squeeze in a full-body workout on the beach while simultaneously planning a pub crawl. Impressive and invigorating? Sure. Exhausting? Definitely!!

And then there’s me, an unapologetic member of the Non-Extreme Weekend Society. While others are out conquering ‘wadis’, waves and mountains, I’m conquering the weeds in my garden—though they seem to win most of the time. My grandkids? Adorable little bundles of joy turn into tiny tyrants the moment I suggest a nap. “Play, Grandpa!” they demand, and by play, they mean testing how many ways they can climb me, force my eyes open, pull my toes and scream in my ear – you get the drift! And then there is the house cat and the stray to care of too ! 

When the family chaos subsides, I retreat to the couch, remote in hand, to watch what some might call the "idiot box." But hey, a little mindless TV never hurt anyone, especially when it’s paired with some nice wine and snacks I don’t have to share. I might even dabble in writing, reading, music, or engage in my favorite pastime: wondering why everyone else voluntarily exhausts themselves.

People say, “Get a life!” But I beg to differ. I have a calm, unhurried, beautifully boring life. While others spend their weekends recovering from their adventures, I start my week well-rested, with just a hint of smugness.

That’s just the way I like it !

Probably gyms are not my cup of tea

 Probably gyms are not my cup of tea

 

My daughters have been relentless. “Dad- You need to get fit!” they said on my birthday. At my age, I believe wisdom grows as muscles shrink, but they weren’t buying it. So, with a heavy heart (and an even heavier body), I decided, on the weekend , to check out a well-known gym close to our place, to see if I could summon the courage to join. In fact, on the way there, I began convincing myself that I would, and in my silly stupor, I saw myself working out regularly and beefing up in a short span of time. I was inspired and I was ready – this was going to be life changing. 

The moment I stepped inside, my eagerness began evaporating and I was overwhelmed to say the very least. The place wasn’t a gym- oh no! It was a high-octane, sweat-soaked coliseum of fitness, alive with the clanging of weights, the rhythmic pounding of treadmills, and the relentless drive of bodies in motion." Music blared at an earsplitting decibel, presumably to drown out the collective grunting. Towering bodybuilders stomped about like modern-day gladiators, their muscles glistening with a sheen of perspiration that had to be seen, to be believed. Meanwhile, lean women with taut bodies sprinted furiously on treadmills, as if auditioning for an action movie.

As I ventured further into this fortress of fitness, I couldn’t help but marvel at the people who seemed to embody the very essence of health and vitality.

The men were an imposing sight. Most were tall, broad-shouldered, and bursting with muscle in places I didn’t even know existed. Their tank tops clung to their physiques, barely containing their bulging biceps and rippling torsos. Veins snaked down their arms, pulsing with every curl of an oversized dumbbell. They moved purposefully, some striding across the gym with the confidence of lions surveying their domain. Their faces were intense, jaws clenched in determination, and every so often, a loud grunt or roar escaped as they pushed their limits. The air around them seemed charged, like they were warriors preparing for battle. A man near me pushed about six strips of gum into his mouth, and began chewing with a vengeance, like there was no tomorrow, before moving towards a rowing machine. 

Then there were the women. They were no less impressive, each picture of elegance wrapped in sheer power, some very pretty. Their outfits were sleek, vibrant, and as form-fitting as a second skin, revealing beautifully sculpted arms, toned and tanned legs, and abs so well defined, they could double as washboards. Some were on the treadmill, running at speeds that would leave me gasping after a few minutes. Others gracefully moved through strength exercises, lifting weights that looked impossibly heavy, with a calm, unbothered expression. Their hair, whether tied in tight, high ponytails, or wrapped in colorful headbands, seemed to defy the humidity of the gym. Many of these men and women looked like models -Impossibly fit, with sculpted perfection, radiating confidence and making people like me question, not only our life choices, but our very existence "

I stood there, wide-eyed and rooted to the spot, while people around me lifted weights that looked much heavier than me. Others were rowing so fiercely; I half expected their machines to crack under the strain.  Dumbbells clanged, fancy machines whirred, and everywhere I looked, there were headphones of every size and shape, creating an eerie symphony of panting and muffled beats. They all seemed to be from a totally different planet, and no one I had ever visited

One gentleman caught my eye as soon as he entered, and I watched him with a tinge of envy and dismay. He had certainly arrived prepared for a lengthy fitness expedition. Out of his enormous sky-blue bag there emerged two large bottles of water, a bottle of protein shake (which he guzzled with gusto), two pairs of trainers , a pair of slippers two large towels, a headband, wristbands, black headphones, and—wait for it—a bunch of bananas. He spread his belongings out like a picnic setup, while eyeing his domain and waving to fellow gym buffs- he was a regular, as everyone seemed to know him. He then began a vigorous warm up session – stretching and jumping, punctuated by guttural grunts that could give a bear in distress, a run for its money.

Warm ups complete, he wolfed down two or three bananas and then   lunged forward with a barbell balanced across his shoulders, his face a mix of focus and grit. Moving to the bench press, he powered through heavy reps, his muscles straining with every lift. Nearby, he transitioned to pull-ups, his body rising and falling like a machine in perfect rhythm. Finally, with dumbbells in hand, he attacked bicep curls, sweat glistening as determination radiated from every movement. Ironically, his T – shirt had the word MIKE printed on it! 

I must admit - the overall dedication was palpable. Couples worked out together, encouraging each other with subtle nods or high fives, exuding a sense of camaraderie I hadn’t expected. I saw one duo sharing a laugh, as they swapped a set of kettlebells, only to immediately transform into focus machines the moment they started lifting.

