Not all people are the same, one of them is stupid and has no sense of anything, while the other understands life with his intelligence. embodied. He was able to gain a special position with his wisdom and intelligence. But the character of the young man lives in the image of a fool in the story. It is the character, behavior, and extreme curiosity of this character that makes one surprised by the fact that he listens to everyone’s words.
In terms of the content of the story, it is reminiscent of the Monkey and the Carpenter fairy tale, the monkey, who did not know why he chose to chop wood, eventually perishes. Therefore, every step taken without a purpose makes a person a fool. Every book taken from the library is capable of making one wiser. But people should not stop because I am a fool. They say that the mind is not for sale in the market, or that the mind is not in the age, so everyone should not complain about the lack of mind, but look for it. The story is ours. The measure of the mind is the word, the measure of words is proverb.
Reminds us that and points out that we should say each word after seven measures.
Rashidova Shahrizoda Zarshidovna 2010- in Karakol district of Bukhara region where she was born. Currently, she is a 7th grade student of the 20th school in the district. In 2023, the year of the Young Reader competition, she was the winner of the stage. Sozim and Sozim homeland, we bow to those who know you,” I I will do everything,” Kamalak stars like Bilimdon 2018 and Zakovat, she was the first prize winner in competitions. Her works were published in publishers such as Just Fistition Edition and Lulu German and British publishers Rashidova Shahrizoda Zarshidovna Covered in Ezgulik newspaper. Her stories are in Wikipedia open encyclopedia and one is in several anthologies, including My goals sari, creators of New Uzbekistan published in collections. Currently she’s on the Youth of Barkamol Avlod Children’s School pen club and Ilhom club azoi.. The first flight of the artist is her new book.
In 1999, Justin Kruger and David Dunning invented a new effect, which they named the “Dunning-Kruger effect”. This is a cognitive bias in which people with limited competence in a certain area overestimate their abilities. Research shows that people who are not experts in any field think that they understand and know a lot in this field. The most interesting thing is that this effect works both ways. A reverse consequence of the Dunning-Kruger effect: people who critically think their abilities are low have been observed to have higher abilities than they thought.
The Dunning-Kruger Effect – People who don’t know much about a subject don’t have the knowledge or skills to spot their mistakes or gaps in knowledge. They cannot see where they are going wrong and think they are doing well.
Conversely, people at the top of a given subject cannot perceive mastery. They don’t know that these areas of skill and knowledge are easy for them to acquire, while it is more difficult for others. According to the Dunning-Kruger effect, we accept information and advice from those who speak first and loudest before the words of a professional in their field.
To distinguish between an expert and a fool, it is necessary to pay attention to some aspects.
Signs of an expert:
1. He says that he does not know that he does not know
2. Speaks less
3. If you argue with them and they know you are ignorant, they will keep quiet
4. There will be imposter syndrome
Signs of an idiot:
1. They talk a lot
2. They speak loudly with confidence
3. When the discussion started, he attacked your personality, not the facts.
This article describes beautiful and interesting places in Uzbekistan, as well as ancient cities, historical monuments and other historical monuments that continue to surprise mankind you will have information. Uzbekistan is a country with ancient history and rich culture. A rich architectural heritage, countless historical monuments and modern shopping centers, unique nature reserves and medicinal gardens, that everyone in our country can see and rest for themselves in sanatoriums and recreation centers, can also visit as a tourist there are many places. The architecture of Uzbekistan is colorful in its own way.
Despite the current globalization, millions of tourists from all over the world visit our country every year the oldest monuments of architectural heritage have been preserved. Famous architectural ensembles are located in Tashkent, Samarkand, Khiva, Bukhara, Termiz, Shahrisabz, Ko’kan and other cities. Excursions to historical architectural monuments of Uzbekistan, but can also offer fun places to spend time with family and friends. This is one of the unique and beautiful places Chashma complex is the heart of Nurota, Navoi region. It is an incredible place full of many legends and tales. Enjoying the shrine complex, seeing the monuments, to look with the hand at ancient and mysterious things, Thousands of people and tourists from all over the world visit this place to pray in the holy land.
