Your cheers for team India will be heard in Wales! 🔊 ----- Our brightest talents are set to compete at the Homeless World Cup this weekend and your wishes can inspire a difference! ⚽ Share your wishes for them in the comments using #CheerForTeamIndia and you might see your message displayed in Wales! ----- Slum Soccer Homeless World Cup Rajkumar Bidawatka Rashmi Menon #GoBeyond
The Homeless World Cup 2019 is ready to kick off! ⚽ ----- The field is set. The players are prepared and our mission to make #EkIndiaHappywala is underway. We along with Slum Soccer are working to inspire the talent in our country to change their life through football and now, you too can help us inspire change. Get ready to #CheerForTeamIndia as the Homeless World Cup commences this weekend. 📢 ----- Slum Soccer Homeless World Cup Rajkumar Bidawatka Rashmi Menon #GoBeyond
📺 Stay-Tuned: 50 years have passed to the day astronaut Neil Armstrong and his crew landed on the surface of the moon and rewrote history. To celebrate the occasion’s golden jubilee, tune in to the Indian Television Premiere of the Oscar® and Golden Globe® award winning film, 'First Man', today at 1 PM and 9 PM, exclusively on AXN and Sony PIX. ----- Sony PIX AXN Live R.E.D Tushar Shah #IndianTVPremiere
🏆 Proud-Moment: With a 3X increase in monthly active users in 2019, SonyLIV is downloaded almost 100 times every minute and after announcing the launch of 100+ games on the platform, this number is set to rise. 📈 Log on to www.sonyliv.com today or download the app from Google Play or the App Store. ----- Sony LIV Uday Sodhi Sneha Iyer Pandey #WeLIVToEntertain
“Imagine if you were gifted the ability to be invisible for a day. What would you do with it? Would you board a flight to London without paying for your ticket? Or would you walk into a supermarket and relish your favourite ice cream while no one noticed you? Now imagine the possibilities if you owned this ability for a year! I spent my entire childhood being practically invisible to everyone and trust me when I say that after a while, invisibility does not feel empowering. I was always shy and reserved, which made it difficult for me to make friends at school. While the other kids hung around in groups and shared their lunch with each other, I would remain glued to my seat and dip into the contents of my tiffin. I watched as my classmates played pranks on each other and cracked jokes while I only thought about spending the summer vacation, with my cousins and grandmother in Nashik. I wanted to join the class banter, but the introvert inside hindered my progress. I often felt the need to scream and remind everyone that I existed, but when it came to talking, I always found myself speechless. School ended, college began and I became certain that this was an opportunity to rid myself of public fear. I felt I was ready to meet people, make friends and show everyone that I was a fun-loving person. On my first day of college, I introduced myself to the class in an awkward manner and felt pleased to see my classmates smile and giggle. While It wasn’t the ideal first day that I had pictured, I still managed to make a few friends, thanks to that forgettable introduction. Just as the shades of life began to move from grey to great, tragedy struck. I recall the day I returned home from class to hear that my father had suffered a massive stroke and was hospitalized. He was not only my mentor and guide but was also someone I idolized. Even in his state of paralysis, he could not see his family weakened. The last time I saw him was when he lay on the ICU bed, covered with medical equipment from head-to-toe. The smile on his face, as he watched me walk towards him, suggested that though he knew wouldn’t make it, he was proud of the boy I was. I, however, was unwilling to accept reality. When I returned home from the hospital, I found my house buzzing with relatives and neighbours. No one spoke a word; they just shared awkward glances. In that moment, I couldn’t understand what I was experiencing. I could feel a rush of emotions run through my body and the instant I took a seat, I broke into tears. My father’s death had frisked away the last string of hope that I was desperately clinging onto. That shy and timid kid who had just begun to shed his cocoon, was about to remain locked inside forever. My father’s untimely death also took a huge financial toll on my family. He had worked hard to save a meager sum but it wasn’t enough to both, feed us and pay for our education. Since he was the sole breadwinner, the responsibility after his death was passed on to my mother. My mom, with no formal education, resorted to odd jobs to make ends meet. Things were worse than ever and I was disappointed that I couldn’t do anything to support my family. We