Amidst it all were the quiet outliers, the loners in their corner, small earbuds firmly in place, tuning out the world, as they performed their simple routines with military precision.

We were then shown the innumerable saunas, steam rooms, cryotherapy chambers, infra-red tables, ice bathrooms and whatever else they had available.  These spaces provide holistic wellness beyond just workouts, appealing to fitness enthusiasts and those seeking rejuvenation alike. They appealed to me! There was also a small café which looked inviting . 

Beyond the chaos of the spacious gym floor, a 50-meter pool glistened under the sun, where swimmers glided like graceful dolphins. Their energy, vitality, and stamina were awe-inspiring. I, however, felt deflated just watching. I can hardly swim to save my life.

 Beside the pool, people lounged on deck chairs, sipping hot coffee or fresh juice or whatever. Everyone looked chilled and relaxed except me. I couldn’t wait to get out.  

 My visit was awe-inspiring, yet utterly intimidating. These men and women were living proof of what the human body could achieve. I, however, felt more like an out-of-place observer in their temple of transformation.

As I shuffled back to my car, I decided this gym wasn’t for me. I’d get fit...somewhere less terrifying. Maybe yoga? Or perhaps just walking briskly round the lake, like I often do. Maybe I will also start meditating! 

Probably gyms are not my cup of tea.

Times are changing

 Times are definitely changing and so are behaviours . 

I reflect on so many people I knew as a boy- they carried  themselves with quiet grace, every movement deliberate and unhurried. Their calm demeanor and measured words exuded an air of quiet confidence, drawing others in with simplicity and sincerity. They were not boring by any chance -quite to the contrary ,  they were full of fun and  they came across as genuine, interesting , kind and empathetic, and thereby lies the difference. There are many like that around even today . 

However , I now tend to see a larger number of individuals,  whose exuberance seems to fill the room, complete with loud declarations, corny jokes, general excitement , dramatic gestures, and a seemingly endless supply of love , happiness and positivity. 

They hug, kiss, send flying kisses, jump around like cats on hot tin roofs,and  dress rather flamboyantly—often drawing attention wherever they go. 

Their conversations pulse with infectious energy, voices rising and gestures amplifying every word. Expressions shift between wonder, delight, and urgency, each moment brimming with the thrill of potential revelation, captivating all around them. 

I often wonder -  is this genuine, is it a performance?- or am I just a dull soul? 

 For some, this hyper-enthusiasm may be an expression of their authentic self—a natural inclination to engage with life wholeheartedly and that's fine . They see the world as a stage, their actions driven by passion, optimism, and a desire to connect.

But for others, this could be a façade;  a carefully constructed image to mask insecurities or project an illusion of unshakable joy and purpose. Imposter syndrome maybe ? 

Social media and societal pressures often glorify the "charged-up, life-changing" persona, encouraging people to adopt it, even when it doesn’t resonate internally- and many do ! 

 I find it a trifle nauseating and that's just me voicing a thought  .

For me , excessive positivity  feels alienating, as I  prefer subtler and more  grounded interactions. 

Life isn’t always sunshine, laughter and rainbows, and perpetual cheerfulness  comes across as insincere or rather dismissive of life’s realities and complexities.

In truth, not everyone needs to attempt to change the world in dramatic ways to make an impact. 

Quiet contributions often speak volumes, but often, those people are looked down upon as not contributing significantly enough to world progress! 

 Whether the exuberance on display is genuine or just a show is the question -  perhaps the key lies in staying true to oneself—whether that means whispering in the background or shouting from the rooftops.

As Oscar Wilde once quipped, “Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.”

A leader's code

Seek guidance first, and keep your mind ajar;
The strong stay open, even when resolved.
Speak well of others; share your heart with grace,
And tell of teachers, not of what you know.

Reflect and change; let focus steer your path,
But guard against self-deception’s slow creep.
Receive correction with a grateful heart,
And stay composed when tempests test your calm.

True optimists embrace the climb as hard,
Yet trust we’ll rise to meet the highest peaks.
Give space for others’ truths to find their voice;
Stand firm with grace, for bullies show their lack.

Lead with trust, seek no gain from powerless hands,
And read—true wisdom lights in shared delight.
Embrace the mystery of leading well,
A privilege to inspire and be inspired.

My birthday is drawing near

 Pre Birthday Reflections at 4. 30 am 

My birthday’s near; I look back on the past,

On childhood days, which seemed endless and vast.

The wait for the day when my age would rise,

New clothes, party plans, and big, eager eyes.

A simple home party, close friends all around,

With cakes and sweet treats and laughter's warm sound.

Eager to see what each present would bring,

With dreams that grew larger with each passing spring.

I longed to grow older, to taste teenage years,

Those wonderfilled times, of joy and new fears.

Love's first glimmers, distractions at play,

Books forgotten, my heart led the way.

My 21st came, but passed without flair,

In quiet Allahabad, barely aware.

Then, thirty knocked, with life rushing by,

Marriage, children, the years seemed to fly.

Now decades have passed, and with grandkids in tow,

Birthdays are gentler, with a warm, steady glow.

Family gathered, hearts full of grace,

Love and gratitude in each smiling face.

For each year gifted, I thank the divine,

His blessings unending, my life intertwined.

Getting older—a privilege, rare and dear,

To cherish each moment, with courage and cheer.