According to the legend, forty thousand years ago, a radiant meteorite fell here, after that here a crater and a miraculous water source appeared. Its water is considered healing. That is why the complex was named “Chashma” and the surrounding area was named “Nur”. The people of Uzbekistan have wonderful landscapes and archeological monuments that can only be found abroad, are used to the idea. In Uzbekistan, which has been preserved for centuries and is inextricably linked to folk legends, there are many beautiful places. Therefore, you don’t have to leave the country to travel to amazing destinations and mysterious places.
Another place with an amazing history Rishton pottery workshops. Rishton in the Fergana Valley has long been considered the homeland of excellent pottery. Creating pottery products in Rishton special technology, the secrets of cooking them have been developed. Right now More than 1000 potters are working in Rishton, about 100 of them know all the technologies of pottery art. The products created by Rishton masters are included in the collections of many museums around the world.
The architectural example of Minorai Kalon (Big Tower) in Bukhara was built by Arslan Bugrokhan, the amir of Movarounnahr of the Karakhanid state. Kalon Tower (1127) was built in the 12th century. Minorai Kalon is located in Pop-Kalon square. The tower has a solid circle. The tower has been renovated several times. In particular, the trunk and muqarnas were opened and repaired in 1960 by Bobomurad in 1924. In 1997, on the occasion of the 2500th anniversary of the city of Bukhara, renovation works were also carried out in Minorai Kalon. In addition, the surroundings of the architectural structure were improved and landscaped.
One of the interesting places is Samarkand. Samarkand is one of the oldest cities on our planet, equal to Rome and Athens. It is more than 2750 years old. A person who has traveled to Samarkand feels very good. The natural scenery is beautiful. People are also hospitable. Representatives of various nationalities live here. Samarkand is usually called “Eastern Babylon”. The name Samarkand comes from the Sogdian word Smr’ka d. “means “stone castle” or “stone city”. In ancient times, Samarkand was the capital of the oldest Sogdian state and was called Afrosyab. Among the ancient Greeks and Romans, the city was known as Maracanda.
Samarkand was a very developed city even during the time of Alexander the Great. Historical monuments in the city of Samarkand include “Shahi Zina Ensemble”, “Registan Ensemble”, “Bibikhanim Jame’ Mosque”, “Gori Amir Mausoleum” and many other historical and beautiful places. Shahizinda ensemble in Samarkand in XIV-XV centuries. Shahizinda means “living king”. The oldest of the mausoleums is Kusan Ibn Abbas mausoleum. Tillakori madrasa in Samarkand city. The madrasa founded by Yalangtoshbi in 1646-1659 in Registan Square was called Tillaqori.
The Ashtarkhanid dynasty ruled during the construction of the Tillakori madrasa. In its construction, baked and raw bricks, clay, wood, gold water and precious stones were used. The design of the architectural monument: the gable is deep, the front of the 2 wings is smooth, 2-story rooms, the corners are occupied by mezzanines of equal size. One of the unique features of this architectural monument is that it was originally named after the small mausoleum of Yalangtoshbi Bahadir, however, it was popularly known as Tillakori. In addition, there was a Mirzoyi caravanserai in place of the madrasa.
The architectural structure is the center of attention of many international tourists. In addition, the building was included in the list of UNESCO World Monuments. List of ancient monuments in the city of Tashkent: “Imam Kaffol Shoshiy”, “Zaynutdin”, “Barakkhan”, mausoleums “Sheikh-akhun-Takhur”, “Kokaldosh” madrasa”, “Zangiota Ensemble”. The Kaffol Shoshiy mausoleum in Tashkent is one of the ancient monuments of the 16th century.
Kokaldosh madrasa in Tashkent. In the middle of the 16th century, a 2-story madrasa was built by Barak Khan, the minister of Tashkent governor nicknamed Kokaldosh, to the southwest of Khoja Ahror madrasa and Jome’ mosque. The 2-story building with the gables of the domes reaches 20 meters in height and looks healthy because it is built on a hill.
