I was glad to read Rabin Tuladhar's letter in #131. Before that I always thought that it might be a cultural issue that I don't find "Under My Hat" really funny. Sometimes there are rays of lights in terms of comedy (and I think "Too good to be true" #130, was a good example) but most of the time it seems like something has to fill the last page. Maybe you could invite some guest writers for the ironic round-off of your paper to give new potentials in this field a space to express their ideas.

Tobias Denskus,
email

. I just discovered that I am not the only one who starts reading your paper from the back with Under My Hat. Your front page is too depressing, can you do something about it? The last Hat on disembarkation cards was hilarious.

Ivan Lind,
email

. I am an irregular reader of your weekly for its political analysis and investigative reporting. I would like to make few comments about the language used by its editor Kunda Dixit in his Under My Hat column. It is not easy to understand not only for me, but for most newspaper-lovers who are not from the English-speaking background. Can he make it more simple and clear? Isn\'t that what journalism is supposed to be, so people can understand what you are saying?

Chun Bahadur Gurung
Editor, Jwala Weekly

. I don't know what kind of chap Rabin Tuladhar at AIT is, but he sounds like a grouch. Kunda Dixit deserves the nation's highest awards and medals for that spoof on disembarkation cards. Let's hope the authorities haven't read the column yet and changed the cards, otherwise we will have lost a source of free in-flight entertainment. It is difficult to improve on Under My Hat, but here are some suggestions. In the box for "Passport" with "Passport colour, Place of Issue, Date of Issue and Best Before" may be he should have added: "Passport: Stolen, Forged, Red" so that we know who is who and what is what. And under "nationality", he should have also added "past nationality" for the thousands of friends from neighbouring countries who have adopted Nepal as their motherland.

Ritu Thapa,
Samakhusi