Skip to main content

Fisherman and Tourist



Once in a village a tourist met a fisherman on the coast. Fisherman was going home with a catch he made for the day in the way tourists stopped him and started talking to him.


Tourist: How long did it took you to catch such a type of fish?

Fisherman: Not very long.


Tourist: Then why didn’t you stay for more time and catch more?

Fisherman: This small catch is sufficient to meet my and my family's needs.


Tourist: What do you do with the rest of your time?

Fisherman: I sleep late, play with my children, spend time with my family and friends.


Tourist (interrupted): I have an MBA from IIM and I can help you! You should start fishing for longer hours everyday then you can sell extra fish in the market and with that money you can buy a bigger boat.


Fisherman: After that?


Tourist: With a bigger boat you can catch more fish and then with that extra money you can buy an even bigger boat and then a second and third boat and this way you can have an entire fleet of ships. You can then sell your fish directly to processing plants and maybe one day open your own plant. Then you can move to the city and handle your new enterprise work from there.


Fisherman: How long would it take?

Tourist: Twenty, May be twenty five years..


Fisherman: Afterwards?

Tourist: Well my friend, that’s what's interesting. When your business gets really big then you can make millions.


Fisherman: Millions? OK? And after that?

Tourist: After that you’ll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish and spend time with your friends and family.


Now Fisherman responded,” With all due respect sir, but that’s exactly what i am doing now.. So what's the point of wasting 25 years?”


Moral: Throughout our life we only struggle and forget to enjoy real happiness, we are in so much anxiety and worry always for the future that we forget to live today. Being Satisfied with what we have is key to Happiness.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

McDow Hole – Anatomy Of A Texas Ghost Story

  Spooky Texas legend of the McDow Hole, where ghost sightings of pioneer woman Jenny Papworth and her baby have long been reported.  Written by Bob Hopkins . I first heard the legendary tale of the Ghost of the McDow Hole in the fifteenth year of my youth. It was near Halloween in October 1975 when a friend related the tale of the ghost that haunts a creek bed in rural Erath County and naturally I believed every word of it in the twilight of an evening spent with friends telling ghost stories. I would again hear the tale over the years while living in North Central Texas. It wasn’t until my chance encounter of meeting an author of the legend in 2002 that my curiosity began to peak and like any good investigator I felt it my duty to dig deeper into the hundred year old tale of pioneer folklore to see how much of the story was true and how much was fabricated. I would discover many similarities in fact and fiction that I believed would leave any reader with the same curiosity t...

Mama Coon Coon: A Louisiana Swamp Folktale

  Now I’ll just bet that none of you have ever heard the story of Mama Coon Coon and the blue waters of the bayou, have you? Well, we know the story, and I think we need to tell it to you right now. Once upon a time, the waters of the bayou were black – as black as ink. Now, even though these waters were black, they were still filled with lots and lots of fishes, shrimp and crab. And all of the fishermen would wake up early in the morning, long before the sun had even come above the horizon, and they would cast their nets down into the deep, black water. And what a wonderful sight it was at the end of the day to watch those fishermen pulling in their nets overflowing with all kinds of fishes, shrimp and crab. Dulac Louisiana Bayou by  Clem . Licensed under  CC BY-SA 2.0 . Now all the fishermen fished early in the morning, with the exception of one fisherman – or should I say fisherwoman. Her name was Mama Coon Coon. You see, that is the name the local village children gav...

Belle Boyd, Confederate Spy

  One warm spring day, I left my home in Washington, D.C. and took a long drive through the rolling, peaceful farm country in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. I worked in the city as a tax accountant, but most of my co-workers didn’t know about my secret hobby – I was a Civil War collector. Ever since I was a child, I had collected old Civil War books, maps, clothing, and in later years, weapons. Now as a middle-aged man, my interest had grown to what some would call an obsession. Although it’s hard to believe today, this peaceful Virginia valley was the scene of some of the bloodiest battles of the war. Driving through this historic land not only satisfied my hunger for history, but calmed my nerves far away from the hustle and bustle of home. Some folks say that ghosts wander the earth in places where horrible deaths took place, their lives suddenly ripped away from them before they knew what happened. So it’s no wonder that so many Civil War ghost stories come from the Shenandoah V...