NASRUDDIN STORY (WISDOM STORY)

1. Humble (retold by Nasruddin)

My beloveds, I remember a time long ago when I was still a Mulla. I lived in a small town, just big enough for a real mosque, with a beautiful mosaic wall. I remember one evening, we had finished our prayers. The stars were clear and bright, and seemed to fill the sky solidly with lights. I stood at the window, gazing at the lights so far away, each one bigger than our world, and so distant from us across vast reaches of space. I thought of how we walk this earth, filled with our own importance, when we are just specks of dust. If you walk out to the cliffs outside the town, a walk of half an hour at most, you look back and you can see the town, but the people are too small to see, even at that meager distance. When I think of the immensity of the universe, I am filled with awe and reverece for power so great.

I was thinking such thoughts, looking out the window of the mosque, and I realized I had fallen to my knees. "I am nothing, nothing!" I cried, amazed and awestruck.

There was a certain well-to-do man of the town, a kind man who wished to be thought very devout. He cared more for what people thought of him than for what he actually was. He happened to walk in and he saw and heard what passed. My beloveds, I was a little shy at being caught in such a moment, but he rushed down, looking around in the obvious hope someone was there to see him. He knelt beside me, and with a final hopeful glance at the door through which he had just come, he cried,

"I am nothing! I am nothing!"

It appears that the man who sweeps, a poor man from the edge of the village, had entered the side door with his broom to begin his night's work. He had seen us, and being a man of true faith and honest simplicity, his face showed that he entertained some of the same thoughts that had been laid on me by the hand of Allah (wonderful is He). He dropped his broom and fell to his knees up there in a shadowed corner, and said softly,

"I am nothing...I am nothing!"

The well-to-do man next to me nudged me with his elbow and said out of the side of his mouth,

"Look who thinks he's nothing!"

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2. 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!"

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3. The Tale of the Stupid Oaf (retold by Nasruddin)

As I was saying, beloveds, I moved to Tekka's village permanently, which means my stay there was longer than usual. I rented a little apartment, and met the landlord to look it over and get the key (that's yet another story!). The landlord pointed out that the door was very special, and added just a tiny amount to the rent, because, he said, this type of door was in great demand. The special effect was that it was a two-way door: you could go out as well as in! Believe me, I was impressed. I suspected the window might also be special, and what do you know...I was right! The window was also a special two-way window: you could see out as well as in.

"That's wonderful!" I told the landlord, and took it, because the rent was really very reasonable. As soon as I had moved in (this process involved laying my little pack in the corner), I went to find the most important person in the village. I wanted to know what the local customs were, the rules of the village, and so on, so I could be a good citizen.

The most important person was a man (today that might not be the case) who lived near the center of the village. I went to him and said,

"Oh honored sir, I beg of you a few minutes to enlighten me. I have just moved to this village, and wish to know the customs and rules so I may be a good citizen."

The important person cleared his throat impatiently, and said, "I have much important work to do! I have no time for you! But I am passing by your house at two o'clock. Meet me then."

"You know where I live?" I was amazed at his omniscience.

"I own the building," he said gruffly.

"Two o'clock, then!" I replied, and I went to the market to buy some vegetables. I bought a few vegetables for my dinner: carrots, onions, beet greens, and my favorite...lentils! Then I found a comfortable tree in the square and sat down to watch the people in the marketplace.

I felt a little drowsy, but kept myself awake, until I didn't. I woke with a start, and saw that the shadows were long; the sun was low, and it was very late. I jumped up and ran to my apartment as fast as I could. There I found someone had taken a piece of white stone and scratched on my door, "STUPID OAF."

I hurried to the important person's place, and bowed low, and told him,

"Oh, sir, I am so sorry I missed our appointment. I remembered it, though, as soon as I saw you had written your name on my door!"