The list of ancient monuments in the city of Shahrizabz includes: “Oksaroy Building”, “Dorultilovat Ensemble” and many other historical monuments. In the city of Kokand, Khudoyor Khan Horde, the general level of this Horde is rectangular. The building is located on a raised brick foundation, the corners are reinforced with constellations. Historical monuments in the city of Khiva: “Olloquli Khan Madrasa”, “Ichan Castle”, “Dishon Castle”, “Caltaminor”, “Kush gate “, “Nurilloboy Palace ” “Old Ark”, “Muhammad Rahimkhan Madrasa”, “Muhammad Amin Khan Madrasa” and there are other monuments. in the city of Khiva Ichan Castle in the city. In the center of Dishan Castle, there is the “inner city” – Ichan Castle, which has shifted to the east. In the middle of the 19th century, during the reign of Khiva Khan Ollokuli Khan (1825-1842), the outskirts of the city were surrounded by a stronger wall. Khiva is a city with a unique history.
If you travel to Khiva, you will visit beautiful places and learn about its history. Tourists from different countries visit Khiva every year. The city of Khiva attracts everyone with its historical monuments and beauty. It is a city with its own charming beauty and its own history that makes a person who has visited this city want to visit it again. Owner Amir Temur in Tashkent, Samarkand and Shahrisabz, Statues of Mirzo Ulugbek, Alisher Navoi, Jaloliddin Manguberdi in Urganch, and Alpomish in Termez stood tall in Tashkent. Today, there are more than seven thousand monuments in our country, including, 2,500 architectural monuments, more than 2,700 monumental works of art are under state protection.
In summary: If you travel to every city of Uzbekistan, you will see its own beauty. Each city has its own beautiful and ancient monuments and monuments.
Norova Zulfizar is currently a school student since 2007. Lives in Bukhara. He can speak Turkish and English fluently.” Interesting historical places in Uzbekistan”
After the bell rang for the recess, uproar started in Class 2 “B”. It was impossible to understand anything because everyone’s words sounded out of order from all sides. A little girl named Nozima stood in the middle and cried, the children surrounded her. Later it became known that Nozima’s money was stolen. She had been saving her daily lunch money for a long time to buy a present for his mother’s birthday. She asked all her classmates, but could not find any money.
In fact, it was clear that the boy who took it would not give and admit that “I stole.” The next lesson, Nozima and her teacher entered the mother tongue class together. The teacher found out about everything and was very angry with the children. After greeting the children, the teacher thought for a while and said: My children, let’s do something together now. But first, think about how bad it is to steal. Nozima wanted to make her mother happy by buying a gift for this money, after all… Whoever took it, please return it without telling anyone. I will help you.
Then the teacher opened Nozima’s bag and showed it to all the children. It was empty. Then she placed it on a chair in the corner. The teacher once again asked the students to throw the money in this bag. Two students held a large cloth and formed a small shelter next to the bag. All the students stood in line and started to enter from one side of the fabric and exit from the other side. Finally, when all the students passed, the teacher took the bag and checked it. The most surprising thing was that money appeared in the bag!
That day, the boy who stole the money was not ashamed, and the money was returned to its owner. All the children admired the wisdom of the teacher.
Written by Ochildiyeva Shahnoza, student of University of Journalism and communication of Uzbekistan
Translated by Ochildiyeva Dilnoza, student of Samarkand State institute of foreign language
Without you, the seven worlds are too narrow for me.
Your land is holy, and all around it.
Motherland – you are lonely in the flower beds,
My dear bird, you are the best in the world.
You are the genius who gave the climate,
You can’t find a comparison with me.
Abdullah Ariflar, Erkin Vahidlar,
It is written – a beautiful ode for you,
My hands tremble, all are witnesses,
Your name still stands – between the lips…
I started it, and now there’s no going back.
My heart flutters – in my heart.
There’s no way, but it’s never been said,
A passionate name, the word “Motherland” is on the tip of the tongue.
Ismailov Shukurillo 09.08.2024
Ismailov Shukurillo was born on June 5, 2007 in the village of Sarikorgon, Uchkoprik district, Fergana region. As he has a strong interest in music and literature from a young age, he will start studying at the “Children’s Music and Art School” in 2019. Now
26 – 11th grade student of general secondary school. He started writing poems from the age of 12. His creative works have been published several times in regional, regional, republican and international magazines. He actively participated in many competitions and received souvenirs. He was elected as the coordinator of his region by the “Shijoat free volunteering” team.
At the same time, he is busy writing large and small works of art. His future dream is to become a sharp writer and poet.
