Among the many options, entrepreneurship is the most desirable option by the youth of 21st century. As I have seen in my own friends circle and surroundings, most of the people are satisfied neither in the government jobs nor in private sectors. Lack of free working environment and no space for their creativity can be the major reasons behind the dissatisfaction. On the other hand, the employment opportunities themselves are very limited here and which are also mostly filled by the nepotism, political sources, solicitation and so on. Very few organizations have free competition process, where only the top scorers can reserve the seats. Due to which, people are compelled to leave the country either by the means of education or through the work permits.

The possibilities of entrepreneurship development are being ignored by the youth here. Some of them take it as a risk, some are limited by the money, some lack dedication and passion; some have no any idea about it and some do not even try to think over it. To become an entrepreneur is not just the matter of money and wealth; one can be an entrepreneur by his skill, technical expertise, unique ideas, proper utilization of available resources and cooperation between the friends and relatives. Instead of studying common courses in universities, we can go for technical courses which help us to start our own business after completing the study. We can start cooperative organizations. Even, we can do the existing business in different approach. Most of the people are having agricultural land here and they who do not have own land can get in lease and do modern farming.

By recognition, Nepal is the agricultural country but even we have to import rice and vegetables from other countries. Instead of many unnecessary courses in school, government can develop the course book related the tourism and scope of agriculture in Nepal which can help the students to start their career from their own places. Geographically Nepal is a rich country. The Hills and Himalayans can be developed as the most attractive tourist destination and the Terai region is the best for agriculture. Instead of investing 10-20 lacs of rupees in going abroad, we can start many things here as an entrepreneur. We are doing the job of cleaning, dish-washing, salesmen in stores, waiters in restaurants and so on in other countries but we do no want to initiate respectful jobs here in our own society. If the government will provide trainings/workshops to the youth on tourism business and farming, the youth can be attracted to do something in their own country.

The problem caused by brain-drain is going to have a very bad impact in our society for the years. Now, the time is clicking and the problem is widening. The youth have to think about starting their own business by their own available resources instead of migrating abroad. The starting years can be hard but future will be definitely better. We can see many examples around the world. Most of the big business ventures were started by the small investment and great ideas. The time is asking to the youth of Nepal to set the examples. The government also needs to make some solid plans to support them who want to do something as their own in their society and country. They should been provided loans in less interest rate with light collateral, security to their business. The government should make some special offers for those who want to do agriculture and farming.

Let’s start brain storming about the entrepreneurship development in Nepal from own circles and places. If we have good future in own country than why should we move to other countries sacrificing our identity and self respect???

utshabpokhrel@gmail.com

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United Arab Emirates (UAE)

(Country and Economic Overview)

With an area of 83,600 Sq. Km and Population of around 5 Million, UAE is today one of the most developed country in the world based on various socio economic factors such as per capita, energy consumption per capita. The country has liberal social and economic policy and its foreign policy is based on pro western cultures. It consists of 7 emirates and culture stems from a deep-rooted belief in Islam. Arabic is the official language in UAE and English, Hindi, Urdu and Persian are the other language spoken. UAE is currently the member of UN, Arab League and OPEC.

Before the rise of oil price in 1973, economy of UAE is dominated by the pearl production, fishing, agricultural and hardens. As being the membership of OPEC, UAE exports 62% of its crude Oil and Gas to Japan. At present production level, supplies of oil would last over 150 years. In 2006, production was about 2.8Mio barrel/day. Currently, the market share in OPEC is 7.34% and it is expected to be 10.69% by the year 2010. Apart from oil, high class tourism, and international finance are the new sector starting to develop as a new source of revenue. Cement, building materials, aluminum, garments, furniture’s, paper, plastic, fiber glass, processed metals and gold are the major business in UAE.

Although UAE is becoming less dependent on natural resources as a source of revenues, petroleum and natural gas exports still play and important role in the economy. Massive construction boom, expanding manufacturing base and thriving service sector is helping the UAE to diversify the economy. Today UAE is one of the top re-exporters countries in the world after Hong Kong and Singapore. More than 40% of imports are for re-exports. The Major import in UAE is form Asia, Europe, America and Africa.

Only 20% of total populations are UAE citizens, major foreigners are also Muslim and Hindu, Christians and Persians. The education system of UAE is highly standard, many foreign university of US, Australia and UK are operating through out the country. The Booming markets of UAE is also providing high class of Banking and financial service. There are almost 23 Local banks, 28 foreign bank, 2 investment bank, 16 finance co., 80 representative offices and 105 money exchanges operating currently.

The Country is achieving tremendous growth since 1 decade and the growth rate is around 9.7%, GDP with $ 42,934 (per capita) and inflation level is around 13%-15%. There are around $ 350,000,000,000 (in 2006) worth active constructive projects in UAE. Many Projects of Modern architectural building, metro train(target 2009), road, cargo village expansion, port expansion, green house projects, Dubai autodrome, business park, hydrofoils hotel( under the sea) are the upcoming projects in UAE. Dubai is highly developed state of UAE with world only 7 star hotel Burj Al Arab, Palm Jumairah, Burj Dubai, Dubai Festival and many wonderful projects and modern architectural building. Dubai is considered to be a home of 15% -25% of world 125,000 constructive cranes.

