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The genre of parables has a venerable age. The wisdom of the generations that inhabited the Earth has long been preserved in instructive stories. Oriental parables are noted for their unique flavor. Their heroes are gods, rulers, wandering monks, in a word, carriers of the truth about the world. On the pages of this book, they turn to readers with a word about love, goodness, happiness and the benefits of sciences. They warn against plunging into the abyss of vices such as slander, greed, human stupidity. The parables and legends included in the book, which existed in the Arab, Chinese and Indian world, are presented in the presentation of the brilliant Russian feuilletonist Vlas Doroshevich.
- Arabian parables and legends
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company liters.
© Design. LLC "AST Publishing House", 2017
Arabian parables and legends
The Arabs, as you know, my friend, and everything is Arabic. In the Arab State Duma - they call it Dum-Dum - they decided to finally begin to issue laws.
Having returned from their places, from their camps, the selected Arabs shared their impressions. One Arab said:
- It seems that the population is not particularly happy with us. One hinted at it to me. Called us quitters.
Others agreed.
- And I have heard hints. They call us parasites.
“They called me a bum.
- And they fired a stone at me.
And they decided to take up the laws.
- It is necessary to issue such a law at once, so that its truth is evident to everyone.
- And so that he does not stir up any disputes.
- So that everyone agrees with him.
- And so that he does not bring a loss to anyone.
- He will be wise and sweet to everyone!
Selected Arabs thought and came up with:
- Let's issue a law that twice two is four.
- Truth!
- And no one is offended.
Someone objected:
“But everyone already knows that.
He was reasonably answered:
- Everyone knows that you can't steal. However, the law says about it.
And the Arab elect, having gathered in a solemn meeting, decided:
- It is declared by the law, ignorance of which no one can excuse himself, that always and under all circumstances twice two will be four.
Upon learning of this, the viziers - this is how Arab ministers are called, my friend - were very worried. And they went to the grand vizier, who was as wise as the gray.
They bowed and said:
- Have you heard that the children of misfortune, the chosen Arabs, began to make laws?
The Grand Vizier stroked his gray beard and said:
- I'll stay.
- That they have already issued a law: twice two four?
The Grand Vizier replied:
- I'll stay.
- Yes, but they will reach Allah knows what. They will issue a law so that it is light during the day and dark at night. So that the water is wet and the sand is dry. And the inhabitants will be sure that the day is light, not because the sun is shining, but because the children of misfortune, the chosen Arabs, decided so. And that the water is wet and the sand is dry, not because Allah created it, but because they decreed it. People will believe in the wisdom and omnipotence of the chosen Arabs. And they will think about themselves Allah knows what!
The Grand Vizier said calmly:
- Will Dum-Dum issue laws or not, I stay. It will exist, - I remain, and it will not, - I also remain. There will be two, two, four, or one, or a hundred - I do not care and no matter what happens, I remain, I remain, and I remain, as long as Allah wants me to stay.
So spoke his wisdom.
Wisdom is dressed in serenity, like a mullah in a white turban. And the agitated viziers went to the meeting of the sheikhs ... This is something like their State Council, my friend. We went to the meeting of sheikhs and said:
- This cannot be left like that. It is impossible for the chosen Arabs to take away such power in the country. And you must take action.
And a great conference of sheikhs met, with the participation of the viziers.
The first among the sheikhs, their chairman, stood up, bowed to no one out of importance and said:
- Glorious and wise sheikhs. The children of misfortune, the chosen Arabs, acted as the most skillful conspirators, the most vicious troublemakers, the greatest robbers and the most vile swindlers: they announced that twice two is four. Thus they made the very truth serve their nefarious purposes. Their calculation is clear to our wisdom. They want to accustom the stupid population to the idea that the truth itself speaks through their mouths. And then, no matter what law they issue, the stupid population will consider everything as true: "after all, it was decided by the selected Arabs, who said that twice two is four." To crush this villainous plan and discourage them from legislating, we must abolish their law. But how to do this, when twice two is really four ?!
The sheikhs were silent, setting their beards, and finally turned to the old sheikh, the former grand vizier, the sage, and said:
“You are the father of misery.
So, my friend, the Arabs call the constitution.
