One of our ‘permanent house guests’ is Mullah Nasruddin. My husband Taba comes from the Azerbaijani part of Iran, where most people seem to possess an inexhaustible repertoire of Mullah stories. Taba is known to have a story that begins with “Once, the Mullah …” for almost any occasion, and they all seem so apt; there seems to be a Nasruddin story for every event or mood!Hundreds of stories about Mullah Nasruddin are enjoyed throughout the world; some are from ancient days, some are still being created. Many cultures claim him as their own, though the names he is known by sound different, and spellings in the written versions vary. Iranians and Azerbaijanis, as well as Indians know this wise-fool as Mullah Nasruddin or Naseeruddin, while Turks and Greeks call him Hoja Nasreddin, and Kazakhs have Koja Nasreddin. In Arab countries he is Juha or Goha
Nasruddin is a wonderful example of the wise fool, his words often carrying a peculiar ‘afterthought’ kind of logic. Our laughter at these stories reflects our deeper recognition of his truth, which may be upside down and backwards, but in the end actually makes sense.
Once the Mullah was asked by a local farmer whether his olive trees would bear olives that year. "Oh yes, they will," said Mullah Nasruddin.
"How do you know?"
"I just know, that is all."
Later the same man saw Nasruddin leading his donkey along the seashore, looking for driftwood. "There is no wood here, Mullah, I have looked," he called out. But hours later the same man saw Nasruddin making his way home, tired out, still without fuel.
"You are a man of perception, who can tell whether an olive tree will bear or not. Why can't you tell whether there is wood at the seashore?"
"I know what must be," said Nasrudin, "but I do not know what may be."
Though characterized by humor, Nasruddin stories deal with issues fundamental to human nature. Themes include those like rank, hierarchy and privilege, social injustice, ignorance, arrogance, narrow-mindedness and self-centeredness. Though most of the stories are set in 13th century chai-khanehs or teahouses, in public baths, caravanserai and market places, Mullah's observations about human nature are so insightful and told so cleverly that they have the power to entertain and teach those of us from very different times, different places and cultures.
Once, the Mullah felt it was time to visit a Turkish bath.
The high-ceilinged chambers and washrooms were swarming with people glad to escape the heat outside.As his clothes were old and shabby, Nasruddin was handed a worn, soiled towel, a tiny scrap of soap - and then ignored.
Still, on his way out, he left a generous tip - a gold coin.
The following week when he went to the bath again, he was treated like a pasha; big soft clean towels, special soap at the soaking pools, an enervating massage with scented oil.
On his way out, he threw a small copper coin to the attendants.
They rushed after him: "Why master, didn't you like the service? The last time you were here you gave us a gold coin."
"Ah, but the gold was for this time, my good men,” The Mullah genially explained. “The copper is for my last visit."
Storytellers conjured up a Nasruddin to fit their needs and purposes. You will find a bumbling Mullah we can simply laugh at, or one that gets the better of the rich and powerful, or a wise Mullah who nudges our awareness, though in peculiar ways, and awakens and teaches us.
Once, the Mullah was invited by the people of the city to deliver a sermon.
He began by asking "Do you know what I am going to say?" The audience replied "No, sir, we don’t."
Gathering up his robes around him in annoyance, he declared: "I have no desire to speak to people who don't even know what I will be talking about." And he left.
The people felt embarrassed and called him back again the next day. This time when he asked the same question, the people quickly chorused, "Yes, yes, we do!" at which Nasruddin snapped, "Well, since you already know what I am going to say, I won't waste any more of your time and mine." And again he walked off.
Now the people were really perplexed, in fact, some were thoroughly annoyed; so they worked on a new strategy. They decided to invite the Mullah to speak again the following week. This time too, he asked the very same question - "Do you know what I am going to say?"
The people had planned their response, and so half of them answered "Yes!" while the other half replied, just as strongly, "No!"
This time, they were sure, they had him.
Mullah Nasruddin looked slowly around the room: "Those of you who know what I am going to say, can tell it to the other half who don’t…" and swept out once again.
Sometimes you meet a bold subversive Mulla who makes fun of unjust power and fanaticism, a wily Mulla who gets the better of others even when he messes up, one who cannot resist making fun of pomposity and rank.
Once the Mullah had invited a self-important visiting scholar to his house for a meal. Arriving at Nasruddin's house, he knocked and knocked. No answer. He peered in through the windows. There was no-one there. The scholar waited and waited, becoming angrier and angrier. “Doesn't he realize who I am?" the scholar thundered as he stomped around Nasruddin's courtyard.
After a good amount of waiting, he became so angry he grabbed a piece of charcoal he found in the yard, and scrawled the words “Stupid Fool” on Mulla’s door before he left.
Nasruddin returned way past lunch time, and suddenly remembered the meeting.
He rushed back to the marketplace shouting for the scholar, and found him in a tea shop.
"Oh, I am so sorry, please forgive me, I had forgotten about our appointment, but remembered when I saw your name written on my door."
Among my favorite Mulla stories are those that highlight an ‘obvious’ truth which is usually overlooked, and show an unexpected angle which challenges our assumptions and makes us examine them afresh. In fact, the older Mulla stories communicate an almost mystic awareness. The twists and flips in Mulla stories, by disrupting our usual linear cause-and-effect analytic thought patterns, toss us into the intuitive ‘field of the possible’, in which learning happens.
Mullah Nasruddin, as guest of Tamerlane’s court spent his days dressed in pure silk robes, sitting and eating at the royal table. Royal advisers actually sought his advice while the powerful laughed heartily at the bite of his jokes, and in appreciation, they also showered him with gold coins.A party of young noble princes at the court, rich and brave, though not particularly experienced, turned to the old Mullah one day to demand: "Now tell us Seeker of the Truth, from all that you must know; how many grains of sand make a heap?"
"I do not know, blue-blooded princes.""Why, then will you care to tell us, Respected Dervish, this simple thing: Why can you see in a mirror your right and left eye and ear reversed in the reflection, but not your face up side down?"
"If only I knew, noble offspring of lordly fathers.""Then tell us at the least, Honorable Sheikh, what is the meaning of life?"
"This I only know, that I do not know, splendid princes."At this, the noblemen exclaimed: "You don't know this, and don't know that! Why then are you, old ignoramus, fed and dressed and honored at the royal tables?”
"Actually, noble masters", replied Mullah, "I am dressed in silk and fed with good food and paid in gold only for the little that I do know. If I were to be rewarded for what I don't know, all the treasuries of the world put together would not be sufficient."
The Mullah Nasruddin stories will last as long as there is learning -- and laughter.
May the Mullah stories journey us to insight and wisdom through laughter.
Marguerite Theophil
Told by generation after generation, the traditional stories
projected the deepest wishes of the folk,
generalized diverse characters into a few types,
selected the incidents that would most strikingly illustrate
what heroes and heroines, witches, enchanters, giants and dwarfs,
the haughty, the envious and the unfaithful were capable of.
As in work long thought about and lived with, the stories
have something which the most brilliant improvisations are without –
depth, fullness, a mysterious relation of parts.
We can think upon them, reflect over them…
~ Padraic Colum