Recent liberalization in the property market allowing non citizens to buy free hold land has resulted in major boom in the constructive and real estate sectors. Country is attracting the people around the world due to no any provision of income tax to the individual. Since 2002, 100,000 UK residents had purchased the property in UAE. UAE requires 51% local citizens ownership in all business operating in a country as part of its attempt to place emirates (UAE Nationals) into leadership position, Effort to increase UAE Nationals in labor force is priority by Gvt. for the year 2008/09. UAE has been a key partner in the war on terror, UAE port host more US navy ships, any port outside US. It is having a strong formal diplomatic relation with US. If Iran issues comes out it would be hard to balance commercial interest with Iran due to strong tied up with US.

 Information collected By:

UJWAL GHIMIRE

Representative Officer (Middle East                       

Laxmi Bank Ltd. , Nepal

Currently in UAE

Have you heard the one about two cats gnashing their ivories over the sharing of a bread and a sly monky brokering between to chomp away the whole? Now I think those felines were way wiser than you silly politicos in that their story ends then and there. They didn’t quibble after the matter of dispute is gone. Looks like your bread is nibbled to all intents but ego war and wheel and deal of your bellicose politics is running and running. One day the monkey will bloat its paunch and be gone but you incorrigible morons are the goners, your attitudes are dead giveaway.

I remember some years back having come through the pictures of some starving Africans, eyes sunken in their death’s head and unable to hold themselves straight with the skull shifting their centre of gravity way upward the body. It used to be some sort of funny and occasional bouts of telescopic philanthropy. But such sights give me goosebumps nowadays. The very thought of myself suffering the same fate makes me quake in my boots. The phantasmagoria of my children shaking in death throes makes me bag of nerves.

Yonks ago in the halcyon days of my childhood and blissful ignorance I remember my grandfather saying that if a dog barks for food give it more than it can digest. The trots thereafter makes it keep shut. The more it barks, the more jetting from the posterior orifice until the moron realizes that it is wiser to pucker its ass than to yap. It was also a funny then until I understood the wisdom behind it.

Are we being given enough rope to hang ourselves in the name of freedom? Are we all gonna end with puckered asses? Is democracy a Heath Robinson grinding machine where one dies of starvation before the flour is ready? Is democracy prohibitively expensive or just these load of self indulgent politicians are making heavy weather of it?

Here is an excerpt from Dostoevsky’s work – A weak man cannot control himself on his own. Give him everything, and he’ll come of his own accord and give it back to you;give him half the world, just try it, and what do you think he’ll do? He’ll hide in your shoe immediately, that small will he make himself. Give a weak man a freedom and he’ll fetter it himself and give it back to you. A foolish heart has no use for freedom!

Enough has been said about our potentials and resources, enough of the Monday morning quarterbacks barking at the moon and enough of the air heads sitting on a gold mine reinventing a wheel. I don’t want to warble the whole kit and caboodle, or say labour the point. All I have is my own side of the matter – I see zombies nowadays!  They are everywhere looking as if attending an obsequies. They are in the footpaths, buses, parks, petrol pumps, shops, right, left, down and every which way. What has gone off is they are flocking into me by some sort of telepathy. And the worst is they are metamorphosing me into something which is making me tick.

Zombie mothers trudging dead bit piggy backing their emaciated infants along the streets engulfed in the inferno of burning tyres. Zombie fathers hunkering in the pavement leaning against a wall with namlo in their hands in a hope of keeping the wolf from the door; clouds blackly looming. Zombie brothers, comatose by worries, sitting on a park bench, staring blankly at the impending doom; glassy eyed and pasty faced. Zombie sisters pale about the gill moving gingerly along…………words failed me! Zombie pythons winding miles down the roads gaping their mouthes in front of petrol pumps. Zombies doing highway robberies to the ones stuck in strike, audacious ones involved in kidnappings and robberies, wuss ones doing petty crimes. And me the hoi polloi, undergoing constant metamorphosis.

As I have already said I am the hoi polloi and I know my limits. I have nothing to do with you and I know you don’t give a hoot for me except making me your trump card. Oh scoundrels! swing sword as much as you wish but please don’t do it in my courtyard. Kauravs and Pandavs had chosen Kurukshetra to decide who will rule the roost. They didn’t skirmish in the villages of the little people. Have a heart scums of the earth! I have children in my home and I fear their minds get perverted by the unsightly scabby deeds of you rotten apples. Just choose a den of iniquity far away from my home to play you filthy games. The day one of you vermins comes top dog, I will bow down before you. Better a devil than a pack of wolves.

Nevertheless, your victory will be a pyrrhic one and your power transitory. Never underestimate my potential. I have my own pace of running. My movement is slow but it is linear. A D-day will come and it is on the horizon. Mothers will sing and sisters will dance, brothers will clap and fathers will laugh. I may be your slave for the time being but the day I head off you I will slash my way through you falling you roots and branches. You will beg for mercy and grovel on my foot but I will do nothing fancy to hammer you hard nails and caste you in the pit of eternal damnation.

I have tore down the palaces and the mightiest of dictators have turned tail at my sight. You bunch of toe rags are just sweet Fanny Adams to me. I am the hoi polloi and I know my limits but it is always beyond yours.

Excuse me deaf dunderheads! I am a time bomb ticking in your ears.  

After 2 years of selfless service, a man realized that he has not been promoted, no transfer, no salary increment, no commendation. So he decided to walk up to his HR Manager. His manager looked at him, smiled and asked him to sit down saying: ‘My friend you have not worked here for even a single day.’ The man was surprised to hear this, but the manager went on to explain.