- The doctor who made the incision must be able to heal it. Let your wisdom open its mouth. You were in charge of the treasury, compiled a list of income and expenses, lived all your life among numbers. Tell us if there is any way out of the hopeless situation. Is twice two always four?
The sage, the former grand vizier, the father of misfortune, stood up, bowed and said:
- I knew you would ask me. Because, although they call me the father of misfortune, for all their dislike for me, they always ask me in difficult times. So a person who breaks his teeth gives no one pleasure. But when nothing helps from a toothache, they send for him. On the way from the warm coast where I lived, contemplating how the purple sun plunges into the azure sea, stripes of its gold, I recalled all the reports and murals that I made, and found that twice two could be anything. Looking out of necessity. And four, and more, and less. There were reports and paintings, where twice two were fifteen, but there were, where twice two were three. Looking at what needed to be proven. Less often, twice two was four. I, at least, do not remember such a case. So says the experience of life, the father of wisdom.
Listening to him, the viziers were delighted, and the sheikhs were in despair and asked:
- But what is, finally, arithmetic? Science or art?
The old sheikh, the former grand vizier, the father of misfortune, thought, was embarrassed and said:
- Art!
Then the sheikhs in despair turned to the vizier, who was in charge of scholarship in the country, and asked:
- In your position, you constantly deal with scientists. Tell us, Vizier, what do they say?
The vizier got up, bowed, smiled and said:
- They say: "What do you please." Knowing that your question would not escape me, I turned to the scientists I had left and asked them: "How much is twice two?" They bowed and replied, "As much as you want." So, no matter how much I asked them, I could not get any other answer, except: "as you please" and "as you command." Obedience has replaced arithmetic in my schools, as have other subjects.
The sheikhs fell into deep sorrow. And they exclaimed:
“It does honor, O Vizier in charge of scholarship, and the scholars you have left, and your ability to choose. Perhaps such scientists will lead the youth on the proper path - but they do not lead us out of the difficulty.
And the sheikhs turned to sheikh-ul-Islam.
- Due to your duties, you always deal with mullahs and are close to divine truths. Tell us you the truth. Is twice two always four?
Sheikh-ul-Islam stood up, bowed to all sides and said:
- Venerable, noble sheikhs, whose wisdom is covered with gray hair, like a dead body with a silver cover. Live and learn. Two brothers lived in the city of Baghdad. God-fearing people, but people. And they had a concubine. On the same day, the brothers, who acted in accordance with each other in everything, took concubines for themselves, and on the same day the concubines conceived by them. And when the time of childbirth approached, the brothers said to themselves: "We want our children to be born not from concubines, but from our lawful wives." And they called the mullah to bless their two marriages. Mulla rejoiced in his heart at such a pious decision of his brothers, blessed them and said: “I am crowning your two unions. Now there will be one family of four. " But the minute he said this, both newlyweds were relieved of the burden. And twice two became six. The family began to consist of six people. This is what happened in the city of Baghdad and what I know. And Allah knows more than me.
The sheikhs listened with delight to this incident from life, and the vizier in charge of the country's trade stood up and said:
- Not always, however, twice two is six. This is what happened in the glorious city of Damascus. One man, foreseeing the need for a small coin, went to the robber ...
The Arabs, my friend, do not yet have the word "banker." And in the old way they just say "robber."
“I went, I say, to the robber and exchanged two gold pieces for silver piastres. The robber took the exchange and gave the man one and a half gold pieces of silver. But it did not happen as the man had expected, and he did not have the need for a small silver coin. Then he went to another robber and asked him to exchange silver for gold. The second robber took the same amount for the exchange and gave the man one gold. Thus, two gold pieces, twice exchanged, turned into one. And twice two turned out to be one. This is what happened in Damascus and is happening, sheikhs, everywhere.
The sheikhs, hearing this, came to an indescribable delight:
- This is what life teaches. Real life. And not some chosen Arabs, children of misfortune.
They thought and decided:
- The selected Arabs said that twice two is four. But life refutes them. You can’t make laws that are not life. Sheikh-ul-Islam says that twice two is six, and the vizier in charge of trade pointed out that twice two is one. In order to maintain complete independence, the assembly of sheikhs decides that twice two is five.
