Linkedin

 It's about LinkedIn 

It begins with a ping.

A connection request from someone you have never met, never heard of, and are reasonably certain has never crossed your professional orbit.

No mutual connections.

No shared institutions.

No obvious reason.

No clue why.

You accept—because you are polite or just in a good mood. 

Two minutes later, the message arrives.

> So amazing to see you here!!!

Here?

I have been here for years. 

Next line:

> Heard great things about you. Truly inspirational!

From whom?

My barber?

The tailor who spoilt my suit? 

Ali my Gardner? 

The gentleman who once watched me battle a malfunctioning laptop?

Then, without warning, the conversation turns deeply personal:

> How’s life been treating you? All good? 

We have not exchanged a hello and already we are reviewing my life and being supportive ? 

Then the fan moment:

> Big fan of your work. Way to go. 

Which work?

My annual appraisals? 

The articles on my cat ? 

My ability to locate the mute button before speaking?

And finally, the blessing:

> You do an amazing job. Keep it up Mr Michael !

Keep what up?

Functioning?

And get my name right. Michael is my first name.

I glance at the profile.

No posts.

No activity.

One inspirational quote 2 years ago about  success being a journey! 

There is something impressive about the confidence—

the warmth of a long-lost classmate,

the familiarity of a family friend,

the enthusiasm of someone who has absolutely no idea who you are.

It is networking as performance.

A friendly monologue delivered to a stranger.

And it always arrives before you set off for work.

A Morning with Elvis

 

Here’s 

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A Morning with Elvis at Dubai Mall

At 9:30 a.m., in a washroom at Dubai Mall, Elvis Presley smiled at me.

Yes — that Elvis.

I realise how that sounds, which is why I hesitated to write it.

I have been an Elvis fan all my life — not casually. I have read the biographies, listened to the recordings, argued about Vegas versus the Comeback Special. In Allahabad, I played rhythm guitar and sang Jailhouse Rock and Hound Dog. We played at all the big dances and clubs, and for those few minutes on stage we believed — completely — that rock ’n’ roll had arrived.

I had just stepped out of a stall, humming Can’t Help Falling in Love. The hand dryer roared behind me, warm air carrying the faint scent of citrus soap.

He stood beside me at the sink.

Tall. Slightly stooped. Balding at the back. Jeans. A blazer with quiet authority.

Another man waited near the entrance, watchful in a way that suggested he was not there for the soap.

The gentleman next to me washed his hands slowly, removed his mask, and looked up.

Time stretched.

The cheekbones. The curl of the lip. That half-smile that once travelled across continents faster than radio waves. Age had softened the frame, but the expression was unmistakable.

He splashed water on his face, met my eyes in the mirror, and smiled. Not broadly. Just a small, knowing smile that seemed to say: Yes, I know the song.

No one else noticed. The world carried on with complete indifference to history at the sink.

In that instant the past returned — the cracked microphone, the nervous energy of youth, the first chord ringing out to a room full of strangers who suddenly mattered. I thought of an elderly Elvis devotee I know in Pune whose room is a shrine of vinyl. I thought of how music travels — Memphis to Allahabad to Dubai — ignoring geography, obeying only memory.

He adjusted his blazer, nodded, put his mask back on, and walked out, the watchful companion falling into step beside him. My hands were still damp; I realised I had been holding my breath.

Outside, the morning bustle of Dubai Mall resumed — shoppers, coffee cups, children negotiating for ice cream. I followed at a respectful distance, purely in the interests of historical verification.

He entered the Gucci store.

A few minutes later he emerged with a sleek bag, as one does when one is the King.

Then a black limousine appeared at the curb with cinematic timing. He slid into the back seat, the door closed, and the car moved off with the smooth inevitability of legend.

At that exact moment I remembered — it was Elvis’s birthday.

Of course it was.

Just like that, he vanished into Dubai traffic, leaving me grinning like a teenager who had just played his first successful gig.