So I welcome the years, both gentle and wise,

Determined to live, to seek, and to rise.

Each birthday a blessing, each day a new chance,

To honor this journey, to sing, and to dance.

Children' s day

 Dear Boys and Girls / or should I say Ladies and gentlemen !

Let me begin by wishing you a HAPPY CHILDREN"S DAY !

Children’s Day always brings fond memories of my years with you – from the iconic Boys High School in Allahabad, the unforgettable-  Bishop’s School,  Pune, The Modern High School in Dubai, to The Millennium School , Dubai  and the GEMS schools I work with across the UAE. 

My Classroom teaching , the tests and exams, the attempted cheating , the laughter, the antics, the games, the clubs, The scouts,  the functions  and yes, even the “sneaky escapes” are still etched in my mind! 

Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, whose birthday we celebrate today, would be thrilled to know how the mischievous, determined young minds I saw every day - some for many years - have grown into such accomplished, responsible adults ( Hopefully ) 

Who can  forget those who attempted to “bunk” a class (of course, to rehearse for school functions or a big cricket match – or so I was told!). The Bishops boarders who slipped out at night , the sports fields and courts  where we shared countless games of volleyball, badminton, and table tennis, and those intense matches where no one ever wanted to lose! What about the Founder's days in BHS and Bishops - and let’s not forget the Bishop’s boarders who I looked  after-  as both Dorm incharge and later Boarding Suptd. – the shared meals, the camaraderie, the dorm feasts  the unspoken bonds formed over meals in the dining hall. 

I still remember so many boarders in Bishops  who helped put up the stage curtains and lights and put away the chairs after the Friday movies - while walking through a haunted passage ! 

To each one of you who lent me a hand in school activities, from organizing grand school functions, to daily class duties, thank you. Some would remember doing my attendance register for me and helping me with marksheets ! 

Our Literary club, My Debaters, the actors , the elocutionists - My House and school captains and prefects  ! Wow - memories are made of this .  

You probably didn’t know it then, but each task you undertook was a tiny building block in shaping who you are today. and I hope you see it that way .

 I definitely see it in the way you have become leaders and contributors, creative thinkers, engineers, artists, entrepreneurs, doctors, and more.

 From the school campus to social media, your success stories fill me with immense pride and joy. The fact that so many of you still keep in touch, even from all corners of the world, speaks volumes about our shared journey and the bond we’ll always have. I have met dozens of you , years after you have passed out and the joy and catch ups has been memorable. Some of our batch get togethers are etched in my memory.  

Today, you are indeed movers and shakers in society and the world at large . 

But remember, while achievements are certainly admirable, it is your character and kindness that make the lasting impact. 

Raise your own children to be the same – compassionate, kind, loving , humble, and true to their values, for, in the end, this is what matters the most. If you can do that- you are a success . 

On this Children’s Day, as we celebrate the spirit of youth and the legacy of Nehru, I want to thank you for your love, respect, and all the amazing memories. 

Here’s to continuing this journey of being good human beings together.

With all my love and blessings

Michael Guzder

Keys have a life of their own

 I truly feel that suitcase keys lead a mysterious life of their own and are masters of disappearing acts and epic annoyances.

Fully aware of their importance, they seem to vanish just when I need them most. It's as if they wait for the perfect moment to launch their disappearing act, watching me frantically search pockets, bags, and every improbable spot. They’re in on the joke, probably laughing somewhere, knowing they’ll eventually be found — but only after a full fifteen minutes of panic. 

These extremely annoying little metal minions, which have, over the years, become part and parcel of my life, seem to have signed up for some kind of chaos marathon that makes my old head spin.

 I’m not sure about my extended family, friends, ex pupils or colleagues, and how you circumnavigate this wicked conundrum, but I have two bags of keys in the cupboard, each weighing about two hundred and fifty grams, and each an enigma of mismatched locks and even worse, misplaced memory. 

And who decided that every lock, on every suitcase, should come with three miniature keys on a miniscule key ring? I now have a collection that rivals any hardware store, yet none of these “handy” keys match any suitcase I’ve ever packed. So here I am, rattling bags of keys like a portable percussion instrument, totally flummoxed, but secretly convinced that the keys are plotting their next move.

Believe me - keys are no longer just passive objects; I am convinced that they positively possess evil personalities. They seem to enjoy going missing at the most inconvenient times, hiding in the deepest recesses of miscellaneous bags and often vanishing – never to be united with their mother lock! 

Airports, of course, are their favorite stage. I’ve become a regular attraction at security checks, thanks to my not one, not two, but three sets of keys that I must carry when travelling to my hometown Pune. My wife and I have a full set each, and then we carry one extra set as a backup, in case any of us misplace our original set.  The officials must think I’m running a clandestine locksmith operation or probably something with a more sinister twist. With three sets of “Pune house" keys here, a set of Dubai house keys there, and a few suitcase and carry-on luggage   keys in the mix for good measure, it’s something of a weird key carnival, in my little leather satchel.  

I thought I’d be clever using combination locks with codes to avoid the hassle of keys, and so the last time we travelled, I purchased a few of these ‘life savers! Genius, right? Wrong. I now can’t recall the code numbers I carefully selected. Somehow, a thousand four-digit combinations are stored in my brain, none of which seem to open my locks.

 So now I have those permanently locked combination locks lying around as well. 

In the absurd theater of my life, my keys are the stars of a comedy show, and I’m just the poor audience member stuck at the door, begging for entry

A little over the edge

 Artists, poets, musicians and writers

 are often slightly over the edge.

