Haircut

 So this evening I decided I needed a haircut. This was much to the annoyance of my wife, who always feels that I do not need one. It often leads to an argument. My hair can be creeping down my back but it is always the same refrain, “it’s already so short”

Being lord and master of myself – or so I think, off I went.

Now let me put things in the right perspective- For me haircuts are a bore, a drag  and a waste of time but a necessity so I endure the 25 minutes or so that it takes.

In my hometown,  as a young boy,  I had my haircut a shop named “UP TO DATE”. He was an old person and definitely OUT OF DATE but  someone once said names are deceiving – don’t ask me who and when .

In Pune, I   resided in The Bishops School campus and the same barber who cut the boys’ hair gave me a haircut as well. He was called “HANDSOME”. I was told that many years ago, some boarders gave him the nickname and it stuck. HANDSOME cut my hair for 20 years and I never complained. He did a good job – he came home and all was well. 

When I moved to Dubai in 2001, I needed a haircut so I went downstairs from where I resided and found a Pakistani barbershop. 19 years later and I now drive 5 km to the same barbershop although there is one just a hundred meters from where I stay. I am sure you have realized by now that I am not fussy where haircuts are concerned.  Actually I don’t have much hair on my head and its pretty fine .

The shop is clean, the barbers are polite and that is all that matters.  I fail to understand what all the fuss is about where haircuts and barbers are concerned.

So back to this evening. Being in Pune and with no HANDSOME around, I walked into the first shop I saw, which was about fifty meters from my house.

Yes, the saloon was clean and busy and that told me he was good! In I went.

Cloth around my neck and neatly tucked in and he stumped me with his first question, “which style Sir “

Now no one has ever asked me this question before. 

It is usually me enter shop, I am wished, I sit down, cloth goes around my neck and in a short while I am out. It’s a no brainer . 

“Which style Sir “was a new one and I said, “TRIM” rather nonchalantly and without looking at him.

He smiled as if to say, “OK you are not fussy” 

Fifteen minutes later I was done. He immediately produced one of those square mirrors to show me the back of my head. I could not care less.  He then asked me if I wanted a head massage to which I agreed. I still do not know why I said yes.

A list of about eight different oils, was rattled off by him. He was a fast talker. The only word I could decipher was COCONUT, so coconut it was.

The oil was poured generously and he massaged, kneaded, manipulated,   rubbed, pounded, banged, pulled, and pressed my scalp in all manners possible. Just when I was about to say THANK YOU, he produced a small machine from a draw. Strapping it on to his hand, he then began rubbing it all over my head – my forehead, my neck, my scalp, my ears and the top of my eyebrows. It jarred, hummed and frightened me. 

Not sure why, but he kept on and on as if he was intent on scooping out my brains and presenting them to me on a silver platter as a giveaway gift.

Then, without warning, and so much as a” MAY I”, he stopped the assault. I was alive. 

He smiled. I attempted a weak smile in reply.

He handed me a comb and with trembling hands, I combed my hair half expecting my brains to fall out at any minute  

I paid and I tipped him, thankful that all was well.  Before leaving, I gave one last look at myself in the mirror. My face looked chalky white and my pupils were dilated.

I reached home and my wife said “Oh my God, he has cut your hair is so short.

Give me a break – Please.

I looked in the mirror again – Yes I looked good !

The doll

 Let me come to the point straight away. We had a doll in the house and eerie things began happening after we planned to get rid of it, and that’s what this is about.

So, let’s get to the beginning. Jerry was a vinyl, ‘boy doll’, and quite good looking! He was about a foot long, the size of a small baby, dressed in blue, and all cute and cuddly, with deep blue eyes, and a lovely expression on his face. The doll was a gift for my elder daughter on her third birthday, and she loved it. In fact, it was her first gift that year, and hence extra special. She spent hours playing and talking to it, as all young girls do. As young parents, we attended doll tea parties and doll birthdays, and it was fun and cute. The children’s’ friends came over with their dolls too and the kids spent many an enjoyable holiday in their make-believe world. 