Manager: How many days are there in a year?

Man: 365 days and sometimes 366.

Manager: How many hours make up a day?

Man: 24 Hours.

Manager: How long do u work in a day?

Man: 10am to 6pm i.e 8 hours a day.

Manager: So, what fraction of the day do u work in hours?

Man: He did some arithmetic and said 8/24 i.e 1/3 (one third).

Manager: This is nice of u! what is 1/3rd of 366 days?

Man: 122(1/3 x 366=122 in days)

Manager: Do u come to work on weekends?

Man: No sir.

Manager: How many days r there in a year that r weekends?

Man: 52 Saturdays and 52 Sundays equals to 104 days.

Manager: Thanks for that. If u remove 104 days from 122 days. how many days do u now have?

Man: 18 days.

Manager: I do give u 2 weeks sick leave every year. Now remove that 14 days from the 18 days left. How many days do u have remaining?

Man: 4 days.

Manager: Do u work on Republic Day?

Man: No sir!

Manager: Do u come to work on Independence Day?

Man: No sir!

Manager: So how many days r left?

Man: 2 days Sir!

Manager: Do u come to work on New Years Day?

Man: No sir!

Manager: So how many days r left?

Man: 1 day sir!

Manager: Do u work on Christmas Day?

Man: No Sir!

Manager: So how many days r left?

Man: None Sir!

Manager: So what are you claming?

Man: !!!…

Moral – NEVER GO TO HR FOR HELP!!!

       HR= HIGH RISK.

1. Cocktail lounge, Norway:

LADIES ARE REQUESTED NOT TO HAVE CHILDREN IN THE BAR.

2. At a Budapest zoo:

PLEASE DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS.

IF YOU HAVE ANY SUITABLE FOOD, GIVE IT TO THE GUARD ON DUTY.

3. Doctor’s office in Rome:

SPECIALIST IN WOMEN AND OTHER DISEASES.

4. Information booklet about using a hotel air conditioner. Japan:

COOLES AND HEATES: IF YOU WANT CONDITION OF WARM AIR IN YOUR ROOM, PLEASE CONTROL

YOURSELF.

5. In a Nairobi restaurant:

CUSTOMERS WHO FIND OUR WAITRESSES RUDE OUGHT TO SEE THE MANAGER.

 6. On the grounds of a Nairobi private school:

NO TRESPASSING WITHOUT PERMISSION.

 7. In Aamchi Mumbai restaurant:

OPEN SEVEN DAYS A WEEK, AND WEEKENDS TOO.

 8. The best! In a Tokyo bar:

SPECIAL COCKTAILS FOR THE LADIES WITH NUTS.

 9. Hotel, Japan:

YOU ARE INVITED TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE CHAMBERMAID.

 10. In the lobby of a Moscow hotel across from a Russian Orthodox monastery:

YOU ARE WELCOME TO VISIT THE CEMETERY WHERE FAMOUS RUSSIAN AND SOVIET COMPOSERS,

ARTISTS, AND WRITERS ARE BURIED DAILY EXCEPT THURSDAY.

11. Hotel, Zurich:

BECAUSE OF THE IMPROPRIETY OF ENTERTAINING GUESTS OF THE OPPOSITE SEX IN THE BEDROOM,

IT IS SUGGESTED THAT THE LOBBY BE USED FOR THIS PURPOSE.

 12. Advertisement by a Hong Kong dentist:

TEETH EXTRACTED BY THE LATEST METHODISTS.

 13. A laundry in Rome:

LADIES, LEAVE YOUR CLOTHES HERE AND SPEND THE AFTERNOON HAVING A GOOD TIME.

14. Tourist agency, Czechoslovakia:

TAKE ONE OF OUR HORSE-DRIVEN CITY TOURS. WE GUARANTEE NO MISCARRIAGES.

15. Advertisement for donkey rides, Thailand:

WOULD YOU LIKE TO RIDE ON YOUR OWN ASS?

16. The box of a clockwork toy made in Hong Kong:

GUARANTEED TO WORK THROUGHOUT ITS USEFUL LIFE.

17. Airline ticket office, Copenhagen:

WE TAKE YOUR  BAGS AND SEND THEM IN ALL DIRECTIONS.

18. In a Japanese cemetery:

PERSONS ARE PROHIBITED FROM PICKING FLOWERS FROM ANY BUT THEIR OWN GRAVES.

TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE.

The friend who had slapped and
saved his best friend asked him,
“After I hurt you, you wrote in the
sand and now, you write on a stone,
why?” The other friend replied “When someone
hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds
of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone
does something good for us, we must engrave
it in stone where no wind can ever erase it.”

LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND
AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE.

The Ant works hard in the withering heat all summer
building its house and laying up supplies for the winter.

The Grasshopper thinks the Ant is a fool and laughs &
dances & plays the summer away.

Come winter, the Ant is warm and well fed. The
Grasshopper has no food or shelter so he dies out in
the cold.

Modern Version

The Ant works hard in the withering heat all summer
building its house and laying up supplies for the winter.

The Grasshopper thinks the Ant’s a fool and laughs &
dances & plays the summer away.

Come winter, the shivering Grasshopper calls a press
conference and demands to know why the Ant should be
allowed to be warm and well fed while others are cold
and starving.