Did I say slightly ? 

They can be eccentric to a point 

And peculiar to the core 

But that's their life

And they enjoy it .

Their little idiosyncrasies 

Are what makes them tick.

Love them

Or loathe them

But they are on the same journey

As everyone else.

When the beginnings 

And the ends 

Are the same

Stop worrying so much

About  what's in the middle.

A OUR GARDNER

 So his name is..... well let's just say it starts with the letter A.

I first met him when my daughter moved into her new premises and A was the gardener.

Short, of slight build and a million watt smile is how I would describe him. I would also add - rather talkative and a tad boastful of his accomplishments on the gardening front.  Also very simple .

My son in law and daughter seemed wonderstruck after he explained as to what  he had  planned for their garden.

I didn't need any further persuasion and without so much as a little digging into his ' previous work experience' I appointed him too.

To be fair, my daughter and son in law's garden is pretty good.

You can read those last two words together or separately. 

Our little garden is another story. 

It's green; it's clean; and quite tidy.

However here is where my story takes a tiny bend.

Bear with me folks. If you've read till here then you must read on.

A digs when in the mood.

A plants when in the mood

A tends to the garden six days a week

But I don't believe A is a Gardner.

I am laying it bare for you to be the better judge.

If he is a Gardner- then I am an astronout.

He has a large blower with which he keeps the place clean. He spends about 7 minutes from the time he enters till he leaves. 

He hates my brother in law and probably gets irritated when told that he is not doing a good job.

My wife interacts with him more than me. She gives him fruit, biscuits and sweets etc as he looks malnourished. 

My interactions are only to pay him his salary and tell him occasionally that the garden does not look up to the mark. 

Mind you , he doesn't switch off the blower when I talk to him , so I doubt he hears what I am saying , because while I am speaking , he is smiling and nodding.

When I go to pay him , he first pretends not to see me . Then when he does , he makes a sign to say ' put it on the garden table'.

I have threatened all and sundry that I will get rid of him , but that day has not come. A leads a charmed life I guess.

This morning he nearly lost his job.

I saw him entering, so went out to ask him why he hadn't brought the new plants I had asked him to.

I did this before he put on that noisy blower. 

He pointed to some miniscule plants and I almost exploded.

I then reminded him about what I wanted- the same plants he had bought for my daughter. He promised to do so.

Then came the icing on the cake.

He moved towards the tap.  

I couldn't fathom what he was doing .

(It has rained heavily for most of the night)

A connected the pipe and began watering the plants. 

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

I walked out to confront him.

However I didn't have the heart to tell him he was being foolish and just stood transfixed as he watered every plant . 

He gave them an extra dousing to prove to me he was doing his job .

Poor plants.

Poor me

God bless A!

It's URGENT

 Was talking to a colleague the other day when he received a call - he and I were having a casual chat after office hours . His response astounded me . He said " Can I call you back later -  I am in an urgent meeting " 

In today's workplace, it seems every single task has been knighted with the title of "URGENT."

 Need an email response? URGENT! 

Document to fill out? URGENT! 

Quick catch-up meeting? Absolutely, you guessed it: URGENT!

 The sense of urgency is so thick, that I’m half expecting the water cooler to start issuing “urgent hydration” notifications.

Every whatsapp notification also calls for an urgent response lest you be considered " slow to respond" or " not sufficiently motivated" 

But seriously, what in heaven's name is this mad rush all about, and where are we heading ? 

When did we decide that every trivial task must carry the same importance as the launch of a spaceship? Somewhere along the way, “urgent” lost its urgency and became the new “normal.” Suddenly, we’re all running around like headless chickens, fueled by caffeine or whatever else gets us moving ,and the fear of missing out on the latest “urgent” memo.

 What happened to tasks that could simply be “important” or “when you have a moment”- terms which seem outdated in this space age!

The absurdity doesn’t end there. If something isn’t labeled “urgent,” it’s instantly sidelined, ignored, or thrown in a dusty corner of the virtual to-do list. 

So in reality we are all to blame for being tardy! 

 And if you think through this 'urgency syndrome' -  when everything’s top priority, nothing really is. 

We’re no longer making deliberate, well-considered decisions at an appropriate pace; instead, we find ourselves in a constant rush, frantically putting out one fire after another, driven purely by a relentless sense of urgency and the rush of adrenaline

So, what’s left? Is there a single email, meeting, or file out there that dares to be “non-urgent”? 

Perhaps that’s the holy grail of modern office life—a task we can take a deep breath before tackling. But until then, we’ll keep rushing, spinning, and labeling every last detail with urgency, hurtling along in the frantic pace we call progress.

 Or perhaps it's the strange thrill of constantly teetering on the edge, not of excitement or adventure, but of an overwhelming inbox and a never-ending stream of tasks demanding our immediate attention.

Back then, the world moved at a slower, more thoughtful pace, yet things were accomplished with remarkable efficiency and care. Time wasn’t wasted; it was used wisely, with focus and intent. Now, we find ourselves in a constant, frenzied rush, racing from one task to another, juggling endless “urgent” demands. We’re busier than ever, but is more actually getting done? The relentless pace leaves little room for quality, creativity, or even a pause to think. It’s a cycle that feels both absurd and exhausting, where the speed at which we work seems to matter more than the work itself.

Will the third world war be AI generated

 Will the next world war be started by an intentional AI ‘mistake’? 

Is this not in the hands of any one fanatical leader, of which there are quite a few? 

