My cup, my tea, my lips

 I have come to the conclusion that although we talk about our morning tea there are so many other things to consider.......

The type of water used

The way you boil it and for exactly how long.

The tea leaves you use

The amount, quantity  and qualiy of milk

The time spent on soaking the leaves in the boiled water

The amout of sugar if any.

There is one more......

The feel of the cup or mug in your hand and more so when the porcelain touches your lips.

I have had favourite mugs over the years and have always made my own tea with the same tea leaves and in the exact way.

I once put up a picture of my mug( the last one) and there were some vague comments. 

Some said it was too small while one also remarked that the colour was not manly! 

Well I loved it and used it well. Believe it or not, it travelled with me as I hate the gigantic mugs and cups that hotels provide  .

Some colleagues  will know that I also carry my own tea bags.

Anyway , a few days ago I woke as usual to make my tea.

Strangely the mug was missing. 

I searched rather frantically - in vain.

Rather hessitatingly I was forced to use a porcelain cup. No, not a cup and saucer - just a cup. And it has flowers on it! 

When my wife woke, she was greeted by " where's my mug"

In a rather smug fashion she made the grand announcement- " I've thrown it out".

I could have burst a vein- like a kid whose told that his favourite toy has been pitched into the bin.

However better sense prevailed.

Her explanation was valid.

One or two years of use and scrubbing had made the mug a trifle unfit for use.

No it was not chipped or cracked or anything, but it was discoloured inside.

My new cup on the other hand is sparkling and coming to think of it - the size is perfect and it feels good to the lips.

So it's out with the old and in with the new.

The cup does look a bit effeminate but who cares. 

It's now officially one of my new favourite possessions. 

My cup- my tea- my lips.

The old photo albums

 This morning, I happened to hurriedly flip through an old photo album, and it was a deeply nostalgic experience. Pictures of me as a child, my daughters, granddaughters, wedding memories, old family gatherings, picnics, parties, and other happy occasions came flooding back. 

There were snaps of my childhood in Allahabad, me playing in the band, and even some of my early years as a young teacher in Pune.

 This particular album seemed to be a collection of leftover photographs spanning nearly fifty years of my life.

 We have numerous such albums stored here in Dubai and back in Pune, and each time I come across one, I find myself transported, spending hours reliving those precious moments.

There’s a unique nostalgia tied to these memories—a reminder of simpler times when capturing moments was a deliberate effort.

 With the old film cameras, we could take only about eight photos on a reel, and some would inevitably be ruined during development. 

Those imperfect but heartfelt photos hold a charm that digital images often lack.

 Today, that’s a thing of the past, but the fondness for those tangible memories remains.

However, not all albums have stood the test of time. Some pages have yellowed with age, others have suffered from dampness, and a few photos have even gone missing. Yet, despite their imperfections, these albums are priceless treasures.

Today, technology has revolutionized the way we capture and store memories. Digital photos are sharper, clearer, and no longer require the hassle of film development. They’re easily accessible at the touch of a button, and most people no longer need a professional camera to take stunning pictures—a smartphone does the job. Yet, this convenience comes with its drawbacks. 

Unlike physical albums, digital photos can be lost when phones are changed or data is not backed up properly.

While technology offers incredible advantages, there’s an irreplaceable charm in holding a physical album, flipping through its pages, and reliving moments that feel as though they happened just yesterday. 

Times have changed, but the magic of those old albums remains timeless.

Any of you miss those old fashioned albums?

In pursuit of happiness

 IN PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS 

In today's fast-paced world, it’s easy to get caught up in the idea that we are living our best lives and that those who went before us merely existed in a rather dull and uninspiring way.

 We’re told that “fun – in – the – sun” and “enjoyment” are the ultimate goals, and that success means maximizing our personal pleasure, often through experiences or material possessions. In reality- nothing is further from the truth!

We live in an age where constant social media updates and curated images of our lives and those of others shape our understanding of what “living fully” means. 

Have we ever stopped to wonder if we’re achieving the fulfillment we so desperately seek?

When we think of the concept of "progress," it's often equated with achievements—whether that’s in our careers, personal milestones, or the accumulation of things. We feel pressured to work harder, stay constantly connected, and acquire more. But is this truly progress, or are we simply chasing fleeting moments that give us temporary satisfaction while missing the bigger picture?

Many of the things we do in the name of fun or progress, like attending social events we don’t really enjoy, being extra nice to people we don’t really care about, buying things we don’t need, or constantly pushing ourselves to achieve goals that don’t align with our true values—are essentially distractions. We often chase after things that we think will make us happy, only to realize that satisfaction is short-lived. Something always seems to be missing

Consider social media, for example. We scroll endlessly through curated versions of other people's lives, fully convinced that we're missing out on the best things in life or not measuring up - this affects our own mental well-being. The pressure to maintain a certain image, to be constantly entertained, or to follow the latest trends, is leading to burnout, stress, and a sense of disconnection from what truly matters in life.