And they approved the law decreed by the chosen Arabs.
- Let them not say that we do not approve their laws. And only one word was changed. Instead of "four" they put "five".
The law read like this:
- It is declared by law, ignorance of which no one can excuse himself, that always and under all circumstances, twice two will be five.
The case went to the conciliation commission. Everywhere, my friend, where there is "misfortune", there are conciliation commissions.
A violent argument arose there. Representatives of the Sheikh Council said:
- Aren't you ashamed to argue over one word? In the whole law, only one word has been changed for you, and you are making such a fuss. Be ashamed!
And the representatives of the selected Arabs said:
- We cannot return without a victory to our Arabs!
They argued for a long time.
Finally, the representatives of the elected Arabs declared emphatically:
- Either you yield, or we will leave!
Representatives of the council of sheikhs consulted among themselves and said:
- Good. We will make an assignment to you. You say four, we say five. Let it not be offensive to anyone. Neither your way nor our way. We concede half. Let two and two be four and a half.
The representatives of the selected Arabs consulted among themselves:
- Still, it's better to have some law than none.
- Still, we forced them to make a concession.
- And you won't achieve it anymore.
And they announced:
- Good. Agree.
And the conciliation commission from the elected Arabs and the council of sheikhs announced:
- It is declared by law, ignorance of which no one can excuse himself, that always and under all circumstances twice two will be four and a half.
This was announced through heralds in all bazaars. And everyone was delighted.
The viziers were delighted:
- They gave a lesson to the selected Arabs, so that even twice two four proclaim with a look around.
Sheikhs were delighted:
- It didn't work out in their way!
The selected Arabs were delighted:
- Still, the sheikh council was forced to make concessions.
Everyone congratulated themselves on the victory.
And the country? The country was overjoyed. Even chickens - and they had fun.
There are such and such, my friend, in the world Arabian tales.
Fairy tale
once
Allah Akbar! By creating a woman, you created a fantasy.
She said to herself:
- Why not? There are many houris in the prophet's paradise, many beauties in the earthly paradise - in the caliph's harem. In the gardens of the prophet I would not have been the last of the houris; among the wives of the padishah, perhaps, I would have been the first of the wives, and among the odalisques - the first of his odalisques. Where corals are brighter than my lips, and their breath is like the air of noon. My legs are slender, and like two lilies - my chest - lilies, on which specks of blood appeared. Happy is he who bows his head on my chest. He will have wonderful dreams. As the moon on the first day of the full moon, my face is bright. How black diamonds burn my eyes, and the one who, in a moment of passion, looks into them close, close - no matter how great he is! - will see himself in them so small, so small that he will laugh. Allah created me in a moment of joy, and all I am is a song to my creator.
She took it and went. Dressed only in her own beauty.
On the threshold of the palace, the guard stopped her with horror.
- What do you want here, a woman who forgot to put on not only a veil!
- I want to see the glorious and powerful Sultan Harun al-Rashid, padishah and caliph, our great ruler. May Allah alone be the master of the earth.
- May Allah's will be in everything. What is your name? Shamelessness?
- My name: Truth. I'm not angry with you, warrior. Truth is often mistaken for shamelessness, as well as lies for shame. Go and report me.
In the palace of the Caliph, everyone was agitated when they learned that the Truth had come.
- Her arrival often means leaving for many! Said Grand Vizier Jiaffar thoughtfully.
And all the viziers felt the danger.
- But she is a woman! - said Giaffar. - It is customary in our country that the one who does not understand anything about it is engaged in any business. That is why eunuchs are in charge of women.
He turned to the great eunuch. Keeper of peace, honor and happiness of the padishah. And he said to him:
- The greatest of eunuchs! There came a woman relying on her beauty. Delete her. Remembering, however, that all this is happening in the palace. Remove her like a courtier. So that everything is beautiful and decent.
The great eunuch went out onto the porch and looked with dead eyes at the naked woman.
- Do you want to see the Caliph? But the caliph should not see you like that.
- Why?
- They come to this world in this form. In this form, they leave him. But you cannot walk in this form in this world.
- Truth is only good when it is naked truth.
