Odilia Carmen Chirica

" Walking one evening along a deserted road, Mulla Nasrudin saw a troop of horsemen coming towards him. His imagination started to work; he saw himself captured and sold as a slave, or impressed into the army. Nasrudin bolted, climbed a wall into a graveyard, and lay down in an open tomb. Puzzled at his strange behaviour, the men – honest travellers – followed him. They found him stretched out, tense and quivering. ‘What are you doing in that grave? We saw you run away. Can we help you?’ ‘Just because you can ask a question does not mean that there is a straightforward answer to it,’ said the Mulla, who now realised what had happened. ‘It all depends upon your viewpoint. If you must know, however: I am here because of you , and you are here because of me .’" from the book  "The Expliots of the Incomparable Mulla Nasrudin"  by  Idries Shah ...in truth,  OdiliaCarmen

  " 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...

"The philosophers, logicians and doctors of law were drawn up at Court to examine Nasrudin. This was a serious case, because he had admitted going from village to village saying: ‘The so-called wise men are ignorant, irresolute and confused.’ He was charged with undermining the security of the State. ‘You may speak first,’ said the King. ‘Have paper and pens brought,’ said the Mulla. Paper and pens were brought. ‘Give some to each of the first seven savants.’ They were distributed. ‘Have them separately write an answer to this question: “What is bread?”’ This was done. The papers were handed to the King, who read them out: The first said: ‘Bread is a food.’ The second: ‘It is flour and water.’ The third: ‘A gift of God.’ The fourth: ‘Baked dough.’ The fifth: ‘Changeable, according to how you mean “bread”.’ The sixth: ‘A nutritious substance.’ The seventh: ‘Nobody really knows.’ ‘When they decide what bread is,’ said Nasrudin, ‘it will be possible for them to decide other thi...

To the Sufi, perhaps the greatest absurdity in life is the way in which people strive for things – such as knowledge – without the basic equipment for acquiring them. They have assumed that all they need is ‘two eyes, a nose and a mouth’, as Nasrudin says. In Sufism, a person cannot learn until he is in a state in which he can perceive what he is learning, and what it means. Nasrudin went one day to a well, in order to teach this point to a disciple who wanted to know ‘the truth’. With him he took the disciple and a pitcher. The Mulla drew a bucket of water, and poured it into his pitcher. Then he drew another, and poured it in. As he was pouring in the third, the disciple could not contain himself any longer: ‘Mulla, the water is running out. There is no bottom in that pitcher.’ Nasrudin looked at him indignantly. ‘I am trying to fill the pitcher. In order to see when it is full, my eyes are fixed upon the neck, not the bottom. When I see the water rise to the neck, the pitcher will b...

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...