If this thought can come from me – a non-militant, apolitical individual, then surely it has been contemplated by some crafty conmen, warmongering autocrat or reckless authoritarian, many times over. 

An AI generated war has already sparked intense debate across political, technological, and philosophical circles in the recent past and one doesn’t need to be a rocket scientist to realize that it is a very probable possibility in the not-too-distant future. 

AI’s growing influence on military strategy is undeniable. Autonomous weapons, cyber warfare, and AI-driven decision-making in national defense, are transforming how nations view conflict. AI can process vast amounts of data and make decisions much faster than humans, giving countries a significant strategic advantage in military operations. However, this same ability could lead to an escalation of tensions and an unintended conflict. Misinterpretation of AI-driven actions, errors in programming, or even purposeful driven cyber-attacks, could lead to catastrophic outcomes.

One of the alarming possibilities is the rise of authoritarian and fanatical leaders in so many countries, who might sanction or misuse AI technology to provoke an all-out conflict. If a country deploys AI in defense systems or uses autonomous weapons irresponsibly, it might create a situation where human oversight is minimal, leading to irreversible actions. Worse yet, devious leaders could intentionally manipulate AI systems to provoke conflict, and then blame the machines, masking their own aggressive intentions.

The ball may already be rolling in terms of AI’s role in warfare. 

Several nations, including the U.S., China, and Russia, and other smaller countries too, are investing heavily in AI for military purposes. Autonomous drones, surveillance systems, and AI-enhanced cyber defense are already in place. In some ways, the "AI arms race" has already begun, and this can only intensify in the guise of ‘balancing power’ 

A study by the RAND Corporation titled "Artificial Intelligence and the Future of Warfare" has come up with a startling fact - over 35 nations are in the process of developing autonomous military systems, many without ethical guidelines on their use. As the race for AI dominance intensifies, the risk of an AI-triggered conflict becomes more tangible.

The question is whether AI can still be controlled, or whether the proverbial horse has already bolted, considering the fact that the technology is advancing faster than regulations, creating a very dangerous gap.

There is a fear that once AI takes control, human oversight could become less relevant, leading to rapid and uncontrollable escalation. 

The risk of AI-generated disinformation is also growing. AI can be used to create convincing fake videos (deepfakes) or simulate events that could mislead leaders into making irrational decisions, potentially triggering military responses. For example, an AI-fabricated attack video might lead a nation to retaliate against an innocent party, spiraling into full-scale conflict.

There is still time to prevent AI from triggering a global conflict, but it requires immediate and concerted efforts. One approach is to establish clear international regulations on the development and use of AI in warfare but this, as we all know, is easier said than done. Efforts such as banning fully autonomous weapons systems and ensuring human oversight in AI-driven military operations are essential steps, but who will bell the cat? 

Wouldn’t it be nice if all Governments decided to put together an independent ‘anti-war, think tanks’, dedicated solely to preventing conflict. I know this is simpler in theory, but it is a thought, nevertheless. 

 An Anti-war think tank, within a government, could play a crucial role in promoting peace and preventing conflict, by offering expert guidance on diplomatic solutions, conflict prevention, and policy development.

 It would advise on negotiation strategies, identify early signs of potential conflicts, and recommend proactive measures to avoid war at all costs. Additionally, it would be tasked with formulating policies that prioritize dialogue, humanitarian solutions, and international cooperation over military action, while evaluating the ethical and long-term consequences of warfare.

 By raising public awareness and fostering discourse on the costs of war, the think tank would provide non-violent strategies, helping governments focus on sustainable, peaceful resolutions. 

War leaves destruction in its wake, causing immense loss of life, resources, and stability. No nation truly benefits from its devastation, as the costs far outweigh any short-term gains. Preventing wars must be a global priority to ensure peace, security, and prosperity for future generations.

Its never too late to take the first step towards world peace

I am not a handyman

 I am not a Handyman. That being said – let me proceed. 

 Now I am not some lazy jobless oaf – I would like to think that I am talented and doing okay in life. It is just that when you put me into situations that require a certain skill set, I just back away and leave it to the “so-called” professionals. 

Am I embarrassed about it?  No way! In fact, I am smiling while keying in this article with two fingers on my trusted keyboard. 

So let me start at the beginning and paint the picture. 

I remember attending “Craft” classes in school. We had a great teacher, a large craft laboratory and plenty of tools. We were all made to purchase a piece of wood from school – two square feet in size and about three quarters of an inch thick. Not too sure, what we had to make but one thing is definite – I made nothing. Period after period I used a file and kept filing the piece of wood on all four sides. The year ended and my piece of wood was reduced to half its size. It was glossy and smooth but that is it. 

Many of my classmates’ excelled in carpentry. Words like Chalk line, Framing Square, chisel, claw hammer, pliers and nail gun were used frequently. Then there were screws & nails of varied length and thickness, wooden plugs of various sizes, sand paper of various grades & glossy varnish.

 During the final week before the exhibition, there was frantic work all around. Soon some pupils had produced small bookshelves; others had created beautiful boxes and a few elegant corner stands on which something known as a fret saw had been used for carving. I admired their skill and dexterity.

On the day we were called upon to display what we had made, I absented myself for obvious reasons! Not too sure if I was conspicuous by my absence or even if, they displayed my well-filed piece of wood.  I never ever found it! Even today, carpentry is anathema to me. I must add that I have painted a few doors and windows at home but did not do a very good job. The less said about assembling anything from Ikea- the better!