Nepal Tv,  BBC, CNN show up to provide pictures of the
shivering Grasshopper next to a video of the Ant in
his comfortable home with a table filled with food.

The World is stunned by the sharp contrast. How can
this be that this poor Grasshopper is allowed to suffer so?

YCL stages a demonstration in front of the Ant’s house.

Nagrik Samaj goes on a fast along with other
Grasshoppers demanding that Grasshoppers be relocated
to warmer climates during winter.

Amnesty International and Wan Ki Moon
criticizes the Nepalese Government for not upholding the
fundamental rights of the Grasshopper.

The Internet is flooded with online petitions
seeking support to the Grasshopper (many promising
Heaven and Everlasting Peace for prompt support as
against the wrath of God for non-compliance) .

Opposition MPs stage a walkout.
Upendra Yadav call for “Nepal Bandh”

Maobadi in immediately passes a law preventing Ants
from working hard in the heat so as to bring about
equality of poverty among Ants and Grasshoppers.

Baburam allocates one free coach to Grasshoppers on all Nepali
Buses aptly named as the ‘Grasshopper Path’ .

Finally, the Judicial Committee drafts the ‘Prevention
of Terrorism Against Grasshoppers Act’ [POTAGA], with
effect from the beginning of the winter.

Madav Nepal makes ‘Special Reservation ‘ for Grasshoppers in
Educational Institutions & in Government Services.

The Ant is fined for failing to comply with POTAGA

and having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes,
it’s home is confiscated by the YCL and handed
over to the Grasshopper in a ceremony covered by Nepal Tv.

 Prachand calls it ‘A Triumph of Justice’.

YCL calls it ‘Socialistic Justice’.

Maobadi calls it the ‘Revolutionary Resurgence of the
Downtrodden’

UN Secretary General invites the Grasshopper to
address the UN General Assembly.

 Many years later…

The Ant has since migrated to the US
and set up a multi-billion dollar company in Silicon Valley

100s of Grasshoppers still die of starvation despite
reservation somewhere in Nepal

Cool was I and logical. Keen, calculating, perspicacious, acute and astute—I was all of these. My brain was as powerful as a dynamo, precise as a chemist’s scales, as penetrating as a scalpel. And—think of it!—I only eighteen.

It is not often that one so young has such a giant intellect. Take, for example, Petey Bellows, my roommate at the university. Same age, same background, but dumb as an ox. A nice enough fellow, you understand, but nothing upstairs. Emotional type. Unstable. Impressionable. Worst of all, a faddist. Fads, I submit, are the very negation of reason. To be swept up in every new craze that comes along, to surrender oneself to idiocy just because everybody else is doing it—this, to me, is the acme of mindlessness. Not, however, to Petey.

One afternoon I found Petey lying on his bed with an expression of such distress on his face that I immediately diagnosed appendicitis. “Don’t move,” I said, “Don’t take a laxative. I’ll get a doctor.”

“Raccoon,” he mumbled thickly.

“Raccoon?” I said, pausing in my flight.

“I want a raccoon coat,” he wailed.

I perceived that his trouble was not physical, but mental. “Why do you want a raccoon coat?”

“I should have known it,” he cried, pounding his temples. “I should have known they’d come back when the Charleston came back. Like a fool I spent all my money for textbooks, and now I can’t get a raccoon coat.”

“Can you mean,” I said incredulously, “that people are actually wearing raccoon coats again?”

“All the Big Men on Campus are wearing them. Where’ve you been?”

“In the library,” I said, naming a place not frequented by Big Men on Campus.

He leaped from the bed and paced the room. “I’ve got to have a raccoon coat,” he said passionately. “I’ve got to!”

“Petey, why? Look at it rationally. Raccoon coats are unsanitary. They shed. They smell bad. They weigh too much. They’re unsightly. They—”

“You don’t understand,” he interrupted impatiently. “It’s the thing to do. Don’t you want to be in the swim?”

“No,” I said truthfully.

“Well, I do,” he declared. “I’d give anything for a raccoon coat. Anything!”

My brain, that precision instrument, slipped into high gear. “Anything?” I asked, looking at him narrowly.

“Anything,” he affirmed in ringing tones.

I stroked my chin thoughtfully. It so happened that I knew where to get my hands on a raccoon coat. My father had had one in his undergraduate days; it lay now in a trunk in the attic back home. It also happened that Petey had something I wanted. He didn’t have it exactly, but at least he had first rights on it. I refer to his girl, Polly Espy.

I had long coveted Polly Espy. Let me emphasize that my desire for this young woman was not emotional in nature. She was, to be sure, a girl who excited the emotions, but I was not one to let my heart rule my head. I wanted Polly for a shrewdly calculated, entirely cerebral reason.

I was a freshman in law school. In a few years I would be out in practice. I was well aware of the importance of the right kind of wife in furthering a lawyer’s career. The successful lawyers I had observed were, almost without exception, married to beautiful, gracious, intelligent women. With one omission, Polly fitted these specifications perfectly.

Beautiful she was. She was not yet of pin-up proportions, but I felt that time would supply the lack. She already had the makings.

Gracious she was. By gracious I mean full of graces. She had an erectness of carriage, an ease of bearing, a poise that clearly indicated the best of breeding. At table her manners were exquisite. I had seen her at the Kozy Kampus Korner eating the specialty of the house—a sandwich that contained scraps of pot roast, gravy, chopped nuts, and a dipper of sauerkraut—without even getting her fingers moist.

