Nasruddin

Mullah Nasreddin (also spelled Nasruddin) has gathered stories from far and wide during his extensive travels. His peregrinations have taken him from Beijing to Boston, from Delhi to Delaware. He can’t remember where he was born: it was so long ago, and he’s been to so many places, that wherever he is he has a suspicion that it could be his true birthplace.

In the story which follows, SOUP, Nasruddin is invited to a banquet, but the unwitting guards turn him away because of his old, dusty robes and road-worn appearance. Nasruddin returns in splendor, and in his pungent way, unmasks the hypocrisy of the organizers of the banquet.

¶   The First Banquet (retold by Nasruddin)

One day, it happened that someone said something to someone, who said something to someone else, who somehow formed the impression I was an important person. The result of this chain of folly was that I was invited to be the guest of honor at a banquet.

 

I was puzzled but honored to be given such an invitation. At the appointed day I presented myself at the door of the banquet hall. I had walked all day in my usual simple garb to get to the city in which the banquet was being held, and I suppose I could have used some freshening up. At any rate, the guards at the door took one look at me and barred the door.

 

«But I’m Nasruddin, the guest of honor!»

 

«Of course you are!» the guards laughed. One bent toward me and said, «And I am the caliph himself!» At which they both roared with laughter. Still chuckling, they said, «Go away, old man, and don’t let us see you here again!»

 

I obliged them with the first part of their request. The banquet hall was located on the city square, and I recognized a friend’s house on the opposite side. I walked there and knocked. My friend answered.

«Nasruddin!» he embraced me and we gave each other warm greetings and gratitude to Allah, glorious and merciful is He, for this meeting. I came right to the point.

 

«Do you remember that red brocade coat you wanted to give me last year?» I asked.

 

 

«Certainly! It still hangs in my closet, waiting for you. Are you ready to receive it?»

 

«With gratitude,» I replied. «Do you have other plans for it?»

 

«What do you mean, Nasruddin?» he asked.

 

«I just wondered if you would like the coat back after I have borrowed it?»

 

«Oh, no, Nasruddin! It is yours to keep and do with what you wish!»

 

«Just so, my friend. Thank you.» I visited for a brief while, then received the coat and put it on. I made my apologies and departed back across the square, adorned with a dazzling brocade coat with gold brade and colored stones lining the epaulets. The buttons were ivory, the fastenings were jet black. All in all, I was a wonderful sight.

 

The guards bowed low at my approach, and ushered me into the banquet hall. The table was richly laid, and all the guests were there. Someone showed me to a seat at the head of the table, and announced «The august, the wise, the true Nasruddin!» I sat, and everyone else sat at the same moment.

 

They all watched expectantly, waiting to see what the guest of honor would do. The first course was soup. When it was served, all eyes were on me. I picked up my bowl of soup and stood, holding it high. Then I poured the soup down the front of my coat.

 

The guests were astounded. A gasp arose so that the air was almost sucked from the room. Then they broke into remonstrations and shouts. «What are you doing! What are you thinking!»

 

When it was quiet enough so I could speak, I addressed my coat. «O coat, I hope you have enjoyed that delicious soup. It is clear that it is you who are welcome here, not I!» 

One day two small boys decided to play a trick on Mullah Nasruddin. With a tiny bird cupped in their hands they would ask him whether it was alive or dead. If he said it was alive they would crush it to show show him he was wrong. If he said it was dead they would let it fly away and still fool him.

When they found the wise old man they said, «Mullah Nasruddin , that which we are holding, is it alive or dead?»

Mullah Nasruddin thought for a moment and replied, «Ah, my young friends, that is in your hands!»

*    *    *

– «Mullah Nasruddin, why do you always a question with another question?»  

– «Do I?»

*    *    *

A certain man asked Mullah Nasruddin ,

– What is the meaning of fate, Mullah Nasruddin ?

– Assumptions, Mullah Nasruddin replied.

– In what way? the man asked again.

Mullah Nasruddin looked at him and said,

– You assume things are going to go well, and they don’t – that you call bad luck. You assume things are going to go badly and they don’t – that you call good luck. You assume that certain things are going to happen or not happen – and you so lack intuition that you don’t know what is going to happen. You assume that the future is unknown. When you are caught out – you call that Fate.

Nasruddin nearly fell into a pool one day. A man whom he knew slightly was nearby, and saved him. Every time he met Nasruddin after that he would remind him of the service which he had performed. When this had happened several times Nasruddin took him to the water, jumped in, stood with his head just above water and shouted: «Now I am as wet as I would have been if you had not saved me! Leave me alone.”

One day there was a powerful king who decided he would force his people to be truthful.

At the entrance to his kingdom there was a bridge and on the bridge he built a gallows. He put up a notice which announced, «Everyone who enters the kingdom will be questioned. If he tells the truth, he will be allowed to come in. If he lies, he will be hanged.»

Nasruddin was the first to come forward. The guard stopped him and said, «What are you going to do?»

«I am on my way to be hanged,» replied Nasruddin.

«I don’t believe you!»

«In that case, if I have told a lie hang me,» said Nasruddin with a smile.

«But, but, but if I hang you for telling a lie, I will make what you said come true!» said the guard, totally confused.

«That’s right,» said Nasruddin, «so what is the truth?»

¤  Nasreddin and the Pot

•→  Sufi Jokes ⇐

•  What Problem?

Nasruddin was having problems with his memory so he went to see a psychiatrist.

– What’s the problem?   asked the shrink.

– Well, it’s just that I can’t remember anything.

– When did this problem start?   asked the psychiatrist?

– What problem?   said Nasruddin.

An old Sufi story about how to do things the right way . . .

Going To Town

One day

Dovrogheen and his young son went to town with their donkey

Dovrogheen rode, while the son walked

Soon two men approached, and one of them said

«Old man, it is shameful that you ride while your young son walks»

So

after they passed

Dovrogheen got off the donkey, and lifted his son onto it

and they proceeded

Dovrogheen walking

Soon, two women approached  and

when they were within hearing distance one of them said

«It is disrespectful my boy, to ride on that donkey while your aged father walks «

So

After they passed, Dovrogheen got back on the donkey

and  they were both now riding

In a while, a man and his wife came up to them and said

«What a cruel thing you do, my friends, both riding that poor donkey

Do you want to break his back?»

and so

Dovrogheen got off the donkey, lifted his son down

and they proceeded along the road to town

all three walking

       Just as they came to the outskirts of the town

a group of young students on some steps

looking across the road, began to laugh

«Look at this, my friends, here’s a lesson for you

two dunces have a donkey to ride

but instead

they are going walking

How foolish can you get?»

LAST  WISHES

Nasruddin is with his cronies drinking coffee. They are discussing death …

«When you are in your casket and friends and family are mourning upon you, what would you like to hear them say about you?»

The first crony says, «I would like to hear them say that I was a great doctor of my time, and a great family man.»

The second says, «I would like to hear that I was a wonderful husband and school teacher which made a huge difference in our children of tomorrow.»

Nasrudin says, «I would like to hear them say… LOOK!! HE’S MOVING!!!»

∇  The Honest Smuggler ⇓