What is your choice?

In Washington, DC, at a Metro Station, on a cold morningn Friday, January 12 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

About 3 and half minutes: 

The violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

At 6 minutes: 

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

At 45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.17.

After 1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all. No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars.

Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.

You can read the rest of the article here from Washington Post.

What is your choice?

Do you stop and listen? 

Do you hurry past with a blend of guilt and irritation, aware of your cupidity but annoyed by the unbidden demand on your time and your wallet? 

Do you throw in a buck, just to be polite?

Does your decision change if he's really bad? 

What if he's really good? 

Do you have time for beauty? Shouldn't you? 

Daddy's Day

‘You have done a brilliant work Rajesh. You have been given….rrrrhhhhh……Raaaajjjeeeessshhhh………… Raaaajjjeeeessshhhh .’- what!! I woke up from a sudden jerk. ‘Raaajeeessshhh… .’…I heard my wife yelling. What’s w/ her? Always yelling for something or the other. I can’t be in peace even in my dreams. Shucks!! Angrily, I kicked my blanket and got down. ‘Raaajesssh….’  ‘Coming Meera..what’s w/ you. Why are you shouting like this..’.

I hurried down the stairs.  I saw Meera, my sweet(??!!) wife, sitting in the couch giving breakfast to my 7yr old daughter  Achala. Both looked happy, watching TV.  I got confused at the whole scenario. I came running down, expecting some kind of earthquake, but instead here everything was in place. I looked at my wife & daughter. She smiled at me back.  Now, I more got confused, what’s happening here? Am I in a dream?

‘Meera…’

‘Yeah Rajesh…’

‘You called me. In fact yelled.’

‘Yes. You are right!’

‘Everything is fine here right? Why you screamed like that then…’

‘It’s ‘cos it’s going to be 8am now.’

I couldn’t understand what she was trying to say. Is she playing some kind of prank? Is this the time for all these? I have to be in office by 9am for a meeting.

‘Yes. It’s going to be 8am.Right! So…?’

‘Rajesh, don’t tell me, you forgot…today is 27th ‘

‘27th..What 27th?

‘Don’t tell me you don’t remember?’

Meera gave me an ‘I’ll kill you’ look. Is it her birthday? No it’s somewhere at the year end. Is it my daughter’s? No no , we celebrated last month only right. Got it. Should be our Anniversary.

‘Hey Meera, How will I forget our Anniversary…’

‘Whaattttttt? ???….Anniversaryy yyy???…..’

Got it. It’s not our anniversary. Before I get killed…What’s w/ 27th. What ?? what?? Come on Rajesh!! Think. Nothing hit my mind. I looked at my daughter for a clue. She turned her face away. What’s with all women? Why can’t they be straight forward & say things. With so much work pressure, how on earth I am supposed to remember all the dates?. If I say something, then Meera will pick up a fight, and I will miss the meeting, my whole day will be gone. I made up my mind to surrender.

‘Meera, Sorry, I don’t remember. This medicine I am taking for cough, Something happened..my memory is deteriorating ..What’s today?’  Meera doesn’t seem like buying that excuse from me.

‘Meera, please tell me’ I asked in a pitiable tone.. ‘Rajesh..You don’t remember at all?’  I moved my head left & right meaning NO. I kept my face like I am a patient suffering from ‘amnesia'.

'Rajesh, As part of annual day celebrations, today is 'Daddy's Day' in Acchu's school. I have been telling you for the past 3 weeks. Now don’t tell me you forgot. You already promised that you will go with her to her school'

I couldn’t believe that I accepted for something like that. 'Meeraa..did I??'

'Yes. You did'

‘at what time it starts..?'

'By 8:30am and ends at 1pm'.

Gosh!! 9am!! I have such a critical meeting. How I will attend all these.

“Meera, you could have reminded me yesterday right?’

‘Oh I didn’t remind you? Great. I didn’t call to your office. Or remind you in the evening and before going to bed’

Might be I wouldn’t have heard it. Or slipped out of my memory. Whatever!!

'Meera! Can’t you attend all these. Why should I??'

"Rajesh. It’s Daddy's Day!...DADDY'ss!!!!!'

'Oh yeah....but. ..'

'But what????...'

'errrh....might be some other day...'

'What? You want the school to postpone the function?'

'No..No…actually. .what..I am saying is..'

