One of the best motivational speeches you'll ever hear.

Al Pacino in 'Just another Sunday'

I dont know what to say,really,
3 minutes to the biggest battle of our professional lives,
All comes down to today
Either, we heal, as a team, or we're gonna crumble
Inch by Inch,
Play by play
Till we're finished,
We're in hell right now,
Gentlemen, believe me
We can stay here,
Get the shit kicked out of us
or
We can fight our way back
into the light
We can climb outta hell one inch at a time
Now, i cant do it for you
I'm too old
I look around,
I see this young faces,and i think
I mean,i've made every wrong choice a middle-aged man can make
I..I pissed away all my money,
Believe it or not
I chased off anyone's who's ever loved me
And lately,I cant even stand the face I see in the mirror
You know, when you get old in life,things get taken from you
Well thats..thats part of life
But, you only learn that,when you start losing stuff
You find out, life's a game of inches
So is football
Because, in either game,life or football,
the margin for error is so small,

I mean, one half a step too late, or too early, and you dont quite make it,
One half second too slow, too fast, you dont quite catch it,
The inches we need are everywhere around us...
They're in every break of the game, every minute, every second....
On this team, we fight for that inch...
On this team, we tear ourselves and everyone else around us,
To pieces for that inch...
We claw with our fingernails for that inch...
Because we know,when we head up all those inches,
Thats gonna make the fucking difference, between winning and losing!

Between living and dying!!
I'll tell you this: in any fight,
Its the guy who's willing to die,who's gonna win that inch...
And I know, if im gonna have any life anymore
Its because I'm still willing to fight and die for that inch...
Because, thats what living is!
The six inches in front of your face...!!

Now, i cant make you do it,
You gotta look at the guy next to you,
Look into his eyes! Now
I think you're gonna see a guy,
Who will go that inch with you...
You're gonna see a guy, who will sacrifice himself,
For this team, because he knows,
When it comes down to it,
You're gonna do the same for him...

Thats a team, gentlemen...
and, either we heal,NOW, as a team, or we will die...as individuals...thats football, Guys...thats all it is...now, what are you gonna do?

Vodafone - Elevator Song

A neat little song from a vodafone Ad. Does anyone know anything more about it?

Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words will break our hearts...

There is an interesting sequence in the movie 'Taare Zameen Par', when Aamir talks about bringing down trees by just screaming at it . Curiousity got the better of me, and i decided to google for it. Here's what i could find.

The following is a chapter from the book "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten" by Robert Fulghum. Thought that many of you out here may also find something in this:
quote:

In the Solomon Islands in the South Pacific some villagers practice a unique form of logging. If a tree is too large to be felled with an ax, the natives cut it down by yelling at it. Woodsmen with special powers creep up on a tree just at dawn and suddenly scream at it at the top of their lungs. They continue this for thirty days. The tree dies and falls over. The theory is that the hollering kills the spirit of the tree. According to the villagers, it always works

The Solomon Islanders may have a point. Yelling at living things does tend to kill the spirit in them. It's hard to believe, but i feel there is a lot of truth in it.

Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words will break our hearts...

The Charge of the Light Brigade

Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward,All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred."Forward, the Light Brigade!"Charge for the guns!" he said:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismay'd?Not tho' the soldier knew Someone had blunder'd:Their's not to make reply,Their's not to reason why,Their's but to do and die:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,Flash'd as they turn'd in air,Sabring the gunners there,Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd:Plunged in the battery-smokeRight thro' the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReel'd from the sabre stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,While horse and hero fell,They that had fought so wellCame thro' the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade?O the wild charge they made! All the world wondered.Honor the charge they made,Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred.

- Lord Alfred Tennyson

Where The Mind is Without Fear

This is one of my personal favourites.

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow
domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the
dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought
and action--
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

- Rabindranath Tagore

This poem is from Gitanjali, literature. Offering of Songs, published in English in1910.Biography: Tagore, Rabindranath (1861-1941), Indian poet, philosopher, and Nobel laureate, was born in Calcutta, into a wealthy family. He began to write poetry as a child; his first book appeared when he was 17 years old. After a brief stay in England (1878) to study law, he returned to India, where he rapidly became the most important and popular author of the colonial era, writing poetry, short stories, novels, and plays. He composed several hundred popular songs and in 1929 also began painting. Tagore wrote primarily in Bengali, but translated many of his works into English himself. He was awarded the 1913 Nobel Prize in literature, and in 1915 he was knighted by the British king George V. Tagore renounced his knighthood in 1919 following the Amritsar massacre of 400 Indian demonstrators by British troops. Some of his more famous works are 'Balaka', 'Sonar Tari', 'Chitali', and 'Gitanjali'. His selected poems 'Sanchaita', and selected short stories 'Galpagucha' were published in India 1966. Two of his songs are national anthem of India and Bangladesh. In 1901 Rabindranath Tagore founded a school at Santiniketan, West Bengal, India, which later developed into an international institution called Visva Bharati, where he tried to revive the spirit of education of ancient India, the famed "Gurukula" system, when students spent their childhood at their teacher's house and studied there.