- Your words sound right, like the law. But the padishah is above the law. And the padishah will not see you like that!
- Allah created me this way. Beware, eunuch, condemn or condemn. Condemnation would be madness, reproof would be insolence.
- I do not dare to condemn or condemn what Allah created. But Allah created the potatoes raw. However, before eating potatoes, they are boiled. Allah created the lamb meat full of blood. But to eat lamb meat, it is first fried. Allah made rice as hard as bone. And to eat rice, people boil it and sprinkle it with saffron. What would they say about a person who would eat raw potatoes, raw lamb meat and gnaw raw rice, saying: "Allah made them so!" So is the woman. In order to be undressed, she must first be dressed.
- Potatoes, lamb, rice! - Truth exclaimed indignantly. - And apples, and pears, sweet melons? Are they also boiled, eunuch, before they are eaten?
The eunuch smiled the way eunuchs and toads smile.
- The crust is cut off the melon. Skin is removed from apples and pears. If you want us to do the same with you ...
Truth hastened to leave.
- With whom did you speak this morning, at the entrance to the palace and, it seems, spoke harshly? - asked Harun al-Rashid the guardian of his peace, honor and happiness. - And why was there such confusion in the palace?
- Some woman, shameless to the point that she wants to walk the way Allah created her, wanted to see you! - answered the great eunuch.
- Pain will give birth to fear, and fear will give birth to shame! - said the caliph. - If this woman is shameless, treat her according to the law!
- We do your will before it is uttered! Said Grand Vizier Jiaffar, kissing the ground at the feet of the sovereign. - With a woman it was done!
And the sultan, looking at him with favor, said:
- Allah Akbar!
Allah Akbar! By creating woman, you created stubbornness.
It occurred to the truth to enter the palace. To the palace of Garun al-Rashid himself.
Truth put on a hair shirt, girded herself with a rope, took a staff in her hand, and again came to the palace.
- I am Conviction! She said sternly to the guard. - In the name of Allah, I demand that I be admitted to the Caliph.
And the guard is horrified - the guards are always horrified when an outsider approaches the Caliph's palace - the guard ran in horror to the Grand Vizier.
“That woman again! - he said. - She is covered with a hair shirt and calls herself the Conviction. But from the eyes I saw that she is the Truth.
The viziers were agitated.
- What disrespect for the Sultan to go against our will!
And Jiaffar said:
- Exposure? This already concerns the great mufti.
He called the great mufti and bowed to him:
- May your righteousness save us! Act piously and courtly.
The Grand Mufti came out to the woman, bowed to her to the ground and said:
- Are you conviction? Blessed be your every step on earth. When the muezzin from the minaret sings the glory of Allah and the faithful gather in the mosque for prayer, come. Decorated with carvings and mother-of-pearl sheikh's chair, I bow down to you. Expose the faithful! Your place is in the mosque.
- I want to see the Caliph!
- My child! The state is a mighty tree whose roots are deeply embedded in the earth. The people are the leaves that cover the tree, and the padishah is the flower that blooms on this tree. And the roots, and the tree, and the leaves - everything so that this flower blooms magnificently. And it was fragrant and decorated the tree. This is how Allah created! Allah wants it! Your words, the words of Conviction, are truly living water. Blessed be every dewdrop of this water! But where did you hear, child, that the flower itself should be watered? Water the roots. Water the roots so that the flower blooms magnificently. Water the roots, my child. Go from here in peace, your place is in the mosque. Among ordinary believers. Convict there!
And with tears of anger in her eyes, Truth left the gentle and gentle mufti.
And Harun al-Rashid asked that day:
- This morning, at the entrance to my palace, you spoke to someone, Grand Mufti, and spoke meekly and affectionately, as always - but for some reason there was an alarm in the palace at that time? Why?
The mufti kissed the ground at the feet of the padishah and replied:
- Everyone was worried, and I spoke meekly and kindly, because it was crazy. She came in a hair shirt and wanted you to wear a hair shirt too. It's ridiculous even to think! Is it worth it to be the ruler of Baghdad and Damascus, Beirut and Belbek to wear a hair shirt! This would mean being ungrateful to Allah for his gifts. Such thoughts can only come to the insane.