Then we had our second baby girl, a few years later, and the doll was passed on. In fact, both played with it for years. As and when necessary, it was washed in soap and water, dried in the sun, and dressed in a fresh set of baby clothes.

After being with us for about 8 years or so, Jerry was worn out, and was soon relegated to being ‘an old toy’, as both girls took to ‘Barbies’ in a big way. Jerry was never played with, began looking dusty, neglected, and dirty. However, whenever we went to throw it out, or give it away, we never did, due to sentimental reasons. The girls refused to part with it. 

This is where this story takes an unmistakeably sinister turn. 

One morning we found “Jerry boy” as he was affectionately called, with his neck off! Now mark you - we had no dog or cat in the house and the doll had been relegated to the corner of a  top shelf in a large wooden cupboard. Rather than keep it like that, my wife picked up a needle and thread, stitched the neck firmly back on and put the doll back in the cupboard. We forgot about the incident for a few months.   Lo and behold, when we decided to dispose of the cupboard and get a replacement, everything was taken out of the cupboard and put on the bed. Amidst all the clothes, we spotted Jerry- with his neck about to fall off once again. Something just did not seem right. This transpired on two more occasions – the last time it did, the clothes were all torn, and the face scratched. It could have been my imagination, but I felt that the lips seemed darker than normal, and the eyebrows slightly raised and pulled together. That was the icing on the cake. I immediately had the doll put in a large plastic bag and without telling the two girls, I threw it in the bin outside. Luckily, the garbage van was there at the very moment, and we never saw or heard of ‘Jerry boy’ again. 

We then shifted to another house, and all was well for a few months. Then, surprise of surprises, we came home from school one afternoon & saw a doll in the house. It was a blond haired, light eyed, porcelain doll, had on a pink lace dress, and looked new.  We had a house maid, and when we asked her where it had come from, she was as confused as us. My elder daughter said that she had taken it out from a box in the   toy cupboard. However far- out the explanation, we had no reason to disbelieve her, and presumed that one of their friends had probably left it at our place after the last sleep over and would collect it on her next visit.

 It looked adorable. 

As it was never claimed, we were left with no other alternative but to keep it, it assuming that it could   have been a birthday gift, that we had somehow overlooked. The girls played with it now and then and all was honky dory. It sat with the large collection of barbies on a low shelf and somehow fitted in, despite being the odd one out.   

Then we went for the summer vacation and by the time we returned, the doll seemed to have taken on a life of its own. Now first and foremost it was one of those old-fashioned talking dolls. The doll's talking mechanism was activated by a small button on its back. Pressing the button turned a grooved disc inside the doll's body, and a metal needle produced sound from the disc by traveling through the grooves. What was odd was the fact that although the doll spoke English, it was with a strange accent. There were two prerecorded sentences. the first was ‘Hello, my name is Mia’. The second was, “I want to play with you.” Those were followed by the doll laughing! If you ask me, the laughter was hideous and quite repulsive, but the girls laughed along and seemed to enjoy it so who was I to complain! 

The first time this happened we woke with a start. It was well past midnight when the doll, which was lying at the corner of the bed, occupied by the kids, started talking and laughing! It spoke the same two sentences repeatedly - and as for the laugh itself- it scared me. 

I have always imagined myself as some sort of a detective, so I worked it out, much to the chagrin of my wife, that one of the kids had woken from her sleep, played with the doll, activated the talk button, and then dozed off. Nevertheless, we did not put too much thought into the incident and dozed off again. We woke with a start at about five am with the doll on the ground and yes, it was talking again and oh that sinister laughter! 

I managed to convince my wife using the same logic once again, that it was just a bizarre coincidence, that had happened twice in one night.

I am not going to draw this out, but this doll often began talking at abnormal times - at night, in the afternoon, when it was in the cupboard and even when we placed it in the showcase! At times we only heard the awful laughter. I would then jump and switch it off.

Our younger daughter found this quite amusing while the elder one felt that our fears were unfounded, although unable to come up with any fathomable or plausible explanation herself.   

As there was no sentimental attachment to this doll, and we were leaving for Dubai in a week, we left it in the house along with a few other toys, rather than throw it away.