were also drowning in a sea of debt due to my father’s outstanding medical expenses. In my state of helplessness, I decided to run away from everything, at least for some time. All my life I’d been a great runner (literally and figuratively!) and this situation gave me another chance to do so. I prepared my mother and told her that I needed a break. Despite all her worries, she understood my plight and asked where I’d go. My mind was set on Nashik; the place where I spent all my school vacations. Since it was the first time I would travel this far alone, my mother warmly handed me some money left behind by my father and made me promise that I’d take care of myself. After gaining her assurance, I headed to the bus depot with a packed bag and a few snacks. I boarded the bus, purchased my ticket and occupied a vacant window seat. Just when I began to lose myself to the silence of the night, a couple seated in front of me began to argue aloud with each other. The wife complained to her husband about his mother’s habits, but the man seemed determined to calm her down with his witty remarks and one-liners. On overhearing their conversation, I couldn’t help but smile. It was the widest I had smiled in a long time. I felt overwhelmed by the conviction of the wife! Even through her argument, I could sense the immense love she had for her husband. That’s when I quietly drew my phone out of my pocket and punched in the words, “बाईचं कोडं काही सुटता सुटत नाही” (A woman is a crossword puzzle that you just can’t solve!) The next morning, the bus reached Nashik and I headed straight to my grandmother’s place, where I spent the week trying to drown my sorrows. Even after returning home from the trip, I began to look for distractions and knew that the only way out was to go to college and meet people. During one of our classes, it dawned upon me to share the words that I had written during the trip with my neighbour just to watch him smile. He had a hearty laugh and asked me why I didn’t write more. However, what he or no one else knew was that I had previously written several pieces for a beautiful girl in the campus who I was head-over-heels in love with, but dared not speak to. The only way I could express my love for her was through writings and when I finally showed her what I had written, she praised my work but rejected my proposal. Fear of rejection had been the primary reason for my introversion and experiencing both rejection and heartbreak, shattered whatever confidence I had. That conversation with my neighbour made me remember that rejection, but also made me realise that I had been living in fear for too long. It was time to let go of this fear and even if I did not possess the skill to walk up to people and strike a conversation, I could do that with a weapon that I had become familiar with – My pen. I promised that I would write something every day, even if it was just for me, and I picked up my pen. My classmates were sharing quotes and life lessons with each other via Whatsapp everyday and my neighbour challenged me to craft my own quotes in exchange for helping to circulate them. I accepted his challenge, under the condition that I would sign my quotes with my initials ‘R. N.’. He spent the next few weeks circulating my creations around the campus and people soon began to wonder who ‘R. N.’ was. As soon as word spread that I was the one behind these creations, people began to approach me from all sides, asking me to write customised quotes for them. Suddenly, I had to interact with several people every day, as they asked me to help them write their essays or articles for the school magazine. Remember the fun-loving kids from my school who never interacted with me? They were amazed to see the quietest kid in the class, make a splash with his writing. Today, I help co-curate the content on ‘WordHour’, which is a nine-thousand follower strong Instagram writer’s community, with over ninety-thousand mentions. It’s where I publish my own writings or fan submissions, when I’m not writing something on my personal Instagram, where I’ve amassed over three-thousand readers over the years. Through ‘WordHour’, I helped organise an exclusive meet-up in Mumbai, where young writers like myself got the opportunity to meet and greet like-minded people. I also assisted the Mumbai Metro team in organising their own meet-up in the city, when I met a young fan from Israel who had dropped by to say Hello! to the folks behind ‘WordHour’. My fight against loneliness was long and tiring, but I battled the odds with a weapon far mightier than a sword – A pen. Perhaps, if I did not pay heed to my calling, this story would have been a different one. ----- This is Rohit Nikam’s journey from being an introvert to an ambivert. His story of #GutsToGlory.