Will anyone believe this? Almost certainly not. But some encounters are not about proof; they are about recognition — a shared note across time.

And yes — Gucci bag, black limousine, birthday and all — it was Elvis.

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IN A NOISY WORLD, SILENCE HAS ITS OWN AUTHORITY

 

Mastering the Quiet Power of Choice

It’s 6 a.m., and the day is just awakening. You glance at the clock as your morning begins, only to find your phone has already buzzed five times, breakfast lies untouched, and your focus becoming elusive. Before long, your morning is being commandeered by someone seeking your attention, and you find yourself explaining why they think you ignored a message or misunderstood a point—all while they grin as if they’ve just won Wimbledon.

One moment, you’re tying your shoelaces or centering your thoughts for the day; the next, you’re drawn into conversations that aren’t urgent, group chats that never end, or emails that could have easily  waited. Without so much as a ‘by your leave’ , your energy is gone, leaving you drained. Experience shows that those who chase constant approval rarely lead, while the quiet observer often holds far more influence. Attention is precious, and some people have a subtle way of taking it without asking, leaving everyone exhausted. Every argument, clarification, or justification exacts a cost in energy that seldom returns. You should not attempt to be the center of attention, the class clown, or the people-pleaser to get ahead; true influence comes from restraint and deliberate engagement.

The answer is deceptively simple: ignore, don’t explain, don’t justify, and let your energy return. Arguments are treadmills we never signed up for, and some people thrive on friction—don’t feed it. Save your energy for what truly matters: finishing a project that has meaning for you, making your coffee strong enough to survive Monday, or simply reflecting quietly without interruption. Notice how a single uninterrupted hour can feel more productive than half a day spent reacting to others.

Being selective changes the dynamic. The more available you are, the less impact you have. Speak deliberately, nod when needed, and let your words carry weight. Choosing when to step back builds quiet self-respect. If no one validates you, move forward anyway—and occasionally acknowledge yourself. It counts more than you think. In these small pauses, the deliberate decision not to react, we discover a sense of calm authority and discernment that cannot be challenged externally.

Think of it this way: be more like cats, less like dogs. Dogs chase everything, barking for attention, eager to please, while cats decide when they appear, when they care, and when they walk away—leaving everyone guessing. Be the cat in every conversation: deliberate in presence, selective in affection, and unhurried in retreat. Let others chase shadows if they will—close the app, mute the thread, and watch the world continue without you.

Stop replying immediately. Take a nap, read a book, or scroll through something light—your life goes on. Respond only when it truly matters, and let your silence speak. People will notice, perhaps even smile at your calm composure. Over time, you begin to notice how much lighter your days feel when you choose your attention meticulously.

The first time you try this, it can feel awkward. People will lean in, trying to pull you into drama—and that is fine. It is your quiet reset from approval, from being liked, and from thinking every misunderstanding is your responsibility. Once you move past it, silence becomes your loudest statement. Actions speak far louder than explanations.

And it’s quietly amusing watching people scramble when you go silent—like serving decaf when someone expected espresso. You learn that not every ping requires a response and not every comment deserves energy.

In today’s world, attention is under constant pull: family groups, friends, classmates, colleagues—even well-meaning pals. Some messages are urgent, some are not—but all chip away at focus. I remain fully engaged at work and in life; what has changed is how deliberately I engage. I read meticulously, respond thoughtfully, and let the rest wait. It does not slow life down—it brings clarity. In the quiet pause between messages, in the spaces we refuse to fill with reaction, we find perspective, understanding, and, surprisingly, control.

Tonight, skip a ping, leave a thread unread, and simply watch how things unfold. Step back, stop chasing, stop clarifying, and stop giving your energy away unnecessarily. Let outcomes speak for themselves, and allow people to rise to meet you—or quietly fade into the background. Guard your focus, spend it wisely, and let the rest take care of itself.

That is the art of ignoring—and the quiet authority it brings. Remember, it is not about shutting the world out; it is about choosing when to step in and where to invest your energy. That subtle discipline is where real influence lives.

