The LOLLYPOP Man

 THE LOLLYPOP MAN

 I can picture it even now — Exhibition Road, the traffic held up, a long line of boys spilling out from the school gates, some impatiently edging forward, and one of our support staff standing firmly in the middle of the road, lollipop stop sign raised high. As a master, I saw this scene countless times.

And somehow, that simple picture has stayed with me.

Who remembers it?

The boys were crossing from the school campus to Jeejeebhoy Ground — the Simba field — and back again. Occasionally, a teacher would take on the duty, and sometimes even Mr Beaman himself.

It was a small but important part of the daily rhythm of The Bishop’s School, Pune — care, kindness and a sense of duty.

Though the boys did not always make life easy! In their hurry to get across, some would suddenly dash into the road, completely ignoring the raised sign. I’m sure there were a few heart-in-the-mouth moments for the person trying to keep them safe.

Later, the same arrangement was used on the road between St Margaret’s field and the new Roberts Block.

It’s remarkable what the mind chooses to keep. Years later, an ordinary scene like this can bring back the boys, the masters, the grounds, the games and the countless little routines that made up our school days.

Were you ever one of those boys waiting to cross Exhibition Road? And do you remember the lollipop sign — and the person holding it?

Were you ever asked to hold it and help boys cross over?

The Bishop's School, Pune

Letting go

 MORNING REFLECTION 

**Sometimes, You Have to Let Go**

We spend so much of life learning how to hold on:

to plans, to people,

to dreams we once believed were meant for us,

taught that seeing things through

is the measure of strength.

But some roads that once felt right

stop feeling like home.

A job left after many good years.

Not because it was bad,

or the people were wrong,

but because something else, quietly, felt right instead.

Dreams age too.

Some belonged to an earlier version of ourselves:

worth everything then,

proud of even now,

but no longer the shape of who we've become.

That doesn't make those years a mistake.

We look back at them with gratitude, with affection,

the lessons, the friendships,

the people they built.

A thing doesn't have to last forever

to have mattered.

It was right for us then. It isn't now.

Life keeps moving. We move with it.

New rooms open,

and sometimes we notice, almost by accident,

that the life ahead fits better

than the one we're still holding.

A life well lived isn't measured

by how long we held on,

but by the gratitude for where we've been,

the nerve to stand where we are,

and the readiness to see

 where we're headed next.

On leading people

 Lead the Head. Earn the Trust. Touch the Heart.

Over 45 years in education, I have learnt a great deal about leadership simply by watching people. I have had some wonderful role models along the way, but some of my strongest lessons have also come from seeing what happens when leadership gets it wrong.

I first came across the terms Logos, Ethos and Pathos in a philosophical article I happened to read. The three words stayed with me because, the more I thought about them, the more I realised how closely they connect with leadership.

One thing I have learnt over the years is simple: you cannot force a good idea down someone’s throat. It's always been a big NO for me. 

The days of “because I said so” leadership are largely gone. Perhaps earlier generations accepted it more readily. Today, people want to understand why something needs to change, how it will work, what it will achieve and what difference it will make.

And I think that is a good thing.

That is where Logos, Ethos and Pathos come in.

Logos — make the case.

Give people the facts, evidence and reasoning behind an idea. Warren Buffett is a good example of the power of a clear, well-reasoned argument.

Ethos — earn the trust.

People need to believe in the person behind the message. Experience, character and consistency matter. Mahatma Gandhi demonstrated how leadership can be grounded in the credibility of the person as much as in the message.

Pathos — touch the heart.

Even the strongest argument may not move people unless they have a reason to care. Martin Luther King Jr. showed the extraordinary power of hope, purpose and emotional connection.

The best leaders use all three. The balance simply changes according to the person, the situation and the decision.

I remember an occasion in education when this became very real for me.

We were starting a particular prose book in Grade 9, and I suggested moving it to Grade 8.

There was understandable hesitation. Why change something that had been done the same way for years?

My reasoning was straightforward. Starting earlier would give teachers and pupils more time to teach, learn and assimilate the book, rather than having to rush through it.

We discussed the reasoning, the practicalities and the expected outcomes. But at some point, the conversation came back to the pupils themselves.

Why should learning be a race against time?

Why not give children the space to understand, absorb and enjoy what they are learning?

The discussion gradually became less about moving a book from Grade 9 to Grade 8 and more about a simple question: what is better for learning?

That experience reinforced something I have seen throughout my career. Leadership is not about forcing people to accept your idea. It is about helping them understand it, trust it and, ultimately, see why it matters.

Logos makes the case.

Ethos earns the trust.

Pathos touches the heart.

When you bring all three together, you move beyond compliance.

You create commitment.