Fly Away!

Long ago, there lived a king in Persia who was much loved by his subjects. The kingdom was once visited by a wise man. He presented the king with two falcons and said to the king, “These birds have been trained to fly for long distances, deliver messages and return. Consider them as my gift to you, oh beloved king!”

The king was delighted. He rushed down to the stables the next day, to see the falcons fly. But alas, while one falcon soared in the sky with its wings outstretched in a majestic fashion, the other falcon simply refused to move. Whatever the trainer tried, the falcon refused to budge.

Now, the king was unhappy. The next day, he called in the best falcon trainers in the kingdom. Their end goal was supposedly simple – “You have to get the second falcon to fly”. They tried for a whole week and failed.

The king grew more desperate. He could not fathom the reason why the second falcon wouldn’t fly. He called in the best medicine men in the kingdom to examine the bird for any injuries. After two weeks, the medicine men concluded that there was nothing wrong with the bird. The falcon refused to fly, apparently out of its own free will.

Over the course of the next month, nearly everything was tried. The falcon was not given food. The falcon was made to overeat. Specially prepared gels and ointments were applied on its wings. None of the measures yielded any results. The falcon still sat doggedly on a tree by the stable with its wings folded and tucked-in. It simply refused to fly.

In one final desperate move, the king made an announcement calling for ‘anybody’ who can get the falcon to fly, promising a handsome reward for the man/woman who could do it.

Upon seeing the advertisement, a simpleton farmer came to the king’s court the next day. This farmer proclaimed that he could get the falcon to fly and asked for a chance to see the bird. The king was surprised; the most experienced zoo keepers, wisest doctors and expert bird trainers had tried to get the falcon to fly and failed. And this simple farmer was so confident about getting the task done.

But the king wanted to see what he could do. Besides, it really wouldn’t hurt to try.

So, the farmer was taken to the stable. He asked to be left alone with the bird. The king went back to his palace. He nervously paced up and down, racking his brains as to what the farmer might possibly be doing. After 30 minutes, he went back to the stable. And to his surprise, the second falcon was flying high in the sky.

“My king, I claim my rightful reward”, said the farmer. The king handed over 50 gold coins and asked him excitedly, “But how did you do it?”

“My king, it’s simple. I picked up this axe and cut the tree branch on which the falcon was sitting”

And thus, the supposedly complex problem had a simple solution.

How often do we sit perched on our branches, holding on to our support system, refusing to get out of our comfort zone just because we are scared of what lies ahead? The strongest principle of growth lies in human choice. We choose to not do something, because we are busy, because it is hard, or because we do not know if we will succeed or fail.

Imagine the world if Christopher Columbus, Vasco da Gama, Ferdinand Magallen and all those countless voyagers were to sit at home, and not set out on those paths of discovery, for fear of what lay outside the safety of their homeland. We’d probably still be sitting at home, believing the world consisted of just our neighbors, or that the world was flat.

So the next time you decide that something is too hard, or not worth your while, think about the second falcon. And make a start, cut that branch, spread your wings, fly and discover your true potential. The only limitations in life are the ones we create, believe, and nourish within our own minds.

The rock band, The Calling puts it well in their song “Our Lives” when they say

In this world divided by fear, we've got to believe that

There's a reason we're here

'Cause these are the days worth living

These are the years we're given

And these are the moments

These are the times

Let's make the best out of our lives

And when we’re falling from the tree and wondering if we’re going to learn to fly or not, remember, even if you fall on your face, you are still moving forward.

Work for it!

Wilma Rudolph was the twentieth of 22 children born into an impoverished black family in Tennessee.  Those were the times of acute racial discrimination in the US. The blacks were underprivileged, and despite paying the same amount of taxes as the whites, they had very limited or no access to most facilities. Even the schools of the Southern states were segregated – black students and white students had to attend separate schools. The schools for black students were usually poorly funded, so they were less likely to have adequate books, teachers, classrooms, or equipment. 

Wilma was determined not to let any of them hinder her success. But fate had other plans for her. As a child, she contracted polio and was forced to wear leg braces until she was nine. Her sister was in the basketball team and so she decided to join too. At twelve, she tried out for her school's basketball team and failed. For the next year she practised every day, until her knees hurt and her feet ached so bad that she could barely stand. Her hard work paid off, and at the try outs the following year, she finally made the team. 

Ed Temple, a college athletics coach spotted her one day and talked her into letting him train her to be a sprinter.  Her persistence earned her a scholarship to Tennessee State University where she became a track star.  In 1960, she made the US Olympic team. In the 100-metre sprint she had to face Jutta Heine of Germany, the world record holder. 

But Wilma won-and she did it again in the 200-metre event! 

Wilma's third race was the 100-metre relay, where she again faced Jutta. 

Just as the baton was handed to Wilma she dropped it, giving Jutta the lead.  She had a choice there. She’d already won two gold medals and beaten Jutta at both of them. This win wouldn’t make a difference to her. And she’d already lost precious time in dropping it and picking it. Did she need to continue the race and speed up? But Wilma knew she had just one choice. To go forward and work for it. Her never-give-up spirit made her pick up the baton and take off in desperate pursuit.

She caught the German runner in the last few strides and won the third gold medal-more than any other woman had won at that time. 