The next tenant probably found it. Not sure if it is still talking and laughing or whether that show was only for our benefit. 

Would love to know.

Unadulterated insanity

 In oft-traversed, not-so-distant lands 

Power-hungry leaders roar their might, 

Unheeding of the world's condemning cries.

These ‘gentlemen’ care a hoot for human plight,

As thousands fall beneath unyielding skies.

Visibly ruthless forces, 

Stone-deaf to reasons' plea,

 Pursue their callous goals 

While innocents bleed.

Silent screams buried beneath the rubble

Of homes, hospitals, and schools

And deep anguish etched into the faces of the living.

Children's laughter, silenced by pain, 

Their futures shattered, lost to greed's gain.

Grim reapers- in uniform- marching with iron resolve.

Shadows of fallen comrades haunt the battlefield

The stench of decay and the cries of the wounded

Rent the fetid air

While lifeless eyes stare into the void of perpetuity.

Civilians - unwittingly caught in wars they did not make,

 Their lives - consumed in conflict's cruel fire,

 While pompous leaders- far from danger's line

 Partake in games of power, fanned by dark desire.

The world observes with bated breath.

Another World war in the offing? 

What does the future hold?

No one has a clue.

World leaders berate – some with veiled threats

Yet nothing more.

The truth obscured by the media's shifting veil, 

Economies eroded amidst these senseless wars,

While millions of fates are balanced on the scale.

Is this what the quatrains in "Les Prophéties,"

Predicted would happen? 

Or was the 16th-century seer

Attempting to read tea leaves in a hurricane? 

Can one or two decide the fate of a multitude,

 And plunge the world into never-ending strife?

When will this madness cease to intrude thus? 

Who stands in right or wrong?

 Who holds the key? 

The answers are lost in deceit, fears, and lies. 

This is pure, unadulterated, insanity

And it sickens me to the gills.

mg

It's okay

                            It’s Okay

It's okay if they judge you 

And proclaim their judgment to the world.

Some people are determined to be

Judge, jury, and executioner 

And so be it. 

Learn to be okay with silence, 

For silence is a gift denied to many.

It’s perfectly okay

With the world not knowing your side of the story

 Not every truth needs the light of the sun,

Or exposure to the elements 

 Nor every heart, the weight of proving right.

 Within you lies peace- a quiet strength,

And peace is a gift denied to many.

So, learn to live your life

Both silently and peacefully.

 Not measured by the eyes of those who watch

Unburdened by the need to show,

To justify, explain, or to defend,

Thus, freeing yourself from the chains of others' thoughts.

Release the urge to prove or to persuade.

To convince or reassure. 

Your worth is not defined by what they see

What they imagine 

And what they say.  

In tranquility, find the calm that silence brings,

 For you alone can know your inner truth.

In moments serene, let your spirit breathe,

 Unburdened by the weight of others' views.

 The light within will guide your every step,

 Embrace its glow, and let your soul renew.

Value the life you lead

 While we’re busy cursing our luck and our lives,

 And blaming the Fates, the Gods, and the stars above 

For perceived and often fictitious miseries-

Probably figments of our imagination, 

Someone is out there,

Barely struggling to survive

Fighting losing battles

And envying all we have. 

Our looks, our hair, our nose, our eyes, our smile.

Our dimples, our freckles, our frowns

 Our homes, our families, our jobs, and our friends.

 These are God-given treasures that we ignore daily. 

And so very often

Perceived as irksome and vexatious.

They dream of the things we take for granted daily,

Their silent wishes echo in the night. 

For every sigh we breathe in utter despair,

 There's someone who would trade their sorrows.

 just to be in ours.

 So, let’s pause and ponder.

  On the myriad gifts we hold.

The simple blessings scattered throughout our day.

And our life…. 

 The morning light that warms our sleepy eyes,

 The laughter shared with those we dearly love, 

The meals enjoyed, 

the comforts of hearth and home. 

These are the riches many only dream.

 A thousand unseen eyes look on with hope, 

Their envy is pure- a testament to us. 