Intelligent she was not. In fact, she veered in the opposite direction. But I believed that under my guidance she would smarten up. At any rate, it was worth a try. It is, after all, easier to make a beautiful dumb girl smart than to make an ugly smart girl beautiful.

“Petey,” I said, “are you in love with Polly Espy?”

“I think she’s a keen kid,” he replied, “but I don’t know if you’d call it love. Why?”

“Do you,” I asked, “have any kind of formal arrangement with her? I mean are you going steady or anything like that?”

“No. We see each other quite a bit, but we both have other dates. Why?”

“Is there,” I asked, “any other man for whom she has a particular fondness?”

“Not that I know of. Why?”

I nodded with satisfaction. “In other words, if you were out of the picture, the field would be open. Is that right?”

“I guess so. What are you getting at?”

“Nothing , nothing,” I said innocently, and took my suitcase out the closet.

“Where are you going?” asked Petey.

“Home for weekend.” I threw a few things into the bag.

“Listen,” he said, clutching my arm eagerly, “while you’re home, you couldn’t get some money from your old man, could you, and lend it to me so I can buy a raccoon coat?”

“I may do better than that,” I said with a mysterious wink and closed my bag and left.

  “Look,” I said to Petey when I got back Monday morning. I threw open the suitcase and revealed the huge, hairy, gamy object that my father had worn in his Stutz Bearcat in 1925.

“Holy Toledo!” said Petey reverently. He plunged his hands into the raccoon coat and then his face. “Holy Toledo!” he repeated fifteen or twenty times.

“Would you like it?” I asked.

“Oh yes!” he cried, clutching the greasy pelt to him. Then a canny look came into his eyes. “What do you want for it?”

“Your girl.” I said, mincing no words.

“Polly?” he said in a horrified whisper. “You want Polly?”

“That’s right.”

He flung the coat from him. “Never,” he said stoutly.

I shrugged. “Okay. If you don’t want to be in the swim, I guess it’s your business.”

I sat down in a chair and pretended to read a book, but out of the corner of my eye I kept watching Petey. He was a torn man. First he looked at the coat with the expression of a waif at a bakery window. Then he turned away and set his jaw resolutely. Then he looked back at the coat, with even more longing in his face. Then he turned away, but with not so much resolution this time. Back and forth his head swiveled, desire waxing, resolution waning. Finally he didn’t turn away at all; he just stood and stared with mad lust at the coat.

“It isn’t as though I was in love with Polly,” he said thickly. “Or going steady or anything like that.”

“That’s right,” I murmured.

“What’s Polly to me, or me to Polly?”

“Not a thing,” said I.

“It’s just been a casual kick—just a few laughs, that’s all.”

“Try on the coat,” said I.

He complied. The coat bunched high over his ears and dropped all the way down to his shoe tops. He looked like a mound of dead raccoons. “Fits fine,” he said happily.

I rose from my chair. “Is it a deal?” I asked, extending my hand.

He swallowed. “It’s a deal,” he said and shook my hand.

I had my first date with Polly the following evening. This was in the nature of a survey; I wanted to find out just how much work I had to do to get her mind up to the standard I required. I took her first to dinner. “Gee, that was a delish dinner,” she said as we left the restaurant. Then I took her to a movie. “Gee, that was a marvy movie,” she said as we left the theatre. And then I took her home. “Gee, I had a sensaysh time,” she said as she bade me good night.

I went back to my room with a heavy heart. I had gravely underestimated the size of my task. This girl’s lack of information was terrifying. Nor would it be enough merely to supply her with information. First she had to be taught to think. This loomed as a project of no small dimensions, and at first I was tempted to give her back to Petey. But then I got to thinking about her abundant physical charms and about the way she entered a room and the way she handled a knife and fork, and I decided to make an effort.

I went about it, as in all things, systematically. I gave her a course in logic. It happened that I, as a law student, was taking a course in logic myself, so I had all the facts at my fingertips. “Poll’,” I said to her when I picked her up on our next date, “tonight we are going over to the Knoll and talk.”

“Oo, terrif,” she replied. One thing I will say for this girl: you would go far to find another so agreeable.

We went to the Knoll, the campus trysting place, and we sat down under an old oak, and she looked at me expectantly. “What are we going to talk about?” she asked.

“Logic.”

She thought this over for a minute and decided she liked it. “Magnif,” she said.

“Logic,” I said, clearing my throat, “is the science of thinking. Before we can think correctly, we must first learn to recognize the common fallacies of logic. These we will take up tonight.”

“Wow-dow!” she cried, clapping her hands delightedly.

I winced, but went bravely on. “First let us examine the fallacy called Dicto Simpliciter.”

“By all means,” she urged, batting her lashes eagerly.

“Dicto Simpliciter means an argument based on an unqualified generalization. For example: Exercise is good. Therefore everybody should exercise.”

“I agree,” said Polly earnestly. “I mean exercise is wonderful. I mean it builds the body and everything.”

“Polly,” I said gently, “the argument is a fallacy. Exercise is good is an unqualified generalization. For instance, if you have heart disease, exercise is bad, not good. Many people are ordered by their doctors not to exercise. You must qualify the generalization. You must say exercise is usually good, or exercise is good for most people. Otherwise you have committed a Dicto Simpliciter. Do you see?”