There is a pleasure

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea,and music in its roar;
I love not man the less,
but Nature more,
From these our interviews,in which I steal,
From all I may be,
Or have been before,
To mingle with the universe and feel,
What i can never express,
Yet cannot all conceal.

- Lord Byron

Return of the Prodigal...

It's been over one year, one year and four days to be exact (ref: heart of a champion), when I promised to myself, that I would never to watch Indian cricket again...but I really couldn't!! As the Men in [Black and] Blue played one series after another..I realized I had lost the interest in the game.. the passion I had for the team was no longer there.

Honest talks had given way to 'SPEAKING RIGHT'...the huddle had given itself away to petty politics..just one big muck and a lot of mud slinging..finally when the team was cremated four to nothing during the African safari..it was time for the return of the Prodigal

Out of the airplane to the ground, and then a courageous 83 to boot that, set the tone for the revival of Indian cricketing fortunes. Young hearts took cue, and there we saw the most amazing turnaround, shepherding the tail brilliantly, the Indian team responded with their first victory at Potchefstroom, South Africa.

The first test was another witness to the strength 'SOURAV GANGULY' brings to the team, especially to those with burning fire in their hearts and we all know how the next Sree [after our very dear Srinath of yore], responded beautifully after Ganguly's resplendent innings.

Just to quote Muhammed Ali .."Only a man who knows what it is like to be defeated can reach down to the bottom of his soul and come up with the extra ounce of power it takes to win when the match is even."

But for dada..the match was never even.

The heart of a champion

There were countless thoughts in his mind, but he had to let them be, he could not rely on them now! There was no time for it. He needed to be strong, strong at heart. He had to muster all he had. There were too many of them, too many heartless people thirsting for his failure. Some were people in great power, and some were those who LOVE to hate.

They were just a bunch of ruthless people, all waiting to finish him.

Vulnerable, we are but mortals, all of us have our weakness.

The opposition erupted into raptures, as a lone figure walked into the field. His enemies smirked, knowing this was their day.

He had a weakness and the opposition knew it all too well.

Though his thoughts were weighing him down, his heart was true. He fought them hard, giving his enemies no respite. Light was slowly giving away to darkness, but the warrior was firm.

On the other side, his comrade were felled ruthlessly .

Finally darkness clouded over, it was time for rest.

They had failed to finish him.

The battle began early next day. The early morning was the perfect time to exploit the warrior’s weakness. They tried, tried hard, but to no avail. He had battled them all too well.

But, suddenly, the champion fell. Fall, did he, but not before wearing down his enemies, not before he had put his side to safety.

He was my hero for years, and always will be. He had the heart of a fighter and the spirit of a champion. A great leader and a just man. He had taken charge of a group of directionless souls, and moulded them into a great unit. He has too many enemies now. Sooner or later, they are bound to prevail, but for me, he lives on.

Thus goes a quote ‘Everybody loves to see a hero fall’. But not this time..not this time.

Madly in love..

A song from the past..will always linger within ..everytime you see her..

OST Notting Hill

She
May be the face I can't forget
The trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay

She
May be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day

She
May be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell

She
may be the mirror of my dreams
The smile reflected in a stream

She
may not be what she may seem Inside her shell

She
Who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry

She
May be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I'll remember till the day I die

She
May be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough in ready years

Me
I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be The meaning of my life is

She She, oh she

Being in love

You wake up to a very abnormal day, getting late for work..you rush into everything..till time stands still when you're waiting for your bus..

Then.. you see this girl..

You really don't know what to do..what to say..just seem to forget everything.. now so eager to be late to work..so that you can get a chance to get a glimpse of her...

You desire nothing more from life then..

A few days later, your logical sense tries to take over you..and you fight it everytime..everytime you get restless waiting for that fleeting moment in eternity..

Your senses are to numb to react...to react to anything material..you are so lost in the beautiful world you've created within you..

Through the ages.... there have been countless people who've had this feeling within themselves..countless odes written..it's a moment so pure..so untouched..it's your own world..

It's like another new born..unaware of the scheming ways of the world..of the mind..

It's upto us to protect it..nurture it..help it grow strong and true..make it able to stand the test of time..

Many of us realize the meaning of what we possesed only after we've so carelessly given it up..and when we do our world turns upside down...we are so lost ..so out of control in life..

Writing this.. just got something into my head..an interesting tale..

At the end of school...the wise teacher tells his students to pick up the tallest shaft of wheat from the field and get it to him..

As the students went along the field, they saw many tall shafts but did not pick it up..thinking they would find a taller one..in the end many did get anything back to the teacher....

He sent them out again..

This time..everyone..got a shaft of wheat..even though they were not the tallest..

....Hold on to your love and let it grow....cause the happiness you were looking for ..was always right beside you...