'What Rajesh??? What?? Tell me. You promised Acchu and are you going to disappoint her? '

I stood there totally helpless. I looked at my daughter. She was all dressed up and ready to go. She looked like, she will cry any time. I saw Meera. She gave me a murderous look. I thought for a moment and my mind raced with many calculations. Important meeting. I can’t miss for sure. Half a day is too much. So many deliverables will get affected. I can’t face Meera again if I don’t go. Might be I can postpone the meeting by an hour and for name sake visit that function and escape to office.

'Meera, I will go, but I can spend only 1 hour..'

'No...that’s not..'

Before Meera finished the sentence, Acchu rushed to me 'Thanks daddy. 1hour. Mom, 1hour is enough mom. Please don’t fight mom. Daddy, get ready soon..' she nudged me.

‘Do you know her school name and the route for the school or you want me to tell???’ Asking that Meera threw me an angry look and left the living room. I rushed up, got ready. Called my manager & told that I got stuck in traffic jam and postponed the meeting to 10am.

I took Achala to her school. I felt somehow entering the school, ‘cos it’s the 2nd time, I am entering her school. In fact 1st time. I once dropped her outside her school gate. The school had a big playground, Small Park with all kids playing equipments. Some stalls were put up. So many kids with their fathers moved around here & there.  Suddenly I felt some one touching my hand

‘Are you achala’s daddy?’ – A small kid asked. She had curly hair and bubbly smile.

‘Yes,,,My Daddy..…’ – Achala responded in an excited tone. And some kids ran towards me and Achala started introducing everyone.

‘Daddy! this is Rohit, this is zakir, Anis, Sylvia, Divya..’ – I told hello to everyone.

‘Daddy, Daddy, Zakir is my best friend.’ – I smiled at that cute blue eyed boy.

‘Uncle, Acchu told that you have so much work and you won’t be able to come. She told she won’t come in today. You don’t have work Uncle?’ –

Zakir asked me.

I suddenly felt very bad on how my daughter has understood me. ‘No Zakir, I don’t have work’

‘Daddy, they are calling for the games. ‘ . Zakir ran to his father and waved his hands at me & achala. I took achala by hand and walked towards the stage. They were announcing the 1st game. Fathers will be given a sheet containing questions about their kids.  Fathers have to fill about their kids which will be verified with the kids response.

Achala was all excited about the game and she was all set to go. But I felt shivers. I looked at my daughter. Suddenly, I felt very far from her, and the reality hit me, that I don’t know anything about my very own daughter. I blurted out ‘Acchu..we will attend the next game..This one ..’ She gave me a deep stare. I thought she is going to cry or shout or do something. But instead she pulled out a small paper from her jeans pocket and gave it to me. Completely baffled, I opened the sheet.

My name is Achala. My birthday March 21st. I am 7yrs old. I like butterfly. Superman. Dairy milk. painting. dancing. I am in  1st standard A section. I like Dora. Mango. Apple. Fried rice. Jelly. I don’t like banana. I drink  boost.. I like yellow color. My nick name is ‘Honey dew’

And the list went on with small, small spelling mistakes. I looked at Acchu. ‘Daddy, read it, I know they will keep this game. So I wrote it 2 days back itself, to give you if you come. If they ask anything about me, write there. Ok Now go & attend the game’. Most of the things, my daughter has written & gave me, I never knew anything about it. I suddenly felt a lump in my throat. I went to the stage waved my hand to Acchu and got the question sheet. Since Acchu gave the sheet, I came to know about her & I answered almost all the questions. Then they asked Acchu on stage and asked the questions to her. We got the 2nd highest mark in that game. Acchu came running towards me and hugged me. They gave a ‘toy guitar’. Everyone congratulated us. Thou’ I won that game, I felt like a loser. I know, I don’t deserve this. I don’t know anything about my daughter.

She looked very happy showing that guitar to her best friend, zakir . What a kid she is. Understanding that her dad is totally hopeless and don’t want to let her dad down, before others she prepared that sheet and gave to me. The lump in my throat started getting bigger and my heart became heavy. I caressed her hair. What a beautiful smile she has and such big eyes. Does she miss a wing to get qualified as an angel? I have never admired my daughter or even watched her in all these years. She has that cute dimple of Meera’s as well as her eyes. Does that curling lip edges when she smiles, is mine? How I missed all this in my life.

Achala pulled me to the stalls there and I got some eatables and ballons for her and zakir.. She kept talking about the next game and suddenly my mobile rang. Oops!! Is it already 10am. I looked at Acchu . Suddenly her face became dark. She looked totally upset and asked in an low voice ‘Daddy! You have to leave now?’