I don't love
I don't give a damn anymore
I will not burn again,
Lovers are unfaithful,
I don't love a rich girl.
As the waters flow into the stream,
As the rich feed the rich,
The heart is broken,
I don't love a rich girl.
Faithful promises,
Their love is lies,
He laughed at me,
I don't love a rich girl.
A fairy in a white dress,
Mom tell me what to do
I won't come back now
I don't love a rich girl.
Bahram Toji don't cry,
Don't give up,
There are many beauties in the world,
I don't love a rich girl.
When I was very little, my family used to visit my dad’s mother twice a year: once during summer vacation when school was out and again in December, for the Christmas holidays. The main thing on our minds during Those trips was, would the old jalopy my dad drove make It all the way to Franklin County, located about 100 miles South of our home, which was just across the Mississippi From St. Louis.
Bessie lived in a one-time mining Community called Buckner, named after an incompetent Confederate general who served during the Civil War. We were joined at these get-togethers at my grandma’s House by my Aunt Blanche, my dad’s sister, and her husband Art and their two children, David and Christine.
Now, the Millers were everything that we weren’t: my dad worked in a glass factory as “unskilled labor,” while Uncle Art was a Foreman at General Motors in Flint, Michigan. Which meant that Art made about three times as much money as my dad. And never let us forget it.
Where my mom had dropped out of high school at 16 and my Dad never went beyond the 7th grade–he enrolled in FDR’s Civilian Conservation Corps during the Depression, probably helping to grade the park where you grill your hotdogs on the Fourth Of July or making the redwood benches at the forest lodge you use come Autumn–the Millers were “educated,” which in those days meant they had finished high school. Aunt Blanche had even had a year or so of secretarial school, making her the family intellectual; she was very much looked up to!
She had worked for Public Assistance, which in those days was called “Relief.” Being mean to poor people gave her an additional sense of superiority. Dad’s sister’s family always seemed to arrive at Grandma’s at the same time that we did. Perhaps it was a coincidence; maybe Uncle Art Just wanted to show off the new Cadillac he bought every year. In any event, the Millers always commandeered the one spare bedroom, leaving my parents to rough it with the kids, scattered across the living room floor. I guess it had something to do with Dad being the older brother who had always helped take care of his sister, the “baby” of the family. He had helped pay for the secretarial school she had attended, a fact no one ever mentioned.
And so it was one Christmas when I was four years old; my brother Gary was eleven; David was six, and Christine two. During these adventures, my brother always seemed to escape, to pal around with his “hoodlum” friends; wherever he went, he must have sought them out, because he sure found them. More on that at another time. As we pushed through Grandma’s door, we beheld there on the hardwood floor a miracle: the tallest, fullest, most beautiful Christmas Tree that– Even to this day–I ever saw. There were crystal, sharp, brilliant lights– Not like the old ones I was used to, where the red paint on the bulbs was scraping off–in all kinds of magical shapes: doves, reindeer, ginger bread men, Santas and many others.
They glowed bright and clear as Stars. There were the “perpetual motion” ornaments, with little seesaws or propellers which were powered by the heat of the nearby Christmas lights, and the millions of shimmering icicles. Someone had spent long, arduous hours hanging them individually, no one touching the other and each strand reflecting the vivid colors of the ornaments and lights. They were like metal–probably lead-based in those days–stalactites hanging in a Christmas grotto. There were miniature Nativity scenes–done in wood, not the plastic that you see today–with each individual wise man and angel clearly delineated in pewter. There was even a very tiny silvery Christ Child in the creche. Elaborate sun-colored garlands were draped majestically over the boughs, like strands of Golden Fleece. These were intermingled With others, thicker and fluffier and red as the planet Krypton. And the scent of that balsam fir was–heavenly.
And there were presents! Literally scores of beautiful, individually wrapped Christmas presents, all swathed in the finest, prettiest wrapping paper I had ever seen. I wondered, how could any present do justice to such wonderful wrappings? I just stood rapt and absorbed the scene, admiring. My dad said, “Lotta presents this year.” “Yeah, and most of them are probably for Christine and David,” my mother muttered darkly. It didn’t quite register at the time, just what she meant, but I understood later.