Progress, in its truest sense, does not lie in the external markers of success, but rather in personal growth—cultivating genuine relationships, being present, nurturing creativity, and finding meaning in our work and interactions. In our quest for enjoyment and fun, we risk overlooking what truly nourishes the soul and contributes to long-term fulfillment.

In a world that sadly prioritizes instant gratification, it’s so crucial to pause and reflect: Are we really enjoying life, or are we just going through the motions, chasing after the next thing to keep us entertained or in the limelight?

A background legend

 Bucket List: Tick – I’m an Actor (Sort Of)

Over the weekend, driving down Sheikh Zayed Road in Dubai—a glorious stretch of asphalt slicing through towering skyscrapers, all shimmering like a mirage in the desert sun—I had what can only be described as a brush with stardom. It was early morning, and traffic was blissfully light. Suddenly, a large van overtook me, bristling with cameras hanging precariously from the back. Intrigued, I kept pace, only to notice a sleek white Mercedes cruising alongside me.

The plot thickened as a glamorous lady in the back seat peeked out of her window, her gaze momentarily locking onto my white 4x4. And then—wait for it—she waved or pointed in my direction! As if on cue, the camera shifted toward me. I smiled. Yes, the smile. My moment had arrived. The camera then panned up toward the towering buildings and back to the Mercedes, but in my heart, I knew the scene’s real star had just been revealed.

Was I an extra in a blockbuster? Perhaps a Bollywood epic or a Tollywood drama? Or maybe I’ve been immortalized in a Netflix series. Who knows? No credits, no paycheck, but let’s not get bogged down by details. I can now officially declare: I’ve appeared in a movie—or at least near one being filmed.

So, the next time you’re watching something featuring Dubai’s iconic Sheikh Zayed Road, keep your eyes peeled for a white 4x4 and a fleeting moment of cinematic magic. That’s me—your uncredited, unpaid,  background legend. 

You may joke all you want about me being a one - take- wonder or a blink - and - miss performer but me and my car  were there .

Presentations

 

Has anyone else noticed that the over-reliance on presentations in meetings has become excessive, often overshadowing genuine conversation and decision-making?

Meetings that once focused on open discussions and actionable outcomes, are now dominated by meticulously crafted slideshows. While technology enhances communication, it often distracts from the core purpose of collaboration.

In the past, meetings thrived on clarity of thought and effective articulation without the crutch of elaborate visuals. Today, however, presentations are seen as symbols of professionalism, leading to a culture where showing up without slides feels like turning up without pants. This mindset has made presentations more about appearance than necessity, often diluting the substance of the message.

Slides frequently become a fallback for presenters, and while they do help them stay on track, they tend to stifle spontaneity and engagement. Worse, the abundance of unnecessary graphs and convoluted data tables often leaves audiences bewildered. It’s not uncommon to encounter slides packed with color-coded spaghetti lines and pie charts that seem to have been created by someone playing "Data Art" rather than explaining anything. Sometimes, even the presenter looks as though they’re discovering the slides for the first time, adding to the general confusion.

The heavy dependence on technology shifts attention away from meaningful dialogue. Discussions take a backseat, and the human element of collaboration gets lost. While visuals can enhance understanding, their overuse often creates clutter rather than clarity.

Not every meeting requires a presentation. Clear, concise discussions can achieve the same objectives, often with better results. By prioritizing connection, clarity, and action over the perfection of slides, meetings can regain their focus.

Perhaps it’s time to put those overachieving pie charts on a diet and admit that sometimes, the most professional thing you can bring to a meeting is a good idea and a bit of common sense.

 

 

Pupils of today

 

I was at a public speaking competition , in one of the schools in my cluster today , and the eloquence, confidence and thought process of the participants literally blew me away. This got me thinking.

Pupils today- the Gen Alpha generation, are undeniably ahead of their time. Reflecting on my four decades in education, I’ve had the privilege of attending countless functions and events where I’ve observed a remarkable transformation in pupils over the years. Compared to the past, today’s pupils are notably more composed, deeply insightful, extremely confident, and acutely aware of the world around them.

This is not to say that pupils I taught 40 years ago were lacking in any way – but times have changed, and the world is moving in fast forward.

This evolution can be attributed to several factors. Schools, where children spend a significant portion of their formative years, undoubtedly play a crucial role. The structured environment, diverse curricula, and focus on extracurricular activities help nurture essential soft skills like communication, collaboration, adaptability, and problem-solving. Beyond schools, societal influences and the pervasive impact of social media have expanded children’s horizons. They are exposed to diverse perspectives, current global events, and a wealth of information at the click of a button.

Moreover, increased travel opportunities and the encouragement to explore different cultures have instilled independence and a broader worldview in today’s pupils. They are encouraged to read widely, research deeply, and articulate their thoughts clearly, contributing to their eloquence and self-assurance. This generation’s readiness to take on the world is inspiring and heartwarming.

Pupils today exhibit a range of qualities that clearly demonstrate they are well ahead of their time. They communicate ideas with clarity and poise, are well informed about global issues like climate change and human rights and analyze challenges critically to propose innovative solutions. Their technological proficiency, independence, adaptability, and cultural competence are remarkable. They work effectively in teams, often stepping into leadership roles, and embrace creativity with enthusiasm. These qualities, combined with their readiness to navigate an evolving world, make them a generation poised to shape the future with confidence and purpose.