“In my family, we have a saying, “Pair mein moch aur choti soch, insaan ko aagey badhne nahi deti.” This literally translates into “A sprained foot and a narrow mindset do not allow one to progress.” Unbelievably, I experienced the two of them simultaneously at an early age. I’m glad that I did though, or I wouldn’t be where I am today. I was barely fourteen when my brother first introduced me to horse riding. I didn’t possess much knowledge about the sport, but was interested in pursuing it, primarily because my friends were busy playing Cricket and Football, while I had the chance to experience a sport that was not only cool and fun but also niche. Upon my brother’s insistence, my parents agreed to enroll me in a horse riding camp and off I went to Pune for a 6-day beginner’s course. I fell in love with the camp at first sight. The air was full of fun and adventure as everyone, from kids to fully grown adults were seen galloping around on their steed. I was soon assigned a horse and began training under the guidance of my instructor. I learnt that horses were no different from their riders and the more time they spent together, the stronger their bond. Just as I began to believe that I had forged a friendship with my horse, the week was over and my parents were at the gates, waiting to take me home. It was one of the saddest days of my life. For the first time, I was unhappy to see my parents and did not want to go back home. I then began a daily routine of cajoling my parents every morning to enroll me in a second camp, only to face rejection and despair. It took weeks of convincing before my parents finally obliged. What a day that was! During my second stint at the camp, I came up with the brilliant idea of convincing the academy to let me serve as volunteer in exchange for riding lessons. Though the directors at the academy were initially taken aback by my request, my instructor eventually convinced his superiors. He let me teach the kids some basic riding lessons, while he trained me in more advanced techniques. The day came when I was finally capable of riding a horse without any support. In fact, I could even direct my horse to jump over obstacles although with full body support. It was now time to truly challenge myself. It was time to try bareback horse jumping. Bareback horse jumping involves directing a horse over an obstacle without any saddles or stirrups. The stunt demands a great deal of patience and training, which is why only seasoned riders can pull it off. I mounted my horse with great confidence and belief that I would be among the handful in the camp to accomplish this feat, only to find myself eating dust within seconds. I got up, shook myself and mounted my horse again, only to fall a second time. That’s when I began to question my abilities. Can I pull this off? Or will I be a laughing stock in the camp? It was time to test myself one last time. I gathered every ounce of confidence I had and mounted the horse again. This time, the fall was much harder as I sprained my leg. My ego was destroyed by the piercing gaze of those who stood around me. I was one fall away from breaking the camp’s record. I was soaked in self-pity. The boy who forged a bond with horses would never touch one again. A week later, as I sat on my camp bed, sipping my coffee and space staring, I told myself that since I’d already made a fool of myself, there was nothing more that I could possibly lose. It was time to prove to myself and my doubters that I have what it takes to be the best. As the monsoon breeze swept through the camp, I mounted my horse and directed it to an obstacle nearby. I could feel everyone stare at me as they could not believe what they were seeing. However, I had made up my mind and my body would have to comply! As my horse took flight, my heart leapt into my mouth. I could feel our bodies glide through the fog, as both landed successfully on the other side. Oh, what a feeling! I finally proved to myself that I could achieve anything if I put my head to it. That day, I learned that if you don’t fail, it’s probably because you don’t try. And if you don’t try, how will you taste success? It's been 4 years since I last sat on a horse. The financial strain had begun to take a toll on my parents and I could not allow them to make compromises for my leisure. However, I’m working hard to save money and will soon get back into the game. That soft touch of a horse, the warmth of the breeze as it brushes your face and the ability to fly without wings… I can’t wait to experience it all over again.” ----- This is Tahir Ali Mansoor’s journey from having a fall to proving his abilities to all. His story of #GutsToGlory.
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