Odilia Carmen Chirica

  " A philosopher, having made an appointment to dispute with Nasrudin, called and found him away from home. Infuriated, he picked up a piece of chalk and wrote ‘Stupid Oaf’ on Nasrudin’s gate. As soon as he got home and saw this, the Mulla rushed to the philosopher’s house. ‘I had forgotten’, he said, ‘that you were to call. And I apologise for not having been at home. Of course, I remembered the appointment as soon as I saw that you had left your name on my door.’ " from the book  "The Expliots of the Incomparable Mulla Nasrudin"  by  Idries Shah ...in truth,  OdiliaCarmen

Nasrudin heard that there was a banquet being held in the nearby town, and that everyone was invited. He made his way there as quickly as he could. When the Master of Ceremonies saw him in his ragged cloak, he seated him in the most inconspicuous place, far from the great table where the most important people were being waited on hand and foot. Nasrudin saw that it would be an hour at least before the waiters reached the place where he was sitting. So he got up and went home. He dressed himself in a magnificent sable cloak and turban and returned to the feast. As soon as the heralds of the Emir, his host, saw this splendid sight they started to beat the drum of welcome and sound the trumpets in a manner consonant with a visitor of high rank. The Chamberlain came out of the palace himself, and conducted the magnificent Nasrudin to a place almost next to the Emir. A dish of wonderful food was immediately placed before him. Without a pause, Nasrudin began to rub handfuls of

"One day the villagers thought they would play a joke on Nasrudin. As he was supposed to be a holy man of some indefinable sort, they went to him and asked him to preach a sermon in their mosque. He agreed. When the day came, Nasrudin mounted the pulpit and spoke: ‘O people! Do you know what I am going to tell you?’ ‘No, we do not know,’ they cried. ‘Until you know, I cannot say. You are too ignorant to make a start on,’ said the Mulla, overcome with indignation that such ignorant people should waste his time. He descended from the pulpit and went home. Slightly chagrined, a deputation went to his house again, and asked him to preach the following Friday, the day of prayer. Nasrudin started his sermon with the same question as before. This time the congregation answered, as one man: ‘Yes, we know.’ ‘In that case,’ said the Mulla, ‘there is no need for me to detain you longer. You may go.’ And he returned home. Having been prevailed upon to preach for the third Fridayin su

Jalal, an old friend of Nasrudin’s, called one day. The Mulla said, ‘I am delighted to see you after such a long time. I am just about to start on a round of visits, however. Come, walk with me, and we can talk.’ ‘Lend me a decent robe,’ said Jalal, ‘because, as you see, I am not dressed for visiting.’ Nasrudin lent him a very fine robe. At the first house Nasrudin presented his friend. ‘This is my old companion, Jalal: but the robe he is wearing, that is mine!’ On their way to the next village, Jalal said: ‘What a stupid thing to say! “The robe is mine” indeed! Don’t do it again.’ Nasrudin promised. When they were comfortably seated at the next house, Nasrudin said: ‘This is Jalal, an old friend, come to visit me. But the robe: the robe is his!’ As they left, Jalal was just as annoyed as before. ‘Why did you say that? Are you crazy?’ ‘I only wanted to make amends. Now we are quits.’ ‘If you do not mind,’ said Jalal, slowly and carefully, ‘we shall not say any more about the robe