I looked at my mobile. My manager was calling. It’s already 10am. I looked at Acchu. I looked around. All those happy kids with their fathers. I thought about my school days, where my dad used to come for all sports day, annual day, sit with me, cheer me up. Every day morning, while dropping me to school, he will wait near the gate until my head disappear. Evening, he will come & pick me up in his cycle, and I will be telling him all the stories that happened that day in school.

I saw Acchu. How many untold stories my daughter has kept in her heart to say me? I thought about all those days, where I yearned for a girl child and I wonder, how much of my time I gave her.

I pulled her closer, gave a kiss on her fore head ‘No Honey! I am not going. I will be here only…we will attend all games and roam around whole day.ok?’

‘Really?’ – She asked in an unbelievable tone.

‘Yes sweetz’

‘Thank you Daddy!’ – Achala kissed my cheeks and ran to her friends. School teaches you something or the other always. This time, ‘back to school’ has taught me a wonderful life’s lesson. I called my manager & told that am running high fever and can’t come in today. I know, I can handle things tomorrow. Today my daughter needs me more than anyone can need me in this world. With a lighter heart, I got up; ran towards Acchu, lifted her and gave her a big swing. She erupted into an uncontrollable laughter. The lump in my throat started melting away.

Life is often misinterpreted…

We work to live and not live to work…

Search the real meaning of Life…

--Author Unknown

Bouncing Back Quickly to Win « Olympic Motivation

Source: Bouncing Back Quickly to Win « Olympic Motivation

Karoly Takacs. You’ve probably never heard of him. However, in Hungary, he’s a national hero – everybody there knows his name and his incredible story. After reading his story, you’ll never forget him…

In 1938, Karoly Takacs of the Hungarian Army, was the top pistol shooter in the world. He was expected to win the gold in the 1940 Olympic Games scheduled for Tokyo.

Those expectations vanished one terrible day just months before the Olympics. While training with his army squad, a hand grenade exploded in Takacs’ right hand, and Takacs’ shooting hand was blown off.

Takacs spent a month in the hospital depressed at both the loss of his hand, and the end to his Olympic dream. At that point most people would have quit. And they would have probably spent the rest of their life feeling sorry for themselves. Most people would have quit but not Takacs. Takacs was a winner. Winners know that they can’t let circumstances keep them down. They understand that life is hard and that they can’t let life beat them down. Winners know in their heart that quitting is not an option.

Takacs did the unthinkable; he picked himself up, dusted himself off, and decided to learn how to shoot with his left hand! His reasoning was simple. He simply asked himself, “Why not?”

Instead of focusing on what he didn’t have – a world class right shooting hand, he decided to focus on what he did have – incredible mental toughness, and a healthy left hand that with time, could be developed to shoot like a champion.

For months Takacs practiced by himself. No one knew what he was doing. Maybe he didn’t want to subject himself to people who most certainly would have discouraged him from his rekindled dream.

In the spring of 1939 he showed up at the Hungarian National Pistol Shooting Championship. Other shooters approached Takacs to give him their condolences and to congratulate him on having the strength to come watch them shoot. They were surprised when he said, “I didn’t come to watch, I came to compete.” They were even more surprised when Takacs won!

The 1940 and 1944 Olympics were cancelled because of World War II. It looked like Takacs’ Olympic Dream would never have a chance to realize itself. But Takacs kept training and in 1944 he qualified for the London Olympics. At the age of 38, Takacs won the Gold Medal and set a new world record in pistol shooting. Four years later, Takacs won the Gold Medal again at the 1952 Helsinki Olympics. Takacs – a man with the mental toughness to bounce back from anything.

Winners in every field have a special trait that helps them become unstoppable. A special characteristic that allows them to survive major setbacks on the road to success. Winners recover QUICKLY. Bouncing back is not enough. Winners bounce back QUICKLY. They take their hit, they experience their setback, they have the wind taken out of their sails, but they immediately recover. Right away they FORCE themselves to look at the bright side of things – ANY bright side, and they say to themselves, “That’s OK. There is always a way. I will find a way.” They dust themselves off, and pick up where they left off.

The reason quick recovery is important is that if you recover quickly, you don’t lose your momentum and your drive. Takacs recovered in only one month. If he had wallowed in his misery, if he had stayed “under the circumstances,” if he had played the martyr, and felt sorry for himself much longer, he would have lost his mental edge – his “eye of the tiger” and he never would have been able to come back.