Let’s be not blind to all that we possess,

 For gratitude can turn the tide of thought.

 In moments dark, we should remember what we have,

 And know that in this world of varied fates,

 We are blessed in ways we can't imagine yet. 

The grass may seem much greener far away,

 But every blade is rooted in its place. 

So, let’s embrace the life we live. 

With pure and open hearts,

 For even in the mundane, there is grace.

 Let’s try and be grateful for the things.

 that seem so small,

 For in their light, our lives are truly blessed.

OPPEN LETTER TO CBSE PUPILS

 Dear CBSE students,

The CBSE Grade 10 and 12 results are finally out, so let me begin by congratulating all involved. No board exams are easy, and everyone breathes easier when they are finally over.

Principals, staff, and students have worked hard throughout the year, so now is the time to celebrate, sit back, relax, and let it all sink in. Parents, too, must be relieved. Often, it’s the parents who worry more than their children, both before and after the examination – and who can blame them!

The day this year’s results were declared took me back a few decades, to when I passed my ISC examination in the city of Allahabad in India. Back then, the internet hadn’t been invented yet, and when news spread that the results were out, we rushed to school to see how we had fared.

Results were always printed out and stuck up on the school noticeboard, where crowds of parents, staff, and pupils jostled to see the outcome. Luckily, I passed, but my marks were nowhere near what pupils routinely score today.

Yes, in my day, there were quite a few fails in almost all schools. A 100% pass rate was a rarity, a centum in any subject even rarer. When a pupil scored above 90% in any subject, there was genuine jubilation and exultation, and people couldn’t stop talking about how smart he or she was. If you managed to get a 1st Division, which meant 60% and above, you were considered a success. Your future looked bright. College admissions were guaranteed.

How times have changed!

Today, the media headlines are filled with the percentages and photographs of toppers – 98.6%, 98.4%, 98.3%. Such high numbers of pupils achieve a centum in one or more subjects that it’s now quite common.

When you look at the results in detail, you see that hundreds of pupils score more than 95% overall and in various subjects, and yet they get no mention in the news. After all, how many success stories can a school or newspaper cover?

The question, then, is, what about the rest of the students? Hundreds of thousands of students appeared for the Grade 10 and 12 exams this year, and clearly not all scored in the 90s.

Indeed, you may be one of the many pupils who are bemoaning the fact that you ‘didn’t fare well’. You may be one of the ones who scored 60%, 70%, 80%. Maybe you’re now despondent, demoralized, depressed even, because your friends and peers have done better than you. Perhaps you fear you may not gain admission to the college of your choice.

At this juncture, my advice is to take a breath and think of all the hard work you have put in. The long hours of study, the pages and pages of notes, the practice papers you agonised over, the extra lessons you attended.

But success comes in many forms. Your sincerity and dedication have brought you to this point, and that's something to be proud of. Exams are just one measure of your abilities, and they certainly don’t define your worth or potential.

Each of you has unique talents and strengths that go far beyond anything that can be captured on a test paper. So, use this experience as a stepping stone for growth and learning.

Remember, setbacks are growth opportunities. Reflect on everything you’ve accomplished and identify areas where you can improve – but don’t be too hard on yourself. Celebrate your achievements, no matter how big or small they may seem to you today.

If you feel you won’t get into the college you’ve set your sights on, so be it. Look elsewhere – there are always other options. Keep believing in yourself, stay focused on your goals, and continue to work hard. Your journey is far from over, and there are countless opportunities ahead.

You are unique and have your worth, irrespective of the marks you get. You have the potential to be a top entrepreneur, technician, singer, musician. A psychologist, social scientist, dancer, inventor. The possibilities and opportunities truly are endless.

And don’t let social pressure weigh heavily on your shoulders. Right now, you may feel you’re under scrutiny, under pressure to meet the expectations of those around you. But it’s essential to recognise that your family and friends love you for who you are and not just for the grades you score.

Late bloomers often feel discouraged by societal timelines and benchmarks, so typical of this day and age. Let me tell you, however, that success has no expiration date. Some of the greatest achievements in history have been made by individuals who took their time to find their passion and purpose in life. Many, if not all, faced failures along the way.