“No,” she confessed. “But this is marvy. Do more! Do more!”

“It will be better if you stop tugging at my sleeve,” I told her, and when she desisted, I continued. “Next we take up a fallacy called Hasty Generalization. Listen carefully: You can’t speak French. Petey Bellows can’t speak French. I must therefore conclude that nobody at the University of Minnesota can speak French.”

“Really?” said Polly, amazed. “Nobody?”

I hid my exasperation. “Polly, it’s a fallacy. The generalization is reached too hastily. There are too few instances to support such a conclusion.”

“Know any more fallacies?” she asked breathlessly. “This is more fun than dancing even.”

I fought off a wave of despair. I was getting nowhere with this girl, absolutely nowhere. Still, I am nothing if not persistent. I continued. “Next comes Post Hoc. Listen to this: Let’s not take Bill on our picnic. Every time we take him out with us, it rains.”

“I know somebody just like that,” she exclaimed. “A girl back home—Eula Becker, her name is. It never fails. Every single time we take her on a picnic—”

“Polly,” I said sharply, “it’s a fallacy. Eula Becker doesn’t cause the rain. She has no connection with the rain. You are guilty of Post Hoc if you blame Eula Becker.”

“I’ll never do it again,” she promised contritely. “Are you mad at me?”

I sighed. “No, Polly, I’m not mad.”

“Then tell me some more fallacies.”

“All right. Let’s try Contradictory Premises.”

“Yes, let’s,” she chirped, blinking her eyes happily.

I frowned, but plunged ahead. “Here’s an example of Contradictory Premises: If God can do anything, can He make a stone so heavy that He won’t be able to lift it?”

“Of course,” she replied promptly.

“But if He can do anything, He can lift the stone,” I pointed out.

“Yeah,” she said thoughtfully. “Well, then I guess He can’t make the stone.”

“But He can do anything,” I reminded her.

She scratched her pretty, empty head. “I’m all confused,” she admitted.

“Of course you are. Because when the premises of an argument contradict each other, there can be no argument. If there is an irresistible force, there can be no immovable object. If there is an immovable object, there can be no irresistible force. Get it?”

“Tell me more of this keen stuff,” she said eagerly.

I consulted my watch. “I think we’d better call it a night. I’ll take you home now, and you go over all the things you’ve learned. We’ll have another session tomorrow night.”

I deposited her at the girls’ dormitory, where she assured me that she had had a perfectly terrif evening, and I went glumly home to my room. Petey lay snoring in his bed, the raccoon coat huddled like a great hairy beast at his feet. For a moment I considered waking him and telling him that he could have his girl back. It seemed clear that my project was doomed to failure. The girl simply had a logic-proof head.

But then I reconsidered. I had wasted one evening; I might as well waste another. Who knew? Maybe somewhere in the extinct crater of her mind a few members still smoldered. Maybe somehow I could fan them into flame. Admittedly it was not a prospect fraught with hope, but I decided to give it one more try.

  Seated under the oak the next evening I said, “Our first fallacy tonight is called Ad Misericordiam.”

She quivered with delight.

“Listen closely,” I said. “A man applies for a job. When the boss asks him what his qualifications are, he replies that he has a wife and six children at home, the wife is a helpless cripple, the children have nothing to eat, no clothes to wear, no shoes on their feet, there are no beds in the house, no coal in the cellar, and winter is coming.”

A tear rolled down each of Polly’s pink cheeks. “Oh, this is awful, awful,” she sobbed.

“Yes, it’s awful,” I agreed, “but it’s no argument. The man never answered the boss’s question about his qualifications. Instead he appealed to the boss’s sympathy. He committed the fallacy of Ad Misericordiam. Do you understand?”

“Have you got a handkerchief?” she blubbered.

I handed her a handkerchief and tried to keep from screaming while she wiped her eyes. “Next,” I said in a carefully controlled tone, “we will discuss False Analogy. Here is an example: Students should be allowed to look at their textbooks during examinations. After all, surgeons have X-rays to guide them during an operation, lawyers have briefs to guide them during a trial, carpenters have blueprints to guide them when they are building a house. Why, then, shouldn’t students be allowed to look at their textbooks during an examination?”

“There now,” she said enthusiastically, “is the most marvy idea I’ve heard in years.”

“Polly,” I said testily, “the argument is all wrong. Doctors, lawyers, and carpenters aren’t taking a test to see how much they have learned, but students are. The situations are altogether different, and you can’t make an analogy between them.”

“I still think it’s a good idea,” said Polly.

“Nuts,” I muttered. Doggedly I pressed on. “Next we’ll try Hypothesis Contrary to Fact.”

“Sounds yummy,” was Polly’s reaction.

“Listen: If Madame Curie had not happened to leave a photographic plate in a drawer with a chunk of pitchblende, the world today would not know about radium.”

“True, true,” said Polly, nodding her head “Did you see the movie? Oh, it just knocked me out. That Walter Pidgeon is so dreamy. I mean he fractures me.”

“If you can forget Mr. Pidgeon for a moment,” I said coldly, “I would like to point out that statement is a fallacy. Maybe Madame Curie would have discovered radium at some later date. Maybe somebody else would have discovered it. Maybe any number of things would have happened. You can’t start with a hypothesis that is not true and then draw any supportable conclusions from it.”