 

All the World’s a Stage

 

All the World’s a Stage
Performing for the world, fading for yourself.

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts.”

And most of us don’t even notice. We smile, we nod, we say the words everyone expects, while the real self—the messy, impatient, exhausted self—shrinks a little more each day.

I met a friend the other day and asked him how he was. He said, “Good.” Polite, quick, easy. A few minutes later, in passing, he admitted he was exhausted. That tiny contradiction—what he said versus what he felt—lingered with me.

It’s the small things that reveal the quiet cost of pretending. Most people aren’t lying, exactly. They’re performing—measuring words, expressions, and energy to fit in, avoid trouble, or simply survive the day. Isn’t that what the world expects? Over time, these tiny adjustments add up, and the real self—the messy, private, sometimes grumpy, sometimes sarcastic self—shrinks, tucked away where few ever see it.

I see it everywhere: in offices, in classrooms, even on social media feeds. Everyone performing a little, everyone presenting a little, everyone showing just enough to be liked. The real person? Often hidden, probably rolling their eyes at their own act.

Offices take it further. People speak in jargon as if it were a secret language: “Let’s circle back,” “we need to touch base,” “focus on low-hanging fruit.” Every sentence polished, every smile measured. You nod at slides you barely understand. You agree with ideas you secretly think are nonsense. You manage your energy just to survive another day of choreographed politeness. It’s exhausting. Yet everyone does it, because stepping out of the script feels dangerous—or oddly wrong.

And it’s not just offices. Walk into any shop, and the performance is on full display: the carefully chosen outfit, the rehearsed posture, the sing-song drawl of shop assistants, trained to say, “Hi there! How can I help yooou today?” In high-end stores, it can even drift toward condescension—a delicate mix of politeness and implied superiority. Every gesture, every word, every nod is choreographed, as if the world itself were a stage and we’re all playing our part.

The strangest part is that all this performance exists for everyone else, not for you. Every interaction creates a version of you in someone else’s mind. One person thinks you’re confident, another thinks you’re arrogant. Someone sees you as cold, another as warm. None of these versions are truly you—they’re fragments, never showing the whole person.

Social media hasn’t invented fakeness, but it magnifies it. Every post, every carefully chosen image, every highlight reel earns attention, praise, a tiny hit of validation. The world rewards polish, cleverness, likability—but rarely rewards honesty. The real self, the messy, grumpy, sarcastic, beautifully human self? It’s like raw fruit slowly cooked over heat: every day of performing softens it, changes it, until the bright, sharp edges fade and what’s left is palatable—but never quite the original.

We spend our lives performing—smiling, nodding, saying the words everyone expects. The world sees the act and applauds. Meanwhile, the real us—the raw, messy, impatient self—is slowly cooked by expectation and applause, softening, fading. And yet, if we look closely, glimpses of who we truly are still flash through—in a sarcastic comment, a sharp eye-roll, a tired sigh. They remind us that the self may be restrained, but it is never fully gone.

 

The Quiet Joy of Holding On

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From Biscuit Tins to Money Plants

Subhead: The Quiet Joy of Holding On

In many homes, nothing ever really disappears. A biscuit tin meant for cookies might hold buttons, tangled thread, or a lone safety pin—and somehow, it stays a biscuit tin. Logic, it seems, quickly gives up.

Even back in school, the habit was clear. At a school where I worked in Pune, a teacher shaped by the war years collected brown paper, thread, and bottles, smoothing and saving them to reuse for wrapping sweets or small gifts. Bottles, shoelaces, boxes—everything had a purpose. Practical, thrifty, meticulous, he showed us early on that nothing was wasted.

The money plant brings this habit to life. Placed in bottles that once held something else and thriving in water alone, it turns ordinary containers into something decorative. I first grew one this way in school for a class project to study roots. Fifty boys arrived with bottles of all shapes and sizes, each carrying a tiny green shoot. The classroom became a miniature jungle of recycled creativity—chaotic, curious, yet quietly brilliant. School exhibitions today still celebrate this spirit: bottles, jars, and boxes finding new purpose. Creative reuse, once born of necessity, is coming back into fashion.