The honing of soft skills is pivotal in this journey. At home, children learn love, empathy, resilience, and the value of relationships. In schools, they master teamwork, leadership, time management and critical thinking. Society further shapes them by emphasizing the importance of adaptability and global citizenship. Modern technology plays an integral part, serving as both a tool and a platform for learning, creativity, and innovation.

As the world continues to evolve, so do the opportunities and challenges for today’s youth. Their ability to navigate this dynamic landscape, equipped with a well-rounded skill set and an optimistic outlook, is a testament to their potential.

Indeed, they are a generation ready to shape the future with confidence and purpose.

 

Will a ceasefire actually work

 Can true peace emerge from a brokered ceasefire in the Israel-Gaza conflict?

 I pray with all my heart, it does, but I doubt it will. I do hope I am proved wrong . 

A ceasefire, while critical to stopping immediate bloodshed and more unnecessary suffering, which has been tremendous to say the least, is, at the very best, purely a temporary measure. There are wider ramifications & true peace in this context requires the immediate addressing of innumerable deep-seated issues, which include historical grievances, political rights, security concerns, and deeply entrenched mistrust on both sides. 

Unfortunately, this is easier said than done. 

The conflict isn't just territorial as people often make it out to be ; it's also deeply personal and emotional, tied to identity, survival, religion and history. For peace to be lasting, several key steps are necessary

First and foremost is the acknowledgment of suffering: Both sides need to reflect & recognize the pain, suffering and losses endured by each other. Without empathy, it’s hard to build trust. We are  yet to see that happening 

Secondly and of equal importance is the fact that there must be a just resolution that considers the aspirations of both Israelis and Palestinians. This is of paramount importance, whether it's a two-state solution, shared governance, or another innovative model, worked out by the powers that be.

While International Mediation is certainly helpful, the mediators must be impartial, unbiased and detached. With everyone being so politically motivated this is a big ask. Only then will they be able to facilitate dialogue, ensuring both sides feel heard and represented.

We must not forget that the biggest sufferers in wars are not leaders but ordinary people, who are crying out for peace – for channels to connect, break stereotypes, and build relationships. Sustained peace is only possible if people themselves desire it.

Finally, we must not forget Economic Stability: Many conflicts are exacerbated by poverty and lack of opportunity. A comprehensive peace plan would need to ensure security and prosperity for all affected. The damage is colossal and funds will be crucial. Where is this going to come from and at what price? We all know there are no free dinners.

The challenge lies in breaking cycles of violence and retaliation, as well as dismantling narratives that dehumanize the "other." Without addressing the root causes of the conflict and creating a framework for mutual respect, a ceasefire will only serve as a pause in the violence, not a foundation for peace.

I am not a political pundit, just a practical individual who believes in the power of peace, knowing it fosters unity, progress, and a better future globally.

Between letting go and holding on

 “Between letting go and holding on” 

Life feels fleeting, moments drift by,

A constant shift that often feel overwhelming.

Yet within this impermanence, beauty blooms—

A gentle reminder to cherish the now

Which will not return

Once it passes 

The present, vast and clear,

Releases me from fear of what’s yet to come,

And eases the weight of what’s left behind.

Through mindfulness, I find simple joys,

Gratitude rising from the ordinary.

The loss of those I love

Carves deep into my heart,

Yet even sorrow teaches me

To hold tightly to connection.

It reminds me to reach, to love,

For life’s fragility is shared by all.

True peace resides in what I hold,

And in the courage to let go

Of what cannot be kept.

In balance, I find freedom—

To live with purpose,

To love with open heart,

And flow with life’s swift, ever-changing course.

"Let yourself be silently drawn

by the strange pull of what you really love.

It will not lead you astray."

Memories of Allahabad

 Today there was a longing - a very sudden urge

deep within me 

To take a walk – a nostalgic walk 

On an avenue, of the Railway quarters 

In my hometown- Allahabad.

Instantly I was transported back home 

And there I was – a young boy again

Revisiting his roots.

Those narrow, enchanting, tree lined avenues 

Predominantly ‘neem’, ‘gulmohar’ and the occasional ‘pepul’

Where I played as a boy.

It was ‘121 Traffic Quarters- third avenue’

The address has a nice ring to it, even now.

The home where I was born and raised.

Those old Railway houses – Colour washed, once a year

 Double- storied, simple square blocks

with gardens at the side, front and back.

Where flowers bloomed & vegetables were grown

 And chickens were often reared.

They laid their eggs in the hedges around the house 

And I went and collected them every morning

A chore I loved – often there were six!

There were dogs too and we had one 

 some aggressive  ones that bit-

 others whose ferocious bark was sufficient to scare you away.

The hedges were low and stunted – if any at all 

Usually bushy and green with the occasional bougainvillea

Chameleons and butterflies aplenty.