“They ought to put Walter Pidgeon in more pictures,” said Polly, “I hardly ever see him any more.”

One more chance, I decided. But just one more. There is a limit to what flesh and blood can bear. “The next fallacy is called Poisoning the Well.”

“How cute!” she gurgled.

“Two men are having a debate. The first one gets up and says, ‘My opponent is a notorious liar. You can’t believe a word that he is going to say.’ … Now, Polly, think. Think hard. What’s wrong?”

I watched her closely as she knit her creamy brow in concentration. Suddenly a glimmer of intelligence—the first I had seen—came into her eyes. “It’s not fair,” she said with indignation. “It’s not a bit fair. What chance has the second man got if the first man calls him a liar before he even begins talking?”

“Right!” I cried exultantly. “One hundred per cent right. It’s not fair. The first man has poisoned the well before anybody could drink from it. He has hamstrung his opponent before he could even start … Polly, I’m proud of you.”

“Pshaws,” she murmured, blushing with pleasure.

“You see, my dear, these things aren’t so hard. All you have to do is concentrate. Think—examine—evaluate. Come now, let’s review everything we have learned.”

“Fire away,” she said with an airy wave of her hand.

Heartened by the knowledge that Polly was not altogether a cretin, I began a long, patient review of all I had told her. Over and over and over again I cited instances, pointed out flaws, kept hammering away without letup. It was like digging a tunnel. At first, everything was work, sweat, and darkness. I had no idea when I would reach the light, or even if I would. But I persisted. I pounded and clawed and scraped, and finally I was rewarded. I saw a chink of light. And then the chink got bigger and the sun came pouring in and all was bright.

Five grueling nights with this took, but it was worth it. I had made a logician out of Polly; I had taught her to think. My job was done. She was worthy of me, at last. She was a fit wife for me, a proper hostess for my many mansions, a suitable mother for my well-heeled children.

It must not be thought that I was without love for this girl. Quite the contrary. Just as Pygmalion loved the perfect woman he had fashioned, so I loved mine. I decided to acquaint her with my feelings at our very next meeting. The time had come to change our relationship from academic to romantic.

“Polly,” I said when next we sat beneath our oak, “tonight we will not discuss fallacies.”

“Aw, gee,” she said, disappointed.

“My dear,” I said, favoring her with a smile, “we have now spent five evenings together. We have gotten along splendidly. It is clear that we are well matched.”

“Hasty Generalization,” said Polly brightly.

“I beg your pardon,” said I.

“Hasty Generalization,” she repeated. “How can you say that we are well matched on the basis of only five dates?”

I chuckled with amusement. The dear child had learned her lessons well. “My dear,” I said, patting her hand in a tolerant manner, “five dates is plenty. After all, you don’t have to eat a whole cake to know that it’s good.”

“False Analogy,” said Polly promptly. “I’m not a cake. I’m a girl.”

I chuckled with somewhat less amusement. The dear child had learned her lessons perhaps too well. I decided to change tactics. Obviously the best approach was a simple, strong, direct declaration of love. I paused for a moment while my massive brain chose the proper word. Then I began:

“Polly, I love you. You are the whole world to me, the moon and the stars and the constellations of outer space. Please, my darling, say that you will go steady with me, for if you will not, life will be meaningless. I will languish. I will refuse my meals. I will wander the face of the earth, a shambling, hollow-eyed hulk.”

There, I thought, folding my arms, that ought to do it.

“Ad Misericordiam,” said Polly.

I ground my teeth. I was not Pygmalion; I was Frankenstein, and my monster had me by the throat. Frantically I fought back the tide of panic surging through me; at all costs I had to keep cool.

“Well, Polly,” I said, forcing a smile, “you certainly have learned your fallacies.”

“You’re darn right,” she said with a vigorous nod.

“And who taught them to you, Polly?”

“You did.”

“That’s right. So you do owe me something, don’t you, my dear? If I hadn’t come along you never would have learned about fallacies.”

“Hypothesis Contrary to Fact,” she said instantly.

I dashed perspiration from my brow. “Polly,” I croaked, “you mustn’t take all these things so literally. I mean this is just classroom stuff. You know that the things you learn in school don’t have anything to do with life.”

“Dicto Simpliciter,” she said, wagging her finger at me playfully.

That did it. I leaped to my feet, bellowing like a bull. “Will you or will you not go steady with me?”

“I will not,” she replied.

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Because this afternoon I promised Petey Bellows that I would go steady with him.”

I reeled back, overcome with the infamy of it. After he promised, after he made a deal, after he shook my hand! “The rat!” I shrieked, kicking up great chunks of turf. “You can’t go with him, Polly. He’s a liar. He’s a cheat. He’s a rat.”

“Poisoning the Well ,” said Polly, “and stop shouting. I think shouting must be a fallacy too.”

With an immense effort of will, I modulated my voice. “All right,” I said. “You’re a logician. Let’s look at this thing logically. How could you choose Petey Bellows over me? Look at me—a brilliant student, a tremendous intellectual, a man with an assured future. Look at Petey—a knothead, a jitterbug, a guy who’ll never know where his next meal is coming from. Can you give me one logical reason why you should go steady with Petey Bellows?”

“I certainly can,” declared Polly. “He’s got a raccoon coat.”