“You’re right,” said the Caliph, “if this woman is insane, she should be treated with pity, but make sure that she cannot harm anyone.
“Your words, padishah, serve as praise for us, your servants. This is what we did to the woman! - said Giaffar.
And Harun al-Rashid looked gratefully at the sky, which had sent him such servants:
- Allah Akbar!
Allah Akbar! By creating a woman, you created a cunning.
It occurred to the truth to enter the palace. To the palace of Garun al-Rashid himself.
Truth ordered to get itself motley shawls from India, transparent silk from Brusa, gold-woven fabrics from Smyrna. From the bottom of the sea, she got herself yellow amber. She cleaned herself with feathers of birds, so small that they look like golden flies and are afraid of spiders. She cleaned herself with diamonds that look like large tears, rubies like drops of blood, pink pearls that appear on the body as a trace of kisses, sapphires, like pieces of the sky.
And, telling miracles about all these wonderful things, cheerful, joyful, with glowing eyes, surrounded by an innumerable crowd that listened to her with greed, delight, with a sinking heart, approached the palace.
- I'm a Fairy Tale. I am a Fairy Tale, colorful, like a Persian carpet, like spring meadows, like an Indian shawl. Listen, listen to how my wrists and bracelets on my arms and legs are ringing. They ring in the same way as the golden bells on the porcelain towers of the Chinese bogdykhan ring. I'll tell you about it. Look at these diamonds, they are like the tears that a beautiful princess shed when the darling went to the ends of the world for fame and gifts for her. I will tell you about the most beautiful princess in the world. I will tell you about a lover who left on the chest of his sweetheart the same kiss marks as this pink pearl. And her eyes at that time became matte with passion, large and black, like the night or this black pearl. I will tell you about their caresses. About their caresses that night when the sky was blue-blue, like this sapphire, and the stars shone like this diamond lace. I want to see the padishah, may Allah send him as many decades of life as there are letters in his name, and double their number and double again, because there is no end and limit to Allah's generosity. I want to see the padishah in order to tell him about the forests of palm trees, curled with lianas, where these birds, like golden flies, fly, about the lions of the Abyssinian Negus, about the elephants of Raja Jaypur, about the beauty of Taj Magal, about the pearls of the ruler of Nepal. I am a Fairy Tale, I am a colorful Fairy Tale.
And having heard her stories, the guard forgot to report her to the viziers. But the Fairy Tale was already seen from the windows of the palace.
- There's a fairy tale! There is a motley tale!
And Jiaffar, the grand vizier, said, stroking his beard and smiling:
- She wants to see the padishah? Let her go! Should we be afraid of fiction? Anyone who makes knives is not afraid of knives.
And Harun al-Rashid himself, hearing a cheerful noise, asked:
- What's there? In front of the palace and in the palace? What kind of dialect? What's that noise?
- It's a Fairy Tale! Dressed up Fairy Tale into miracles! Everyone in Baghdad now listens to it, everyone in Baghdad, young and old, and cannot hear enough. She has come to you, lord!
- Allah may there be one master! And I want to hear what each of my subjects hears. Let her go!
And all the carved, ivory, and mother-of-pearl doors opened before the Tale.
And amid the bows of the courtiers and the prostration of the fallen slaves, the Tale passed to the Caliph Harun al-Rashid. He greeted her with an affectionate smile. And the Truth in the form of a Tale appeared before the Caliph.
He said to her, smiling affectionately:
- Speak, my child, I am listening to you.
Allah Akbar! You have created the Truth. It occurred to the truth to enter the palace. To the palace of Garun al-Rashid himself. Truth will always get its way.
Kizmet!
Behind the high mountains, behind a dense forest lived the Queen Truth.
The whole world was full of stories about her.
Nobody saw her, but everyone loved her. Prophets spoke about her, poets sang about her. At the thought of her, blood burned in my veins. She was dreamed of in a dream.
One she appeared in dreams in the form of a girl with golden hair, affectionate, kind and gentle. Others dreamed of a black-haired beauty, passionate and formidable. It depended on the songs of the poets.