Barriers and walls were a rarity back then 

If it was yours – it was mine too

The jamun, plumb and guava trees

tempted all and sundry- we picked and plucked at will. 

We were shouted at occasionally

if caught in the act – but nothing serious or of any consequence 

hence, we did it repeatedly& with impunity. 

I vividly recall 

Vegetable and fruit sellers with their carts

Shouting out the various prices while cutting through 

the narrow lanes. 

 Peanut vendors, ‘Fatty’ - the butcher, the old man with his Ice cream cart,

 ‘Bushy’, the baker, with bread, tasty patties and biscuits 

In his tin box on the carrier of his bicycle – and the bell!

The ‘box man’ with trinkets and other knick-knacks for sale,

 ‘Kallu the kabari’ with his raucous laughter 

Who knew everyone by name- he loved to gossip.

Not to forget ‘Smiler’, the toothy cloth merchant 

With his bag of fancy material for Christmas dresses and shirts. 

These were all regulars I can never forget.

All residents had household helpers who cooked and cleaned 

Everyone was either ‘baba, baby, saheb or mem- saheb’

The older adults were ‘Bara- Saheb and Bara Mem-saheb’

Many stayed in small quarters at the back of the houses

 

 Everyone sat out in winter

Lunch in the shade of the moringa tree was so nice

Although I detested the curry with drumsticks !

 

 Eating peanuts and having tea at four!

It got chilly by five – and the adults went in to freshen up 

For the evening – no TV back then – just chit- chatting!

Visitors dropped in unannounced 

Simple friendly people and oh so many of us kids 

Seemingly more boys than girls whose only ambition in life

Was to play!

The avenues were put to good use

by rickshaws pullers, cyclists, pedestrians 

a few scooterists, motorcyclists and the rare car 

Who took this short cut to the Civil Lines.

We however put it to greater use

  And played cricket, football, kings , seven tiles 

And “gulli danda’’ as well

Oh, those endlessly long, fun filled afternoons

Where, caste, colour, creed or religion 

Had no bearing.

The burning of the ‘holkar’, the playing of ‘Holi’

The Eid and Christmas celebrations 

We enjoyed them all.

The avenue lights came on at dusk

Thinking back now – they were rather dim. 

Many were covered by creepers

 that had crept up the long pole- they dimmed the lights at times

“I spy” rang out from various corners, in the late evening 

And the shrieking and shouting continued till around eight

With us charging around in groups and having a blast

Before one knew it, it was eight or somewhere around that time

When the unwritten rule said- ‘get home’ for dinner.

Uncomplicated pastimes, kindred spirits, simple pleasures, great friendships

“Those were the days my friend”

Leading with purpose

 "Leadership is not about being in charge. It is about taking care of those in your charge." – Simon Sinek.

Over the past two years I have been running a Leadership training course for aspiring GEMS leaders and some very pertinent and thought provoking discussions have taken place .

As leaders, we face challenges every day, from making tough decisions to inspiring teams to reach their potential. 

But beneath the surface, subtle dynamics like the Dilbert Principle, Peter Principle, and Impostor Syndrome often shape our leadership journey in ways we may not fully realize. 

These concepts, though not always familiar to everyone, have a profound impact on how we lead and grow.

The Dilbert Principle humorously suggests that organizations  sometimes promote less competent employees into leadership to limit the damage they might cause elsewhere. While this might sound like a joke, it highlights a real issue: the need to ensure leadership roles are filled by those with vision, empathy, and capability—not just anyone available.

The Peter Principle adds another layer, reminding us that people are often promoted until they reach a role they can’t handle. Think about times when a brilliant individual contributor became a struggling manager. To avoid this trap, we must invest in leadership training and recognize that growth isn’t just about climbing the ladder, it’s about finding the right fit.

Then there’s the probably  lesser understood  Impostor Syndrome-  something many of us have felt at some point or the other . Imposter syndrome stems from self-doubt, perfectionism, fear of failure, or external pressure. 

It causes undue anxiety, stress, low self-esteem, and a persistent fear of being exposed as a fraud, despite evident success, thus  hindering personal growth and professional confidence.

That nagging doubt: “Am I really good enough to be here?” 

It’s a silent struggle, but acknowledging it is the first step. Building self-belief and surrounding ourselves with mentors and supportive teams can make all the difference.

Leadership, at its core, is about self-belief and the courage to bring out the best in others. It’s about embracing vulnerability and recognizing that perfection isn’t the goal—authenticity is.

 A good leader inspires, not by always having the answers but by showing others that they, too, can rise above challenges. 

When we understand and address these principles, we empower ourselves and our teams to grow, thrive, and create a culture of trust, resilience, and shared success.

 Leadership isn’t just a role; it’s a responsibility to foster growth, inspire confidence, and leave a lasting, positive impact.

Confessions of a not so great traveler

 Confessions of a Not-So-Great Traveler

It’s confirmed: I’m a terrible traveler. Okay - let me not be too harsh on my poor self- I am not a very good traveler, and I am too old to change now – so be it! 