When a boxer gets knocked down, he has ten seconds to get back up. If he gets up in eleven seconds, he loses the fight. Remember that next time you get knocked down.

Takacs definitely had a right to feel sorry for himself. He had a right to stay depressed and to ask himself “Why me?” for the rest of his life. He had the right to act like a mediocre man.

Takacs could have let his terrible accident cause him to become permanently discouraged, to take up heavy drinking, to quit on life alltogether, and maybe even to end his own life. He could have acted like a loser.

But Takacs made the DECISION to dig deep inside and to find a solution. To pick himself up and to learn to shoot all over again. Winners always search for a solution. Losers always search for an escape.

Next time you get knocked down, DECIDE you will act like a winner. DECIDE to act like Takacs. Get up quickly, take action, and astou

Alexander and his wishes..

Alexander, the great Greek king after conquering many kingdoms, was returning  home. On the way, he fell ill and it took him to his death bed. With death  staring him in his face, Alexander realized how his conquests, his great  army, his sharp sword and all his wealth were of no consequence.

He now longed to reach home to see his mother's face and bid her his last adieu. But, he had to accept the fact that his sinking health would not  permit him to reach his distant homeland. So, the mighty conqueror lay  prostrate and pale, helplessly waiting to breathe his last. He called his  generals and said, "I will depart from this world soon, I have three wishes, please carry them out without fail." With tears flowing down their cheeks,  the generals agreed to abide by their king's last wishes.

"My first desire is that," said Alexander, "My physicians alone must carry  my coffin." After a pause, he continued, "Secondly, I desire that when my  coffin is being carried to the grave, the path leading to the graveyard be strewn with gold, silver and precious stones which I have collected in my treasury. "The king felt exhausted after saying this. He took a minute's  rest and continued. "My third and last wish is that both my hands be kept  dangling out of my coffin."The people who had gathered there wondered at the  king's strange wishes. But no one dare bring the question to their lips.  Alexander's favorite general kissed his hand and pressed them to his heart.  "O king, we assure you that your wishes will all be fulfilled. But tell us  why do you make such strange wishes?"

At this Alexander took a deep breath and said: "I would like the world to know of the three lessons I have just learnt.

I want my physicians to carry  my coffin because people should realize that no doctor can really cure any  body. They are powerless and cannot save a person from the clutches of  death. So let not people take life for granted.

The second wish of strewing gold, silver and other riches on the way to the graveyard is to tell People that not even a fraction of gold will come with  me. I spent all my life earning riches but cannot take anything with me. Let  people realize that it is a sheer waste of time to chase wealth.

And about my third wish of having my hands dangling out of the coffin, I wish people to know that I came empty handed into this world and empty handed I go out of this world."

Alexander's last words: "Bury my body, do not build any monument, keep my hands outside so that the world knows *the person who won the world had nothing in his hands when dying*"

With these words, the king closed his eyes. Soon he let death conquer him and breathed his last. . . . .

Which window are you looking through?

A young couple moved into a new neighborhood. The next morning while they were eating breakfast, the young woman watched her neighbor hanging wash outside. "That laundry is not very clean," she said. "She doesn't know how to wash correctly. Perhaps she needs better laundry soap." 

Her husband looked on, but remained silent. 

Every time her neighbor would hang her wash to dry, the young woman would make the same comments. 

About one month later, the woman was surprised to see a nice clean wash on the line and said to her husband,

"Look, she has learned how to wash correctly.I wonder who taught her this." 

The husband said, "I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows." 

And so it is with life. What we see when watching others may depend on the purity of the window through which we look. 

The Nail

As the story goes, they built a new church building and people came from far and wide to see it. They admired its beauty! Up on the roof, a little nail heard the people praising everything about the lovely structure-except the nail! No one even knew he was there, and he became angry and jealous.

"If I am that insignificant, nobody will miss me if I quit!" So the nail then released its hold, slid down the roof, and fell in the mud.

That night it rained and rained. Soon, the shingle that had no nail blew away, and the roof began to leak. The water streaked the walls and the beautiful murals. The plaster began to fall, the carpet was stained, and the pulpit Bible was ruined by water. All this because a little nail decided to quit!

But what of the nail? While holding the shingle, it was obscure but it was also useful. Buried in the mud it was just as obscure, but now it was useless and would soon be eaten up by rust!

Moral: Every small thing counts and is as important as the others. You may, like the nail, feel obscure at times, but just like the nail, your absence is felt.