Tuesday, 28 January 2014

Father,Girl and a moneylender. Solutions to Hardest problems

Many years ago in a small
Indian village, A farmer had
the misfortune Of owing a
large sum of money to a
village moneylender.
The Moneylender, who was
old and ugly, fancied the
farmer's beautiful Daughter.
So he proposed a bargain.
He said he would forgo the
farmer's debt if he could
marry his Daughter. Both
the farmer and his daughter
were horrified by the
So the cunning money-
lender suggested that they
let Providence decide the
matter. He told them that he
would put a black Pebble
and a white pebble into an
empty money bag. Then the
girl would Have to pick one
pebble from the bag.
1) If she picked the black
pebble, she would become
his wife and her father's
debt would be forgiven.
2) If she picked the white
pebble she need not marry
him and her father's debt
would still be forgiven.
3) But if she refused to pick
a pebble, her father would
be thrown into Jail.
They were standing on a
pebble strewn path in the
farmer's field. As They
talked, the moneylender
bent over to pick up two
As he Picked them up, the
sharp-eyed girl noticed that
he had picked up two Black
pebbles and put them into
the bag.
He then asked the girl to
pick A pebble from the bag.
Now, imagine that you were
standing in the field. What
would you have Done if you
were the girl? If you had to
advise her, what would you
Have told her?
Careful analysis would
produce three possibilities:
1. The girl should refuse to
take a pebble.
2. The girl should show that
there were two black
pebbles in the bag and
expose the money-lender as
a cheat.
3. The girl should pick a
black pebble and sacrifice
herself in order to save her
father from his debt and
Take a moment to ponder
over the story. The above
story is used with The hope
that it will make us
appreciate the difference
between lateral And logical
The girl's dilemma cannot
be solved with Traditional
logical thinking. Think of the
consequences if she chooses
The above logical answers.
What would you recommend
to the Girl to do?
Well, here is what she
did ....
The girl put her hand into
the moneybag and drew out
a pebble.
Without Looking at it, she
fumbled and let it fall onto
the pebble-strewn path
Where it immediately
became lost among all the
other pebbles.
"Oh, how clumsy of me,"
she said. "But never mind, if
you look into the Bag for
the one that is left, you will
be able to tell which pebble
I Picked."
Since the remaining pebble
is black, it must be assumed
that she had Picked the
white one.
And since the money-lender
dared not admit his
Dishonesty, the girl changed
what seemed an impossible
situation into An extremely
advantageous one.
Most complex problems do
have a solution.
It is only that we don't
Attempt to think them to a

Adapted from

I am dumb

I am dumb,
My thoughts, words and imagination included.
My carelessness faults friends, so whole is crew dead

I am dumb,
Not the silent type, the stupid dumb type, my hazards and bad luck are ripe, I swipe my pipe to wipe the unsupportive tweeps

I am dumb
I shout #TGIF in the confines of my four walls, to rave with pals I got no balls, when loneliness falls, am busy with desperate night calls

See I never subscribe to their ideas of fun, and to never insecure enough to raise a gun, when they ridicule I turn, I myself know why I run

Girlfriends think am dumb too, which man turns away from a loose lay? and when called for love chooses to stay, who scares away the prey? While in the present world it's ok to stray?

I am dumb,
Because I expose my weaknesses to my suitors,
One moment she says I fit all the factors, the next she damps me among the actors.
I can't love while dumb, am damn numb to nice feelings, the next day I never matter

Now that I know who I am, I will try to be lower every term, if next she decides to cum, I will keep her with a full stretch arm,

We will get out of the crib and rave,
Take ourselves to the the Motels above
And as I appreciate her every curve
We will be flying happy together through every stave
From that moment she'll be mine to starve

Sunday, 26 January 2014

Writing: For my fears

> Unwritten. When you finally live in planet earth long enough (like I think I have), you come to realise that not everything is categorised rightly, not every profession is correctly and sincerely named, and not every job description (most don't) match up to what your employer finally gets you to do.

See, the reason I say these things is to showcase my inability to focus, to show how unable I am to perfect one thing and how unlucky my days are that I can't seem to choose that x-factor opportunity. Maybe I never prepare enough, maybe my day is not here yet, maybe am meant to have what is just at tip point between enough and not enough, to learn how to balance, or maybe am just a moron who never appreciates what he has and always thinks he deserves better (or maybe I do).

One of the often things I do is write, but you might never read anything like an anthology, paperback or a bestseller by me, not until I believe you should. We live in a world where writing plays a big role in societal development, information passage and reference as well as entertainment. That's how we learn to develop titles of people like writers, novelists, poets, journalists,  feature people and upcoming and emerging writers. I fit in none of these, I am undefined,

I am the kind that gets the million dollar idea while in the shower but the idea gets freezed by the cold water, or I get a really nice idea to write about but am somewhere squeezed between two fat women in an unroadworthy matatu, am just a hazard to writing or writing to me is only in the mind.

Other times my fear is in how shallow my paragraphs are, how often I misspell and how scarce my quotations to famous philosophers and critical thinkers are in my writing, so I get scared that it won't be interesting, I fear that nobody will identify with my writing.

It's tough but that time passes, those moments fade away and the fears dissipate. You wake up and suddenly you don't care so much about mistakes , about being among other important people, and when your fear was in writing, everything changes and you just want your words to be out there, to be read by others, to be critisized by great writers and rejected by editors yet the only thing you care about is they are out there in the open...