Wilma Rudolph, the young black woman became famous as the fastest woman in the world, and the first American woman to win three gold medals in track and field in a single Olympic games.

Wilma became a grandmother and travelled the world for children's causes, motivating them with her story.  'I let them know that they can achieve it, as long as they're willing to work for it.'

Why is it that failure destroys some people, yet makes others stronger? 

The secret perhaps is that they allow failure to become their teacher, and turn their defeats into learning experiences.  When we’re faced with a roadblock, overcoming it depends not so much on how well things work in our favour, but on how much we are willing to work to achieve that goal. How we choose to see that roadblock – as the end of the road, or as a stepping stone to our success.

89 years ago, one man had a dream. A dream that most people did not value enough. They told him it’s tough, it won’t work out, that he’d better give up on it. But he chose to pursue that dream, not just for himself, but for everyone who was a part of that dream. Yes, the dream I'm talking about is Toastmasters and the man is none other than Ralph C. Smedley. He dreamed a dream of bringing out the orator in every shy speaker he met. He believed that we are all diamonds, diamond that are rough; but with a little bit of polish, we’d shine bright through the night. The movement he started in 1924 in the basement of a YMCA building caught on, and today, it’s spread over 116 countries and is growing by the minute. He achieved his dream because he worked for it.

Imagine a world in which you were to get everything you wanted without even asking for it. Would you value it as much then? I remember as a child my parents, as a joke, told us they’d give us money for every house hold task we’d do. Minimal amounts, but we were excited. I never used that money since I never really had need for it. But the fact remains that since I had worked for it, I valued it.

I was watching a video recently in which different genres of people were asked what they would do if they were given a Rs. 500 /- note. The video started with the affluent who felt 500 was too small an amount to do anything worthwhile. It moved on to the middle class people who said they’d watch a movie or go bowling or go for an outing. It finally moved on to the lower class and kids of the slum. Their answers were filled with “I’ll get new shoes for my brother”, “I’ll buy provisions for the house”, “I’ll get school books for all the kids in my class”. The same note, but the value it had for each of them was different.

In the same way, no one knows the true value of your dreams except you. There will always be people who will tell you “It’s a stupid dream”, “It’s not possible”, or “It’s too hard”, “You’re wasting your time”. But remember, it’s your dream not theirs, so it’s up to you to put in the work to make that dream a reality. Even a diamond is just a stone... until it is polished. And then it’s true worth is known. If you’re willing to work for it, nothing is impossible.  And frankly, if it was that easy to achieve, would you even value such a dream? It probably wouldn’t even have been your dream in the first place! It’s because of the amount of work involved that it is your dream! There are no shortcuts to any place worth going. The difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little ‘extra’. Every “overnight success” has several nights of hard work and sweat behind it.

All the so-called "secrets of success" will not work unless you do. Thomas Jefferson put it very aptly when he said “The harder I work, the more luck I have”. So Dream your dream, and then be ready to WORK FOR IT.

SANTA: Does he exist?

“Nah na na na na! There is no Santa Claus. Even dummies know that!”

His big sister had just dropped the bomb. Her words kept reverberating in his ears. 8 year old Bobby was highly upset. Tears streaming down his face, little Bobby ran down the street all the way to his grandma’s place. Now, Bobby knew that grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. He fled to her that day because he knew she would be straight with him. He knew Grandma always told the truth, and he also knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. Yummm!

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, he told her everything. She was ready for him. "No Santa Claus!" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad.” Like most grandmas, Bobby’s grandma too had a trick up her sleeve. “Put on your coat, and let's go", she told Bobby.

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" Bobby asked. He hadn't even finished his second cinnamon bun!

"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything.

As they walked through its doors, Grandma handed Bobby ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. “Take this money and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

Now, Bobby was just eight years old. He had often gone shopping with his mother before, but never had he shopped for anything all by himself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. He stared at the baubles and tinsel, the mistletoe and holly, the gigantic Christmas tree and the many other decorations in the store. For a few moments he just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.

He thought of everybody he knew: his family, his friends, his neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to his church. He was just about thought out, when he suddenly thought of Eric Decker. Eric Decker was that kid. That kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind Bobby in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.

Eric Decker didn't have a coat. Bobby knew that because Eric never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all the kids knew that Eric Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat.

Bobby fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. “I will buy Eric Decker a coat.” He settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and Bobby thought Eric would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as Bobby laid his ten dollars down.

 "Yes," he replied shyly. "It's ... for Eric." The nice lady smiled at him, put the coat in a bag and wished him a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped Bobby wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and write, "To Eric, From Santa Claus" on it – Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove Bobby over to Eric Decker's house. She parked down the street from Eric’s house, and crept noiselessly along with Bobby and hid in the bushes by Eric’s front walk. Then Grandma gave Bobby a nudge. "All right“, she whispered, "get going."

Bobby took a deep breath, dashed for Eric’s front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together they waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Eric. As he slowly opened the parcel, tears of joy filled his eyes and slowly began to stream down his face.

As Bobby and his grandma slowly drove back home that night, she told him the truth – “Santa Claus does exist, and YOU are a part of his team."

So now YOU decide which team are you on, the one that spreads wrong rumors, or spreads joy on behalf of Santa.