I knew that my folks had bought David some more of his seemingly unending supply of comic books and they had gotten for Christine a special friction toy, a kind of large top. When you pressed down on the handle, it spun madly around, rather like a gyroscope, with a fairy princess display encased within the glass bubble, which would unfold and sparkle as music played. I was convinced it had been created by magic elves.. It was a marvel. When mom grumbled about the price, I sagely pointed out that if Santa were going to get Christine a gift anyway, then why did she need to? To my memory, that question went unanswered.
I had badly wanted to play with It before it was wrapped–even if it was a girl’s toy–but my mother admonished me not to break it. “Christine will do that soon enough,” she conjectured wryly. We had dinner: turkey, of course, like a scene out of a Norman Rockwell Illustration; all the trimmings. But that was just a requisite prelude to the real order of the day: the presents, the lucre, the loot! “What if, when I open a present, I don’t like it!” David asked obtusely. Duh! It was a present, you goof! You can’t but like it. What was the matter with this character?
“Just say you like it,” whispered Blanche, glancing furtively at my mom and dad.. “We discussed this, David.” Apparently, his expectations weren’t too high in the present department. My jaw jutted out in resentment at the callous jab at my parents. Finally, we all sat around on the floor to open the presents. David had a big bag of Christmas candy that he wouldn’t share. I may have growled at him. Well, truer words my mom never spoke: virtually every present there was for Christine and David. David got an electric train; David got a new red wagon; David got a first baseman’s mitt; and on and on. Christine didn’t do badly either. These were the days before Barbie dolls and G.I. Joes or else my cousins would have had dozens of each.
Christine was relishing no less than six baby dolls–Tiny Tears was big then–and a crib to put them in, clothes to dress them in, and on and on again. Forgotten was the neat new friction top that my dad had worked two and a half hours to earn the money to buy. That was left idle, still in its box, the wrapping paper scarcely disturbed.
All It had gotten out of my cousin was a petulant, “I don’t like it!” I could have swatted her like a fly. Grandma got a lot of fussy “old lady stuff” from her children and their spouses. Blanche got a fur coat of some sort that she paraded around in for what seemed like hours, and Art got yet another pipe, like the ones you saw on the back cover of Esquire magazine, with the bright yellow bowls. I don’t believe my parents received anything more than a package of new handkerchiefs apiece, from grandma.. But they were mollified; Christmas was for kids, after all.
My older brother got a cool Timex watch with an expandable metal band, which was all the rage at the time. My parents had spent $10–like $150 Now–to buy that watch because they didn’t want their oldest son to be embarrassed by his Christmas gift in front of the snooty Millers; I was proud of him, too. Of course, David had to upstage him up brandishing His new “chronometer,” like the “kind the frogmen use.” Sea Hunt was also very big back in the day. Lloyd Bridges was a star! What did I get? A tiny cap pistol with a translucent orange plastic handle. I stared down at it, not sure what to say.
While David and Christine were reveling in their loot, I stood there. forlorn, because I didn’t see anything else for me. Whenever I made to select a present, David would jump up and shout, “Mine! Mine!” and snatch it out of my hands. What did I know? I was four years old; I couldn’t read the gift tags. I thought to myself, why did Santa double-cross me? He seemed to like the Millers so much more. Everything in the world seemed to belong to my cousins. My mom touched my shoulder gently and murmured, “There’s no more in there for You, honey.” I caught Dad’s eye and he gave me one of his grins that crinkled his eyes. I knew then that things would be alright.
The pistol hung down limply from my hand. I blinked, but no tears came. Next, my cousin walked up. David glanced down at my pistol, looked over at his Official Roy Rogers Six-Guns–with the real leather holster–then looked back at my tiny cap pistol, and he laughed. He laughed! Ever since that night I’ve felt like I owed my cousin David a punch in the stomach. Sure, I was disappointed that I hadn’t gotten more gifts, but I really felt bad for my parents, whom I loved very much and I knew wanted so much to make me happy.
For my dad, who worked four times harder than Uncle Art but who gleaned so much less from his paycheck; and my Mom, who scrubbed other women’s floors, on her hands and knees, for a buck an hour! So I aimed that wonderful cap pistol with the translucent orange handle–which I have to this day–squarely between David’s eyes and defiantly I pulled the trigger. And ended him!