 The chaos begins with booking tickets, where I spend far too much time triple checking my passport details, than I do, deciding on other important aspects. One typo, and I’m convinced I’ll be detained at immigration and will probably have to return home. Seat selection? Non-negotiable. I am ready to pay.  As a claustrophobe, the aisle seat is my lifeline; I need the illusion of escape, even if it’s just to stretch my legs.

Then comes the Packing, which is an Olympic sport in our family. I weigh and re-weigh suitcases & bags a dozen times, like my entire trip depends on it (which, frankly, it does). My wife, however, treats packing as a philanthropic mission. “This is for family members, this for the neighbours,” she says.  I fret while calculating how many extra kilos we’ll be charged for. We argue over packing and the weight of our luggage every time we travel, and my blood pressure surely rises – she wins in the end – wives always do. We invariably end up carrying coal to Newcastle and I have never understood why. Once the luggage is weighed for the nth time, I lock it, in fear of more articles being slipped in – invariably that ruse fails, and I am forced to open it to add in a towel, a tissue box, more shoes or whatever else the wife feels we will find nowhere else on this planet. And I won’t even start to mention those miniscule locks and even tinier keys that mysteriously disappear after every trip. 

Ordering a taxi ride to the airport is a gamble. Will the app work “Will the taxi show up on time? Will we show up on time? What about traffic? What if we arrive late and the gate closes just as we are walking up to the counter? By the time we are in the taxi and on the way to the airport I am on edge. I look at my watch often and open my bag to ensure the passports have not gone for a stroll. 

Then come the queues at the ticket counters that snake around endlessly. Here is the fear of getting someone push their trolley on to the back of my heel and maim me before the trip commences – it has happened, so I am always looking over my shoulder and glaring at anyone attempting to crowd me in. 

 At check-in, the airline’s scale inevitably adds an extra kilo, leaving me suspicious of their accuracy—or my math skills. Immigration is always so stressful - will my passport photo match my face? What if it doesn’t. The way the immigration officer looks at me is enough to send me into a panic. Do I resemble a wanted criminal!

In fact, airport staff rarely help my nerves. Even the pettiest among them exude an air of authority, determined to remind me of who’s boss. The questions—"Where are you going? Why? Where do you work?” are delivered by bored individuals at grimy counters, and their monotony makes the entire process feel like an interrogation from a disinterested cop.

Then comes security- the dreaded security! Shoes off, belt off, laptop out, charger out, purse, & watch put into another bag, liquids separated. Inevitably, my bag gets flagged for inspection for the number of keys we carry. Watching a stranger rummage through my knick - knacks socks and snacks never gets less awkward. I have been guilty of leaving my watch and phone at the checking post and having had to return for it, rather sheepishly.  

Flying business class, the first time was a revelation—clean lounge, lovely toilets, sumptuous food, drinks, comfy sofas, legroom in the plane, soft blankets, champagne, proper cutlery and above all no wrestling for armrests! But in economy, it’s a battle for survival. It’s almost a jungle out there! Between cramped seats and over-shared armrests, I’m reminded why I prefer solid ground. Travel broadens the mind, but it also tests my sanity.

 And I always pray that we have a good pilot who won’t drop off to sleep at the controls or lock himself out of the cockpit.  

Once we reach our destination- it’s not over – what about the luggage. I rush to the carousel- are we at the right one – I scan the crowd to try and see a familiar face from the plane – no such luck. I stand there, eyes scanning the endless stream of luggage, my heart skipping a beat with each new bag that goes by. There’s my suitcase—or is it? The bags blur into a chaotic sea of size and colour, all adorned with colourful ribbons, tape, and those little “fragile” stickers. Like everyone else, I lean in closer, hoping for a sign—anything to help me distinguish mine from the rest—but it’s all so confusing. To top it all, I am colour blind. I rush forward, grab a bag, scan the tag, only to realize it’s not mine. Oh, the awkward dance of pretending I didn’t just almost steal someone’s suitcase! And then, the thought creeps in: What if my luggage is lost? That’s happened before, and now the waiting is a jittery, suspense-filled ordeal, each round of the carousel feeling like an eternity.

Finally, I breathe a sigh of relief as I haul our luggage off the carousel and onto a trolley.

 I often get trolleys with a mind of their own- I am pushing in one direction, and the trolley seems to want to go elsewhere. Then comes the exit gate with uniformed, burly men with beady eyes looking for suspicious passengers. At times I have been signaled out to get my luggage scanned. After seeing umpteen “Airport programmes” I worry, – “what if someone has slipped something into my luggage!  My wife says I look guilty for no reason – now that thought plays in my head every time we are at an airport.

And then we are home or in a hotel at last. My mind then starts thinking about the return journey!

 I can’t help it – that’s me!

Are we becoming lazier

 5 am reflections 

Are We Becoming Lazier?

By the looks of it, I am inclined to say, "Yes!" Modern life, wrapped in its metaphorical plush sofas, cushions, comforters, and quilts, has turned existence into a buffet of convenience—and we’re piling our plates high. Between growing waistlines and shrinking step counts, it’s hard to ignore the fact that as a race, we are lazier than ever, and things are getting worse. 