Then there is sound and light – both of which I know precious little about. I love music and played in a band for a number of years but someone else always did all the connections.   Some people in the world love tinkering and are good at it. I am not . 

Give them an iron that over heats   a washing machine that has a water filling problem ,  a fridge with a fused bulb  ,  mixers or a toasters that do  not work,  a music system where one speaker is louder than the other, a fan where the blades refuse to turn or a television that is blinking  and they are in their elements. 

Here is a scene, which I have been a part of quite often. Something is not working in the house and I am on the verge of exasperation – then Mr. Handyman walks in at the opportune moment - the saviour to the rescue!

The moment you tell these people that  something is not working and you want it to be repaired ,  their  eyes light up and in the same breath they  ask – like they always do- for my  toolbox. 

Okay let me put it out there – I do not possess a tool box- I never have - I do not need one for goodness sake. Last Christmas I almost bought one but then better sense prevailed. 

I do possess a hammer and a few screwdrivers in some draw or the other but I can never find them when most needed.  If you know repair people, you will understand that they can manage very well without toolboxes. They are usually carrying a mini screwdriver and a tester on their key ring & they can, within minutes, have any item open. 

They then proceed to stare at the innards and hum a tune while doing so and I stare too, just willing the item to function as normal   again . They then get to work – ripping wire with their teeth, loosening and tightening screws, blowing and removing the dust. From time to time, I am asked to produce or just hold on to screws, nails, wire, a fuse, a circuit or some other part and I do so willingly. I look on in admiration 

The guy looks as if he knows what he is doing- very confident indeed.  The biggest joke is that there is a running commentary on what is wrong, how it is a minor glitch and how it is being repaired, most of which I do not understand. 

I do keep my fingers crossed because there are some who are over confident. They open the item and cannot put it back together again.  

However usually, depending on the condition of the damaged item, it is soon repaired & ready to be tested. Now if you pay close attention to these people you will observe that they always insist on testing these electric items with the electric switch on! I consider this uncalled for either bravado or downright insanity. 

They poke and prod with the tester and at times, sparks fly but it bothers them in the least. I must add here , that on a few occasions I have tried using a tester to see if there was a leak in current and I have received quite a bad shock. I have worn rubber slippers, stood on a rubber mat and been as careful as possible, in vain.

Vehicles are another pain. Luckily, in Dubai, we hardly have breakdowns but if we did, I would be at a loss as to what had to be done. Yes, you guessed it right. I cannot change a tire or repair anything that may go wrong under the bonnet. Do not ask me about the number of cylinders, the combustion chamber, the piston rings, the gear lever, the vibration damper, the crankshaft or the bearings. Someone once showed me how to fill air in the tire and I think I would manage that if push comes to shove. I drive fairly well and that is good enough for me. 

I could go on but then this article would show me in poorer light than it already is doing, so I will end here. 

There is a well-known saying, “If you want something fixed well, then do it yourself”. I guess it was written for people other than me!

What is our purpose

 Purpose. A simple word with profound implications.

 What is it that compels us to rise each morning, strive for something – anything - more than the mere act of existence? This question about purpose has occupied the minds of philosophers, and ordinary individuals since the dawn of human consciousness. Some have found clear answers, while others continue to grapple with the idea, unsure whether the quest for purpose is even necessary! We are living, aren’t we? 

At the heart of this inquiry, lies the diversity of answers that individuals may offer, when asked about their “purpose”. For some, the response is immediate and crystal clear: wealth, success, fame, recognition. For others, purpose is more elusive, a concept that shifts with time and circumstance. What follows is a reflection on the possible dimensions of purpose, not as a definitive answer, but as an exploration of the ways in which people approach this perennial question.

For many, the notion of purpose is closely tied to material gain and success. Wealth, after all, provides access to a multitude of opportunities: comfort, security, stability and the ability to indulge in some or all of  life's luxuries. The pursuit of wealth is often seen as the route to freedom—to do what you want, when you want, and without being constrained by the limits of financial resources. Success, too, often carries the connotation of respect, recognition, and a certain social status that signifies you’ve “finally made it.” But does the accumulation of wealth and success truly equate to purpose, or is it merely a means to an end?

The question arises: is there something more? Is the pursuit of success hollow, if it’s not accompanied by deeper meaning?

Recognition, like wealth, is another common motivator for those searching for purpose. To be acknowledged for one's talents and efforts, to be seen and valued—this validation can offer a profound sense of worth. For many, it is not enough to succeed privately; they crave the public acknowledgment that comes with accolades, awards, and praise. This needs to be seen, can often intersect with the desire for love.

There are those for whom purpose is deeply spiritual. To live a life aligned with the teachings of a higher power—whether it be God, the universe, or a metaphysical principle—provides a moral compass and a sense of divine purpose. For them, purpose is not rooted in material success or social recognition but in humility, empathy, love, kindness, and faith. Their life is not a race to the top but a steady walk toward enlightenment or salvation. 

For a large majority, it is a mixture of all the above-  and then some more 

For others, the notion of purpose is far less grandiose. Why must there be a singular purpose? Why can’t life simply be lived and enjoyed?

 Perhaps our purpose is not something to be achieved, but something to be experienced moment by moment, breath by breath. 

This approach to life removes the pressure to constantly be more, achieve more, or do more. It suggests that we are enough as we are, and that perhaps the only true purpose is to experience the world in its fullness without the burden of expectations. We can finally get off the Ferris wheel.

