I have read an interesting true story here.
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His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog! He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.

There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman’s sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

“I want to repay you,” said the nobleman. “You saved my son’s life.” “No, I can’t accept payment for what I did,” the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer’s own son came to the door of the family hovel.

“Is that your son?” the nobleman asked.

“Yes,” the farmer replied proudly.

“I’ll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he’ll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of.” And that he did.

Farmer Fleming’s son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary’s Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman’s son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.

What saved his life this time? Penicillin.

The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill. His son’s name? Sir Winston Churchill.

Someone once said: What goes around comes around.
Work like you don’t need the money.
Love like you’ve never been hurt.
Dance like nobody’s watching.
Sing like nobody’s listening.
Live like it’s Heaven on Earth.
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I got this story from Travel tales from India. This is called having fun or having a wild time. I think for having fun the requirements are good health and that wild adventurous streak. Here Maverick is writing about his craziest train journey. He and his gang played volleyball in the wagon of a goods train. Keeping their company was a reluctant old women who cursed these guys in audible voice. You can get a feel of their fun by glancing at this picture.

Newspapers and TV channels have been amply covering the deluge of Mumbai. Saw this charming image in the Asian Age. This little girl — if it is perceptible in the image I took with my digital camera — has made a boat of empty cold-drink bottles. Quite an innovation I’d say!

A boy,still in his teens,has read my post, “Freedom of Expression & Choice.” He has written a post “Thinking“. Kurt Cobain’s blog is just one post old. He read comments on my post. He was very upset with all the rationality and the feel of real world was quite upsetting for him. His post reflects the simplicity and passion of a teen, unspoilt by cynicism.I wish him all the best in life.
Here is his post:

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I was one day coming back from Noida, way back to my home. In the way i was supposed to change a bus. I was walking upto the bus stop, in the way i saw a lady begging. I used to ignore those beggers whom i suppose that they can earn their money but instead they are begging, but not this lady. She was not a pretty site to see, without one leg. Her clothes were really dirty and torn. She was constantly giving me vibes of her helplessness and pity. I kept on walking and at the same time staring at her. I was unable to move my eyes from her. I don’t know what she was mumbling but surely she was asking for money. Some people ignored her like she’s a piece of shit. But she did’nt mind that i guess from her geusture. I turned around and walked upto her. I saw her begging pot, there were hardly 10 to 20 bucks in her pot, all in 1 or 2. I looked up at her in her eyes, her eyes were telling me that this lady wants money more than anyone else on this planet.

I reached my pocket there were about 575 bucks but i took out a lame 20 bucks and I dropped that piece of money in her pot. I can’t believe that she reached out to touch my feet for those 20 bucks. I felt so guilty. Folks! do we ever think spending 20 bucks!! and this ordinary 20 rupees bill meant so much to her. I was in tears. I fealt so miserable. There’s so much poverty in our country, and people say that it’s my money and i’ll spent it the way i want. I also used to do the same with my pocket money, but now i feel so bad about it. I wish I could have not wasted those money in buying some fancy clothes just to impress some bimbo, Instead done somethig productive. Wasting money on clothes or on junk food is so fucking sad when you see people around you starving and moving in clothes torn from here and there, with an inch of dirt on them. How you people close your eyes when you move. You people will easily spend money in Barista or Mcdonalds but if a rickshaw waala will ask you 5 or 10 buck more than normal then you people will be ready to fight with him. I’ll suggest you to go to Jama Masjid, I’m sure it’ll be an eye opener for you people. I’ve seen a real india there. I had smelt stink in the shape of poverty. I just want you to think about the children on the street selling newspaper, before you burn your money in some lousy place. Wearing nice clohtes, eating in some hi-fi food chain never defines a person. I’m closing this blog here, but i’ll write more.

P.S. :- This is for those who say that it’s my money and i’ll spend it the way i want. In a nutshell for metropolitan rats!!