I was born and brought up in Allahabad, a small town, where life was simple, even idyllic. Walking or cycling wasn’t just transportation, it was life itself. Whether it was school, church,  errands, or visiting a friend, my trusty cycle was my trusted companion, and it served me well . 

When I visited Amsterdam some years ago, it was indeed a refreshing eye-opener to see how many people used bicycles as a means of transport. 

 Moving to The Bishop's School in Pune, brought more structure but no gadgets or apps to make life easier. We didn’t Google; we flipped through Encyclopedia Britannica, carefully searching for answers. Learning took effort. I spent hours in the library at weekends preparing for lessons and taking handwritten notes as a means of reference. 

Today, technology does so much of the work for us. Mobile phones are our lifelines—connecting us, helping us navigate, and reminding us of everything from appointments to groceries. Forget your phone at home when you go out and one feels strangely nervous. 

Personal grooming is being  done effortlessly too: hair stylists and beauticians visit us at home, and vans equipped to groom cats and dogs pull up at our doorsteps. Fuel, food, groceries, even laundry—it all arrives at home with a few taps. Robot vacuum cleaners silently keep our homes spotless. You don't even have to walk your dog any longer - there is always someone who will do it for a fee. 

Natural exercise—like walking to the market, seeing to the garden or washing the car—has been replaced by gym memberships. Tasks that once kept us moving are now outsourced. 

Convenience is undeniable, but so is the cost to our health and independence. High blood pressure, cholesterol, obesity, heart diseases and even mental health issues were hardly heard of. 

It makes me wonder: what will life be like 20 years from now?

 Holograms for meetings, drones for deliveries, AI to think for us, will we lose the joy of doing things ourselves?

 Perhaps it’s time to step back, reflect, and find balance before the art of living actively fades entirely.

The Selfie craze

 "No malice toward anyone, past or present." 

In pure jest. 

This is certainly not a tirade against Selfie takers – I have taken a few selfies myself and quite enjoyed doing so – do it now and then and you are fine  However, there should  be a self imposed  limit for every craze-  let it not become an obsession .

Do   you find yourself taking a selfie for every occasion—whether it's a casual day at home, a night out, or even a random moment of relaxation. Maybe your phone is bursting with dozens of selfie variations, each one with different angles, filters, and expressions. You might even travel just for the perfect selfie spot, seeking out picturesque locations for your next photo op. Perhaps, more tellingly, you spend a great deal of time adjusting your hair, lighting, and posing to perfect your selfie than enjoying the moment.

 If you can relate to any of these signs, then there’s no denying it—you surely are a selfie addict- or in the process of  becoming one  beware! 

What is it with this enduring craze called selfies?

 Are we so lonely that we can’t find a neighbor, spouse, friend, or a passerby to click for us? Must we plaster social media with photos of us devouring a samosa, awkwardly perched in a car, or standing solo with the sea behind us? Honestly, who is clamoring to see these moments?

Then, there are the daredevils who risk life and limb for that epic selfie atop cliffs, skyscrapers, or while dangling precariously over crocodile pits. Social media is full of them .  Is fame worth the paramedics shaking their heads at your folly?

Like it or lump it - the selfie has become an inescapable part of modern life, as unavoidable as Wi-Fi signals or the jingles of an ice cream truck on a summer day. Whether you’re in the middle of a bustling city square, praying in a cathedral, or trekking up a remote mountain trail, someone is bound to be striking a pose with a camera aimed at their own face. It’s as if the world itself has become one giant photo booth, with every moment treated as an opportunity to curate an online persona and become an influencer.

And let’s face it—some of these selfie antics are downright absurd. Who decided that squatting by a roadside trash can or posing next to a half-eaten burger was photo-worthy? Is capturing yourself mid-yawn, pretending to hold up the Leaning Tower of Pisa or holding the moon in the palm of your hand, the pinnacle of human achievement?  

It gets better (or worse): some even add dramatic captions like “Living my best life!” under a photo of themselves sitting on a hospital bed or “Unstoppable” while holding a soggy umbrella and getting soaked in the rain 

 What about "Can’t stop, won’t stop” while pretending to jump off a cliff!  

Give the world a break – please! 

And let’s remember: If you’re happy and you know it, enjoy the moment—not every joy needs to be immortalized.

 Instead of obsessing over perfect angles, filters, or hashtags, why not just live in the moment? 

Savor the laughter, the breeze, and the fleeting beauty of the present. Some of life’s best memories aren’t filtered or captioned—they're simply felt, lived, and cherished in the now. 

No camera needed.

Kallu kabari

 Some of you Allahabadis may remember a ' kabari walla' named Kallu way back in the day.

I was a young school boy and Kallu was a regular in a number of houses( in the railway quarters and Christian - Anglo Indian houses ) all over Allahabad. 

Every Sunday he would do his rounds on his rusty weatherbeaten bicycle. 

He was friendly , talked loud and had a louder laugh. 

He was a nice chap, around 40 years old, and because he had been around for years, no one minded him coming and squatting in the first room. 