But must one have a purpose at all? The idea that every individual needs a clear, well- defined purpose, can sometimes feel overwhelming, even unnecessary, to make sense of an otherwise chaotic existence. To exist without purpose is not to exist in vain; it’s merely to exist, and for some, that is enough.

The search for purpose is a deep human endeavor. It may be a question without a definitive answer, but perhaps the value lies in the search itself—the ongoing reflection, the continuous striving, and the understanding that life’s purpose may not be singular or fixed, but as fluid as life itself.

In the words of the philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”

 Purpose, like life, may not always be clear in the present moment, but it reveals itself over time, through our experiences, choices, and reflections.

What success means to me

 Success is a word that holds different meanings for different people. For some, it's wealth; for others, it's fame or personal satisfaction while for some it may just be a good hair day! It’s the culmination of small victories, overcoming challenges, and continually pushing the boundaries of what you thought was possible. It’s not about titles or accolades, though they may come along the way. True success is about the legacy you leave behind, the people you inspire, and the value you add to the world- and I guess that’s what counts in the end. 

For me, success has always been about growth, impact, and trying to lead a fun yet meaningful life where I can inspire others to be their best. It’s often been about some form of Leadership - about making a difference in the lives of students, staff, and the educational communities I’ve been privileged to serve over the last forty odd years. To me, success has never been a destination, but a journey and I am still soldiering on. 

Success is certainly important, because it motivates us to strive for excellence. It challenges us to keep moving forward, even in the face of adversity. Without success as a goal, we’d be content with mediocrity. For me, success has always been about the responsibility of leadership, the opportunity to elevate others, raise standards, and create environments where learning and personal growth thrive. It gives purpose to the work I do every day.

My journey has not been without its fair share of challenges.

 One of the most difficult decisions I was forced to make early in my career was leaving my mother and moving to Pune to join The Bishop’s School, as a young teacher. It was heartbreaking, as she was a single parent, but it had to be done and all credit to her – she was behind my decision every step of the way. Without her encouragement I would have been nowhere. I was apprehensive about stepping into the unknown, entering a new place, new job, and taking on new responsibilities. It was a defining moment— but one that would shape my future in more ways, than I could ever have imagined.

In my years at The Bishop’s School, I took on a multitude of roles: Class Teacher, Dormitory In-charge, Housemaster, Boarding Superintendent, Headmaster, and more. I wasn’t just teaching; I was involved in everything from Badminton and Volleyball to editing the school magazine, overseeing Elocution, Drama and Debating competitions, managing supplies and orders, and running academic and exam programs for about three thousand boys. It was an immersive experience, and it taught me the value of versatility, hard work, and perseverance. It was in Bishops, that I learnt the basics of Leadership. 

I had the wonderful opportunity to work alongside umpteen stalwarts and legends and learnt so much from them. In retrospect, there are umpteen decisions I could and should have taken differently & things I could have done better, but one matures and learns!  

Despite my commitment and success in these roles, I faced a major disappointment when I was overlooked for the position of Principal. It hurt, no doubt, but success isn’t always about wins. It’s about how you handle the setbacks. I could have wallowed in self-pity, but instead, I decided to take it as a learning experience. This mindset opened new doors for me. In hindsight – I thank those who overlooked me! Everything happens for the best.  

When I applied to join GEMS Education in the UAE, I had no idea that this move would change the trajectory of my career. I was interviewed by the Chairman – Sunny Varkey and that is another story in itself – what an amazing man. Empathetic, approachable, ethical and visionary. 

 Once again, I found myself in a new place, this time as the Headmaster at The Modern High School-Dubai- one of the premier educational institutions in the UAE. My work there, inspired a lot by what I learnt at Bishops, led to a promotion, and I was given the opportunity to become the Principal of The Millennium School in Dubai. This was another pivotal moment in my career, as I helped the school grow in numbers and reputation, raised academic and cocurricular standards, and guided it to a "Very Good" rating in school inspections. I had a great team who assisted and advised me in so many ways. 

Over the course of 12 years, we achieved remarkable success—not just in academics but in co-curricular activities, sports, and parental satisfaction. We became the go-to school - always over-enrolled and consistently improving across every metric. Being involved in the opening of two more Millennium Schools was a challenge I embraced with enthusiasm.

After 12 years of leadership at Millennium, I was promoted to Vice President of Education at GEMS and eventually Senior Vice President, overseeing the largest cluster of schools. Today, I am responsible for almost 40,000 pupils and over 2,500 staff members. The schools in my cluster are led by brilliant Principals and they all under promise and over deliver. They excel in every aspect—academics, wellbeing, health and safety, inclusivity, co-curricular activities, parental satisfaction surveys, and even in financial performance. We consistently lead in sports, academic competitions, and community involvement and we are always oversubscribed!

But what makes all this meaningful is not just the numbers or rankings. It's knowing that, along with colleagues, I’ve played a part in shaping the future of so many young minds, nurturing the talents of teachers, and contributing to a system of education that prioritizes excellence without losing sight of the individual.

If you ask me what attributes have helped me succeed, my answer is simple: I’ve always believed in PRAYER, in hard work, being humble, being decisive, empowering others, being optimistic   and keeping things simple. I don’t believe in overcomplicating matters. My approach has always been to tackle challenges head-on, be straightforward, and ensure that trust, kindness and empathy guide my decisions. 

One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned is not to interfere in others’ work and not to let others interfere in mine. This mutual respect for personal and professional space allows people to flourish.