At home, the lesson continued. When an elderly person passes on, you often find a lifetime of carefully saved items—wrappers, jars, ribbons, tins—each telling a story. My mother wrapped my schoolbooks in newspaper instead of brown paper. At the time, I grumbled. Later, I understood: practicality, care, and quiet respect for what we have.

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UAE / Contemporary Observation
In the UAE, the habit shows up differently. Large glass bottles, sturdy containers, and elegant boxes from malls and boutiques look appealing, almost too nice to discard. I recently spotted five decorative glass flower containers stacked in a garden corner—heavy, square, useless, yet patiently waiting for a purpose they would never serve.

Sustainability & Scarcity
Plastic bottles, meanwhile, are often saved to store water—a precious resource in parts of India and other regions. Footage of people fleeing war zones shows countless bottles carefully collected for the same reason: storing life itself. Yet in many well-developed countries today, younger generations rarely pause to appreciate this instinct. Items are bought, barely used, and discarded without thought. Recycling, repairing, or reusing has become almost foreign. Perhaps we cling to these habits because we understand something deeper: that true value lies not in the new or convenient, but in practicality, care, and sustainability—in giving things a second life and nurturing thoughtful consumption.

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This instinct has roots in history. During World War I and World War II, households were encouraged—or sometimes required—to save, reuse, and repurpose everyday items because new goods were scarce and critical materials were needed for the war effort. Even after abundance returned, these practices persisted, shaping how generations view value and memory.

What began as necessity became ritual. Practicality became memory. Survival became habit. Identity.

Why are humans like this? Conditioning? Habit? Generational memory? Or something deeper, coded in our DNA? Perhaps all of these. Perhaps none. Perhaps it is simply the human condition: stubborn, sentimental, practical, cautious.

We save boxes, bottles, ribbons, and cards—but in truth, we preserve fragments of memory, markers of life lived. Perhaps that is what makes us human.

In the end, nothing is ever truly empty—not the cupboard, not the chest, not even our hearts. Every object carries a story. Every corner holds a memory. And quietly, patiently, everything waits, remembers, and whispers who we are.

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When One Life Shapes the World

 

When One Life Shapes the World

Reflections on Leadership, Legacy, and Choice

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History: A Living Teacher

“History is not just a record of the past; it is a mirror showing how the courage, vision, or choices of a single life can tilt the world and echo across generations.”

Many say history is a dead subject. I beg to differ. History is alive. It teaches. It warns. It inspires in ways nothing else can. It shows us patterns, decisions, and consequences that stretch far beyond a single lifetime. While we often speak of movements, institutions, and collective will, the decisive turns of civilization have repeatedly come from one individual, whose choices echo across generations.

By studying those who shaped history — for better or worse — schools and education reveal their deepest purpose: to teach judgment, empathy, and courage, preparing generations to respond when the world calls.

We like to think progress is collective, that wisdom emerges from consensus, and that safeguards protect us from catastrophe. Yet history teaches a different lesson: when the world tilts dramatically, it is often because one person chose to act, setting forces in motion that no one else could fully contain or predict.

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Lives That Shaped Civilization

Consider the figures whose choices left an enduring imprint:

• The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) (c. 570–632 CE) — whose vision blended faith, ethics, and governance, guiding millions for centuries.
• Jesus Christ (c. 4 BCE–c. 30–33 CE) — whose teachings on love, sacrifice, and justice reshaped generations.
• Gautama Buddha (c. 563–c. 483 BCE) — who showed that true transformation begins within, teaching that inner peace and reflection can ripple outward to transform societies.
• Mahatma Gandhi (1869–1948) — whose unwavering commitment to nonviolence and principle inspired monumental social change.
• The 14th Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso (1935–present) — whose compassion, patience, and moral clarity continue to guide millions.