It didn't matter whether you had papers, bottles or anything else to sell. He was the opposite of a good salesman ! A great purchaser.

His eyes would dart around the room and he would offer some silly sum of money for any item that caught his fancy- whether you were selling it or not!

This irritated me for obvious reasons.

He once offered to buy my cycle for 25 rupees! Then kept increasing it till his top offer was 50. We were not even intending to sell it.

As if by miracle he would land up at houses when people were doing spring cleaning or white washing.

That's when everything would be put into the front compound and he would be there trying to pick up a bargain.

To give the devil his due, he often bought stuff which would otherwise be thrown in the bin. However that was a ruse to get the buying going. 

Once he got you in the selling frame of mind he almost hypnotised people into selling more stuff.

He was persuasive, determined and cunning and patient . He would spend hours bargaining and after hours in one house he would go and bring a cycle rickshaw and load up his loot!.

I would often tell him in the best Hindi that I could muster that he must be happy for crooking us. He would reply in his broken English ' Michael baba I go loss, this all rubbish useless stuff'

Then with a crooked smile he would tell the rickshaw man to start moving.

With a big Salam he would cycle off - another day of profit.

Allahabad had its strange yet well known hawkers and buyers!

Am sure other cities had similar characters as well.

Those schoolboy days

 As a primary student  at St. Joseph's High school in Allahabad, I always dreaded the return to school after any vacation, especially Christmas. 

The joy of the winter holidays would vanish, replaced by the rigors of early mornings, shivering baths, and the daunting task of completing holiday homework. Packing bags, donning the school uniform, and climbing into a cycle rickshaw for the ride to school became the routine.

Allahabad was insanely cold and I believe it still is , especially on the days when there is a 'nahan'. It was usually cloudy and depressing . 

I vividly recall those cold January mornings when the mist and fog blurred the tree-lined streets and the sun struggled to shine through. Civil Lines shops remained shuttered in the biting chill, and the drizzle during nahan days only deepened my gloom. As i would pass by , I’d watch people gather around small roadside fires, sipping steaming tea, a scene that always seemed oddly comforting in contrast to the demands of school life.

Back in the classroom, teachers brimming with energy inspected our holiday homework, and new pupils timidly found their place. The bold and the clever always occupied the front benches- the rest of us slunk as far back as possible .  

The arrival of new teachers often struck fear into young hearts- I remember a few of that tribe .

Subjects like Math and Hindi felt oppressive, and Sanskrit, introduced later, seemed even worse. I was poor in Hindi to say the very least .  It’s curious how disliking a subject often goes hand-in-hand with disliking its teacher, though I’m still unsure which comes first.

The lunch recess offered some respite. We played on jungle gyms and swings, brushing off minor injuries without fuss. Boys who owned footballs or cricket bats became instant favorites. if you possessed a yellow tennis ball you were well known !  

 Water breaks meant crowding around a round tank fitted with several taps, some inevitably broken, adding to the charm of our shared school struggles. Not sure if it was ever cleaned but the water was fine- cool and refreshing .  

During the break we also attempted to break tamarind and when all else failed we ate tamarind leaves for their sourness . 

The end of the break was signaled by a long bell ringing, and everyone rushed back to class. The horrible stench of perspiration often pervaded the air, and no one seemed in the mood to study in the afternoon.

 We all impatiently awaited the final bell, which unleashed loud shouting and hooting as students rushed out to go home. Teachers tried in vain to maintain order, but the chaos was inevitable.

Looking back, those days, though challenging, were formative. The rhythm of school life, however reluctant we were to return to it, instilled resilience, camaraderie, and unforgettable memories.

ALLAHABAD CIVIL LINES  NOSTALGIC MEMORIES

St Joseph's College, Allahabad

ALLAHABAD

The All India Anglo Indian Association - Allahabad branch

Jan 2023

 We decided to start the year 2023 by attending church, so planned to go for the 7. 30 am mass at the church in Jebel Ali. 

I set the alarm for 5.00 am but woke at 4.15 am and could not sleep thereafter, so was having tea by 4. 30 am.

It was the New year - I felt happy - I felt fresh and life was good.

It's a 15-minute drive to church and keeping in mind the fact that it was new year's day, and there would be hordes of people rushing to church, or so I surmised, I thought it wise to leave by 6.30am.

Being the impatient sort, I was sitting in the car by 6.20am. I honked at 6.25am to alert the wife that I was ready, and then again at 6. 30am while trying to stay calm and collected but there was no sign of her. She then sauntered out at 6.40 am and without even looking in my direction, she began feeding a stray cat that has adopted us. 

Mind you , I had the window glass down and was kind of glaring!

" Keep calm Michael," I said to myself. " It's new years day, and you must not  get upset  at trivial matters  " 

 I was not hyperventilating or anything just then,but was a trifle annoyed, as I am quite a stickler for time and hate to be late. However, after 37 years of marriage, one learns when to say something and when to hold one's peace. Peace won that morning, and we drove to church. The conversation was amicable.  