Of course, while striving for success, you also must remember to laugh along the way. There were moments, especially during those early years, managing large classrooms & dormitories full of energetic boys, whose only intentions seemed to be to dodge class, cause a nuisance or slip out at night —where I questioned my sanity! But humor is the antidote to stress, and in education, there’s never a shortage of moments that remind you to keep things light.

My journey in Education continues – it has been long, filled with both triumphs and challenges, but it’s one that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Success, to me, has always been about more than personal achievement. It’s about the impact you make, the people you uplift, and the legacy you leave behind. 

And if there’s one piece of advice, I’d leave you with, it’s this: Work hard, stay humble, and don’t forget to enjoy the ride.

Another tryst by the lake

 I have been chased by ducks, a Swan, Cockbirds and had crows and mynahs swoop down on me during my walks around the lake near where I reside. 

There are large dogs  ,usually on leashes and I give them a wide berth. When I see them approaching I move on to the grass because more often than not, the maid walking them is on her phone and she would hardly notice if the dog scratched or bit me. Hence my policy with these alsations and hounds has been " stay far".

However, here is a bit of advice for people who go for walks near residential areas.

I have found that the large dogs - more often than- are non interfering and pretty docile. They pass by - they sniff the air at times, look away nonchalantly and go about their business. 

It's the small ones that are dangerous.  They look tiny and cute and oh so loveable. Beware of tiny cuteness coz it's deceiving.

Over the last few weeks I have passed by  Chihuahuas  , poodles , pomeranians, Maltese and Yorkshire terriers and have noticed that the tinier and cuter the dog- the more sly and aggressive it is.

They are ever ready to snarl, bark, scratch  ,attack and bite as well.

People say its a survival technique and they do it because they are scared. I tend to disagree .

So here I was last evening, out for a brisk walk. I had Teddy Swims on the headphones and was strutting manfully.

I passed large dogs and at times I thought that they smiled at me!

Then out of nowhere I saw two little ones come around the bend. Mind you , they were on long leashes . As expected  ,their minder lady was in a world of her own  , busy chatting on her phone. 

As they passed me , one little rascal decided it was time to show who was , Boss of the sideway.

He darted in my direction and went straight for my ankles. The maid was jerked out of her reverie and screamed.  I tried to kick and side step at the same time. 

The scream  , the attempted kick and my agile side stepping worked , and the little devil backed off whimpering like he was the aggrieved party. 

An elderly couple who were passing by tut tutted in anger . They probably thought I had done something to the dog.

It was dusk, they were about 10 meters away and probably had the onset of cataract but they muttered and looked angrily at me. 

I sniggered in disbelief at the careless maid, the nasty dog and that conceited looking couple. 

I then made my way home to live another day.

Goodbye Mr Ratan Tata

 Today, while we mourn the loss of a remarkable man we also celebrate a life that left an indelible mark on millions, transcending boundaries of industry, nation, and humanity.

Mr. Ratan Tata, a name synonymous with integrity, vision, and compassion, has left us—but his legacy will continue to inspire generations to come.

Ratan Tata was not merely an industrialist; he was a visionary leader who reshaped India's corporate landscape. Under his stewardship, the Tata Group grew from a national conglomerate into a global powerhouse, with operations spanning over six continents & 100 countries. But numbers and accolades tell only a fraction of the story.

What truly set him apart was his unwavering commitment to doing business with a heart- he truly was a man in a million. He believed that a company’s true value lay not just in spread sheets & profits, but in its impact on people’s lives. He built schools, hospitals, and institutions that have touched countless souls, and his philanthropic initiatives are woven into the fabric of Indian society.

A man of few words but profound actions, Mr. Tata led by example. His humility, despite his towering achievements, endeared him to people from all walks of life. Whether it was the creation of the world’s most affordable car, the Tata Nano, or his generous support to disaster relief efforts, Ratan Tata’s mission was always clear: to serve humanity while remaining low key.

In an age where many prioritize personal gain, he reminded us that wealth and power come with duty & responsibility. Even in the face of adversity, he remained calm, focused, and compassionate—a true statesman of industry and society.

One of the most well-known and touching anecdotes about Ratan Tata is his personal involvement with the families affected by the 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks. After the tragic events in November 2008, when terrorists attacked multiple locations in Mumbai, including the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, which is owned by the Tata Group, Ratan Tata went far beyond what most corporate leaders would have done.

Instead of merely focusing on the financial losses or repairing the hotel, Mr. Tata personally visited the families of all the victims, including not only the guests and high-ranking employees but also the vendors, security personnel, and even small-time workers like flower sellers who had been affected by the tragedy. He ensured that all these individuals were taken care of, both financially and emotionally.

But beyond the boardrooms and business headlines, Ratan Tata was a deeply loving & compassionate soul. His quiet acts of charity, his care for his employees, and his dedication to causes that uplift the underserved, showed the depth of his empathy. He gave voice to those who had none and always extended a helping hand to those in need. He was a leader who understood that real power lies in making life better for others.

Today, the world bids goodbye to a legend. But even as people, and especially his family and loved ones, grieve, we must remember that Ratan Tata's life was a gift to the world. His principles, his kindness, and his vision for a better world will continue to light our path.

“His life was gentle; and the elements

So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up

And say to all the world, THIS WAS A MAN!”

― William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Rest in peace, Mr. Tata. You may have left this world, but you will always live on in our hearts and in the legacy, you leave behind.

Like

Comment

Send

Share

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Facebook

Chris Gaynor