A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. “Going my way, sailor?” she murmured. Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own. And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle. I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment. “I’m Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell. I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?” The woman’s face broadened into a tolerant smile. “I don’t know what this is about, son,” she answered, “but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!” It’s not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell’s wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive.

As like of everyone, I have also planned to have a sustainable job, handsome income, a lovely beloved, beautiful house in the middle of trees and flowers as like of heaven, own vehicle, two little kids, surrounded by other family members and friends. Still I am struggling to get fulfilled all those dreams. Everything is going as per the plans and hopes although the time frame is taking longer.

Suddenly, some factors started to strike on my mind. I don’t know whether it is the effect of the movie about the Buddha, the novel “Ghanachakkar”, the news about the destructions, the growing individualism, increasing lack of belief and selfishness among each others, rising misunderstanding between the dearest, the news about the Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan (only for the symbol of current lives), the same job from the past six years, the useless course books in practice of our day to day lives, or the losing world whatever the factors are, those all are moving here and there every seconds in my mind. They have made a playground inside me. Sometimes, I feel that Roberto Carlos has entered in my mind and he is hitting free kicks every time. What the hell is happening inside me?

Sometimes, I fear about the certainty of the death that we all have to die one day. And, I think that I have past 25 years of my life and the days are passing fast and fast. I think about the world and feel that there are lots of things to see and lots of things to experience. There are lots of happiness to enjoy and many more moments to cry. There are lots of dreams to fulfill. But, we are wasting our precious lives inside a small boundary of selfishness and egos. For someone, to get a good job may be the dream of life, for someone to have a happy family may be the success of life, for someone to get a beautiful house and car may be the fulfillment of life and for someone to get food for one time a day and a small shelter from the rain and sun may be the meaning of life.

Similarly, some feelings are striking inside me. I am feeling worthless to having a good job, a sweet love, a small house and passing life as ordinarily. Something is encouraging me to read the books and watch the movies which shows the reality of the lives of the world, to travel as much as you can to see all the parts of hills and valleys, steady fields, seas and oceans, strangers snow fields, huge buildings to sandal grounds, to taste the American launch to African dinner, to experience the eastern culture to western life style, want to get drunkard and lie on the ground looking at the stars on the open night sky. I want to travel all over the world reading beautiful novels and having sip of the whisky all my life making friends and girl friends all around. I want to see the lives of the people living in a common earth but with a vast different between each other. I want to write something which reflects the reality, the miseries, the fake smile, the darkness behind the beautiful eyes, and the ugly face behind the nice earth.

I don’t know how to start and what to do, whether I can walk on the journey or these are also my nonsense feelings or my stupidity. What I know is I am the person who can’t be able to get control over such foolish thinking and flow with the wind storm.

After a long time gap, i entered into the world of blogging again. Now, i hope to continue blogging again with the same enthusiasm as before. I know that there is no excuse of saying the lack of time, business, study, blah blah blah. It’s all because of nothing more than my laziness.

Anyway, now let’s start a fresh new beginning again. Today, it’s another Valentine’s Day and again i have no any plans. Actually, for having plans there should be a partner but how i can celebrate where there is me alone. Well, some can argue that it is no need to have a someone special. You can celebrate the day with your family members and with your friends. In some extent, this has some logic but i think that this day is particularly for the loving hearts and couples. I mean that specially for the beloved.

Yeah, we have special days with friends and families to celebrate and passing the beautiful memories. Similarly, this day, the Valentine’s Day is for the day with the beloved to make the love more wide and romantic. Well, there is also another logic that if you are in love every day will be the Valentine’s Day, every hours will be the Valentine’s Hours and every minutes will be the Valentine’s Minutes. It is also nice explanation but in reality, every day we have lots of duties and lots of limitations, too. So, in this very special occasion we can be free from all the boundaries and can separate the precious time specially for the beloved one and can make it a very worthwhile.

My best wishes to all the couples; this day will bring a new morning in your life with full of happiness, romance, and lots of love. And, to those who are as like me, still alone, will meet your beloved soon. Well, to find a girl friend or boy friend is not so difficult task but to find a true friend doesn’t depend upon you. It’s depends upon the right time.

I too have met a lot of girls in my life. I have attracted with many of them. With some, i have walked a little bit distance together. Still, there may someone in my heart and mind. But, i haven’t met that one to whom my heart is really searching for. How could she be my beloved while she even doesn’t understand my feelings and there is no any respect on them, while there is no much sharing and haven’t passed much time with each other? In fact, it is not for me single, it is only an example. I don’t believe in love at first sight, outlooks, handsome or beautiful alone. To understand one there have to pass a lot of time and share a lot of things with each other. Even the best friends (of opposite sex) may not be beloved.

To become a perfect couple, there should be a perfect understanding and transparent relationship with each other. There should be a respect between both of them and should have lots of love. One should have expressed every things clearly to another.

In the journey of life some people may impress us a lot and we may impress to some others. Among them some one may be too close to our heart and we will see the perfect choice and fall in love. But what i have known is that this is not in our own hand coz it’s all depends upon the time and that time may come in very short period in someone’s life and may be very far in someone’s. So, to those who have already got this time, make it more romantic as much as you can and to those who are still waiting, may get very soon in your life.

Hoping to get your love and comments as like of past.

View my past entries about the Valentine’s Day:

Happy Valentine’s Day, 2007

The Valentine’s Day is coming