These lives remind us that influence is measured not in armies or wealth, but in the enduring power to shape thought, values, and human behavior, leaving lessons for generations to come.

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The Dark Side of Singular Power

History also demonstrates the heavy consequences of choices:

• Adolf Hitler (1889–1945) — reshaped Europe with catastrophic results.
• Mao Zedong (1893–1976) — transformed China on a sweeping scale, affecting millions.

These examples underline the immense responsibility carried by those in positions of power. Influence can heal, but it can also harm, sometimes on an unimaginable scale.

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The World Today

When we look around, it is clear: a few leaders dominate the headlines, and their decisions affect millions. Despite repeated calls for peace, and despite international institutions working tirelessly, conflicts continue, causing uncertainty, displacement, and loss of life. Nearly 8 billion people live under the influence of these decisions, a stark reminder of how profoundly leadership choices shape the world.

History shows us that decisive action can tilt civilization for better or worse. Today, the choices of a few ripple outward, highlighting the urgent need for foresight, reflection, and moral responsibility — both individually and collectively.

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Lessons from the UAE

The United Arab Emirates exemplifies the power of visionary, thoughtful leadership. Guided by foresight, compassion, and an unwavering commitment to the common good, this emerging nation has become a model of stability, innovation, and unity. Its cities, institutions, and initiatives demonstrate that decisions grounded in wisdom, inclusivity, and foresight can elevate societies and leave lasting, positive legacies.

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One Life or All of Us?

History shows that one life can tilt the world, yet the awareness, reflection, and choices of millions ultimately determine whether that tilt results in enduring progress. While the past often shows singular figures changing history, today the power to shape the future is shared. Courage, foresight, and compassion, multiplied across communities, can guide humanity toward hope, stability, and lasting peace.

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A Call to Action

The world is watching. Once again, history may hinge on the choices of a single individual — someone whose decisions could tilt humanity toward either hope or devastation. Yet perhaps the moment has shifted. Perhaps it is now up to all of us, together, to act with wisdom, foresight, and moral clarity, shaping a future defined not by destruction, but by hope, growth, and progress.

The question is no longer just about one life. It is about the choices we make, the alliances we forge, and the courage we summon. History may hinge on one life, or it may be written by all of us — if we summon the courage, foresight, and compassion to shape a future of hope.

 

Beyond Marks: Helping Students Thrive in Board Exams

 

 

Beyond Marks: Helping Students Thrive in Board Exams

A clarion call for parents, teachers, and learners to focus on preparation, resilience, and self-belief—not just results.

“With the boards around the corner, the real question is not whether learners are ready—but how we can improve the guidance, reassurance, and encouragement we provide, so they face the challenges ahead with self-belief and resilience.”

Every year, as the CBSE Board examinations for Grades 10 and 12 approach, tension builds in familiar ways. Classrooms grow quieter, homes more tense. Some young people seem confident, even relaxed, but many others are anxious and uncertain. They fear failing, disappointing their families, or not meeting expectations, sometimes without fully understanding them.

There is no denying it—achievements matter. They reflect the effort, preparation, and dedication learners put in, and they play a role in shaping future opportunities, including college admissions. Yet, marks should never define a pupil’s worth or overwhelm their poise.

Too often, we hear of learners becoming overwhelmed by stress, before, during, or after assessments. These stories remind us that academic pressure, if unchecked, can affect far more than grades. No examination, no outcome, is worth such a cost.

Which is why this period calls not for panic, but for perspective.

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There is Still Time to Make a Difference

The good news is that there is still time. How we use it now can make a real difference. Make every day count, but do it wisely. Pace yourself, take breaks, and rest when needed. Balanced, consistent effort now will pay off far more than frantic last-minute work ever could.

Families naturally hope for the best from their young people, and teachers foster effort and excellence. The boards are never easy, no matter how prepared learners may be. But when the tension is framed as guidance rather than criticism, it becomes a source of mentorship. Pupils need to know they are supported, that their efforts are recognized, and that asking for help or pausing to reflect strengthens their inner strength.