On the approach road, there were no cars to be seen, and I was surprised! The parking lots near the church, where there is always a traffic jam, were empty as well- just a few cars had been parked. 

Had I blundered with the timing? I hoped not, as I didn't want to look stupid. 

Fortunately, that was not the case. We strolled into the church and though all the lights were not on as yet, there was tons of place with plenty of empty pews. That was a welcome sight. 

This was turning out to be our lucky day, as the church is usually packed and overflowing.

We sat down in the 8th row but had barely settled in when my wife decided that we should move forward, as that would enable us to get a better view. I won't blame her, because I agreed without hesitation. I usually make a fuss about shifting.  Probably it was the thrill of the new year or something to that effect. There were prayers being recited upfront so all was 'hunky dory'.

Then the church began to fill very fast. Before we could say: "Holy Moses" or anything for that matter, a couple walked in and sat down in the pew in front of us. The lady was of average height with extremely bushy hair but the man was a giant. He was probably about 6 feet 8 inches or more in height, and broad of stature. To add to that, he seemed to be wearing a black suit about 2 sizes too large for him. His size and her hair style made sure that the altar was obliterated from view. By then the pews all around us were filled. So here we were, with this giant in front of us, along  with his bushy haired wife and nowhere for us to shift to.  If he was a few inches taller it would have been fine, as I would have probably been able to view the altar from between his legs. Now that is a bit of an exaggeration but I guess you can imagine the scene.   

Just as mass was about to commence  I looked to the left of the giant and his wife. There was a man kneeling - or so I thought. He looked to be tall too. A closer look revealed that he was a dwarf and he was standing beside his wife who was kneeling. He must have been all of 3 feet and no inches.  That was a strange coincidence indeed, to have a dwarf and a giant on the same bench.

 I was quite amused and this was turning out to be a fun day.

There is just one more piece to add to this story. 

I am having pain in the right knee so kneeling is out of the question. Hence I was seated and the person - a lady behind me, was kneeling.

The opening hymn began, and if ever anyone had a voice of poor quality it was her. She was not just a mediocre or terrible singer - she was downright atrocious.  She was off-tone, offbeat, and didn't seem to know the words either. 

Now they were up on the screen, in plain sight, and in large font, and I don't have the faintest clue as to why she didn't just look up and follow them. 

Sorry, I am not being unduly critical, and with all due respect to her, but her voice was high-pitched and nasal, and she was pretty close to my ears as well. 

Not that she was singing softly either - that would have been acceptable. She was going full blast and her voice seemed to echo deep into my skull. She gave it to me in stereophonic sound for every hymn sung that morning. Let me give credit, where credit is due - for the last hymn - she was not too bad!

1st Jan 2023 was certainly a day I will remember.

Make 2025 count

 Make 2025 Count

As we step into the third day of 2025, the swiftness with which time seems to pass is undeniable. The older we get, the faster years seem to blur by. I remember when i was in school - each day seemed to drag . Todays it's just the opposite . It reminds me of that famous poem |I once recited in an elocution competition and won .

"From a Railway Carriage

By Robert Louis Stevenson

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,

Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;

And charging along like troops in a battle,

All through the meadows, the horses and cattle........."

So what will 2025 bring?

 It will be a year like any other, full of highs and lows, beginnings and endings, triumphs and tragedies and thereby lies a tale.

There will be marriages celebrated and relationships dissolved. Some will secure their dream jobs while others face the pain of loss. Children will take their first hesitant steps into schools, and young adults will walk proudly at graduations. Fires, floods, famines, and wars will cast shadows, while other parts of the world will flourish. Life’s complexity will continue to unfold—builders constructing dreams and destroyers pulling them down, sowers planting hope and consumers reaping its fruits.

Education in 2025 is set to be a dynamic blend of technology-driven personalization and human-centered approaches. Classrooms will increasingly leverage artificial intelligence and data analytics to provide tailored learning experiences, ensuring each student progresses at their own pace. Virtual and augmented reality tools will make lessons more  immersive, transforming traditional subjects into interactive adventures.

 However, the human touch remains crucial, with educators focusing on fostering creativity, empathy, and critical thinking—there are so many things that skill machines cannot replicate- at least not right now . 

Schools will continue to focus on prioritizing  inclusivity and global citizenship, preparing students to tackle complex challenges like climate change and social inequality while embracing the interconnectedness of the digital age.

Entertainment will delight us, AI and technology will redefine boundaries, and unimaginable inventions will emerge. Yet amidst all of this, death—the great leveler—will remind us of life's fragility. Some of us will not be here to welcome 2026.

So, what can we do? Simply, make each day count. Focus not on clichéd resolutions but on becoming better, more empathetic, and more compassionate. Strive for personal growth—learn a new skill, create something meaningful, or share your talents with others. Spread love, peace, and joy wherever you can.

This year, let us resolve to make the world a little brighter while we can.

Time moves swiftly, but the impact of our kindness and care can linger long after we are no more .

Let us seize each moment to uplift others, knowing that even small actions can create ripples of change.

Together, we can leave a legacy of compassion that outlasts these fleeting days.