Your journey is unique and it’s perfectly okay to take time to figure out your path. Marks and percentages are but one piece of the puzzle, and while they have their part to play, they do not define who you are.

If I had given up each time I faced a roadblock or failure in my life – and there have been many – I wouldn’t be sitting here now writing this letter to you. Persistence and belief in myself have helped me succeed.

And I was never a topper.

Thomas Mathew

Lalitha Suresh

GEMS Our Own English High School, Dubai

GEMS Our Own Indian School

GEMS Our Own English High School - Sharjah - Boys

Gems Ois

 Our Own English High School, Sharjah - Girls

 Our Own High School, Al Warqa'a

 THE MILLENNIUM SCHOOL, DUBAI

 GEMS Millennium School, Sharjah

GEMS NEW Millennium school Al khail

Leadership

 LEADERSHIP 

Are you content being a member of the team, or do you want to be captain? 

Are you delighted being a player or do you desire to be a game changer? 

Are you better at carrying out instructions or would you prefer to be the one deciding on what needs to be done, and how best to accomplish the task?

Now, it is not everyone who wants to be a leader – it is not everyone’s cup of tea - some just do not have it in him or her and are just not cut out for leadership. They are others who are very happy as they are, and that is fine. 

On the other hand, there are several who aspire to become Leaders – the fire burns brightly within them from an early age.   A few succeed and others fall by the wayside or remain half-baked leaders for life. That they are not aware of their shortcomings is a different matter altogether.  

There is something I have always said – ‘Aspiring to be a leader is fine – however preparation and readiness is key.’ 

Often, when young people join the workplace, they look at the leaders in the organization and the first thing they say is, ‘How lucky they are’ .

Now let us be frank- Leadership and luck are not synonymous. Yes, there is no denying the fact that there would probably be a certain amount of luck involved – like being at the right place at the right time, hearing about the opening before anyone else, knowing the boss or doing surprisingly well in a difficult interview. Leaders usually never depend on luck, they take advantage of it if they can, but it is not part of their original strategy, it is a bonus. 

There are innumerable exemplary leaders, who have been born with a silver spoon in their mouth or have had it handed to them on a platter, and they are very successful too- Good for them. 

However, Leadership is a privilege and not a right. It is more about working smart and less about accolades, titles, bonuses and fancy, gold edged, business cards! 

 

 The majority of leaders have started from scratch, gone through the grind, risen up through the ranks, failed many times, faced rejection, felt miserable at not being able to make it and then finally one fine day, they have scaled the summit!  

I have had the opportunity to be in Educational Leadership for a number of years and this is what I have deduced.  

Most leaders worth their salt, have all been good contributors first. 

They have proven that they have the expertise, are able team players, and are reliable.

They have exhibited strong people skills and have worked on developing them further. 

They have demonstrated that they work well under pressure, are consistent and dependable. 

When assigned a task, they deliver the goods and get the job done as efficiently as possible.  

They learn to tackle problems as and when they arise, and can either find, or contribute towards finding solutions. 

They do not watch the clock, and are always ready to take on new projects, even though they may have to learn from scratch as to what needs to be done. 

They lead by example and are proactive and decisive.

They keep it simple- no needless jargon.

They display compassion, empathy and a deep concern for others.

Failure does not scare them. 

They are not intimidating in their approach, nor are they unnecessarily confrontational. 

They are kind, genial and approachable but no pushovers. 

At meetings they are not decorative pieces or just wallflowers – they contribute effectively.  

They have warm personalities and people gravitate towards them. 

They have a sense of humour and are not afraid to laugh at themselves. 

They are thinkers but at the same time, they do not unnecessarily procrastinate.

They speak intelligently & do not shoot their mouth off at every opportunity.

They are good listeners and are known to consider all angles before concluding. 

They are always eager and ready to learn.

They are proficient at multi-tasking. 

I have always found Leadership to be  exciting, challenging & something that  keeps me on my  toes. 

Lastly, it has a lot to do with Service, Humility, Respect, and Gratitude.