Looking back at classrooms over the years, I have seen the same nerves, but today there is also greater resilience and assurance. Learners who perform well do not necessarily study longer—they study smarter. They plan, revise strategically, focus on understanding concepts rather than memorizing blindly, practice past papers, identify weak areas early, and ask for help when needed. Most importantly, they do not leave everything to the last minute.

Good learners also protect their routines. They sleep properly, eat well, and take short breaks. A tired mind cannot perform at its best, no matter how many hours are spent with a book open.

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Smart Study: How to Prepare Effectively

For young people, here’s how to study effectively:

·                     Make a realistic study plan and stick to it.

·                     Break subjects into manageable sections, focusing on one topic at a time.

·                     Revise regularly instead of cramming.

·                     Practice writing answers under time limits.

·                     Ask questions early; doubt is not weakness.

·                     Review mistakes and learn from them.

·                     Balance effort with rest.

·                     Focus on understanding, not just memorizing.

·                     Stay consistent rather than intense.

·                     Keep a positive mindset and avoid unhealthy comparisons.

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Understanding Your Learner: Generation Z in Focus

Families should remember that today’s learners—Generation Z—study differently. We cannot expect children to learn exactly as we once did. Some focus best in silence, others with music or background noise. Some take frequent short breaks to stay alert. Generation Z has grown up in a fast-paced, technology-rich world, and their expectations for learning, engagement, and feedback are different from ours. The key is to observe and understand your child’s learning style and help them find the rhythm that works. Flexibility encourages engagement, self-assurance, and effective preparation.

There is a perceptible shift in the mindset of teachers today, moving away from simply telling learners what to do, toward guiding, mentoring, and understanding the mental makeup of teens. Educators now pay more attention to individual needs, offering advice and reassurance instead of rigid instruction. This shift is vital and bodes well for the future of education.

For families, this is a time to be anchors, not amplifiers of anxiety. Encourage without comparing. Support without pressuring. Listen more than you speak, and let your child know your belief in them does not depend on a percentage. It’s also common for families and their children to clash over study routines or expectations during this period. Small disagreements can quickly escalate if emotions run high. The key is to stay calm, communicate openly, and focus on understanding each other. Families can set expectations gently, while learners can explain their approach and needs. Mutual respect and patience go a long way in reducing tension and keeping preparation on track.

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Schools, Families, and Teachers: Shaping Success Together

For schools, particularly in the UAE, this is a chance to celebrate progress. UAE schools are exceptionally well-structured, with strong academic support, professional guidance, mentoring, and counselling services. From well-planned curricula to learner-focused approaches and holistic development programs, the environment is designed not just for results, but for nurturing resilient, confident young people. Pupils here are fortunate to have such a foundation, and it is up to all of us—teachers, families, and schools—to make the most of it.

Boards will end. Results will come. Some learners will celebrate, others will reflect. Life moves forward—with multiple paths, second chances, and opportunities that no marksheet can fully predict.

As a senior educator, I have seen the incredible potential in our pupils—not just in academics, but in their courage, creativity, and resilience. If we guide them with calm, perspective, and reassurance, this period can become less about fear and more about growth. True achievement is not only in the marks students earn, but in the inner strength, habits, and mindset they carry forward into life.

We are all learning—teachers, families, and learners alike—but we must continue to strive to do more and do better for our pupils. Every step we take to mentor, reassure, and inspire them shapes not just their achievements, but their self-assurance, resilience, and love for learning.

This year, let’s make it different. Let’s answer the clarion call: guide, reassure, and inspire our young people—so that when the boards are over, they walk away not just with results, but with belief in themselves and their future.

Practical takeaway: Organize your time, review steadily, and let each small effort count. Take things one step at a time, and trust yourself—you are capable of more than you think. Marks matter, but so does perspective. Your resilience, curiosity, and sense of humour are what really carry you forward—so don’t forget to smile between revisions !.

Good wishes to all !