Some sang:
- Have you seen how on a sunny day, like the sea, a ripe cornfield walks in golden waves? This is the hair of the queen of Truth. They pour molten gold down her bare shoulders and back and touch her legs. Her eyes burn like cornflowers in ripe wheat. Get up on a dark night and wait for the first cloud to turn pink in the east, the harbinger of morning. You will see the color of her cheeks. Like an eternal flower, the smile on her coral lips blooms and does not fade. The Truth, which lives there, behind high mountains, behind a dense forest, always smiles to everyone.
Others sang:
The waves of her fragrant hair are black like a dark night. Eyes shine like lightning. Pale beautiful face. Only the chosen one will smile, a black-eyed, black-haired, formidable beauty who lives there, behind a dense forest, behind high mountains.
And the young knight Khazir decided to see the Queen Truth.
There, behind the steep mountains, behind the thicket of an impenetrable forest, all the songs were sung, there is a palace made of heavenly blue, with columns of clouds. Happy is the brave who will not be frightened by the high mountains, who will pass through the dense forest. He is happy when he reaches the azure palace, tired, exhausted, and falls on the steps and sings a call song. A naked beauty will come out to him. Allah has only seen such beauty once! The heart of a young man will be filled with delight and happiness. Wonderful thoughts will boil in his head, wonderful words - on his lips. The forest will part before him, the mountains will bow their peaks and level with the ground in his path. He will return to the world and tell about the beauty of the Queen of Truth. And listening to his inspired story about her beauty, everyone, how many people in the world, - everyone will love the Truth. Her alone. She alone will be the queen of the earth, and the golden age will come in her kingdom. Happy, happy is he who sees her!
Khazir decided to go and see the Truth.
He sat on an Arabian horse, white as milk. He pulled himself tight with a patterned belt, hung himself with his grandfather's weapon with a gold notch.
And, bowing to his comrades, women and old knights, who had gathered to admire the young man, he said:
- Wish me a good journey! I am going to see the Queen of Truth and to look into her eyes. I'll come back and tell you about her beauty.
He said, gave the spurs to his horse and rode. The horse rushed like a whirlwind over the mountains, spun along the paths along which even a goat would have difficulty galloping, spread out in the air, and flew over the abyss.
And a week later, on a tired and exhausted horse, the knight Khazir drove up to the edge of a dense forest.
There were cells at the edge, and among them golden bees were buzzing at the bee-house.
Here lived the wise men who had retired from the earth and thought about heavenly things. They were called: The First Guardians of Truth.
Hearing the horse's footfall, they left the cells and happily greeted the young man hung with weapons. The oldest and most venerable of them said:
- Be blessed every young man's visit to the wise men! Heaven blessed you when you saddled your horse!
Khazir jumped off the saddle, knelt before the wise old man and replied:
- Thoughts are gray hairs of the mind. Greetings to the gray of your hair and your mind.
The old man liked the courteous answer and said:
- The sky has already blessed your intention: you arrived safely to us through the mountains. Have you ruled these goat paths? The archangel led your horse by the bridle. The angels supported your horse with their wings as it, spread out in the air, like a white eagle, flew over bottomless abysses. What good intention brings you here?
Khazir replied:
- I am going to see Queen Truth. The whole world is full of songs about her. Some sing that her hair is as light as the gold of wheat, others that it is black as night. But all agree on one thing: that the queen is beautiful. I want to see her so that I can tell people about her beauty later. May everyone, how many people in the world, love her.
- Good intention! Good intention! - praised the sage. “And you could not have done better than by coming to us for this. Leave your horse, enter this cell, and we will tell you everything about the beauty of the Queen of Truth. Your horse will rest for now, and after returning to the world, you will be able to tell people everything about the beauty of the queen.
- Have you seen the Truth? - exclaimed the young man, looking with envy at the old man.
The wise old man smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
- We live at the edge of the forest, and Truth lives over there, behind a dense thicket. The road there is difficult, dangerous, almost impossible. And why should we, the wise, take this road and undertake vain efforts? Why should we go and see the Truth, when we already know what it is? We are wise, we know. Let's go and I'll tell you all the details about the queen!
But Khazir bowed and put his foot in the stirrup:
- Thank you, wise old man! But I myself want to see the Truth. With my own eyes!
He was already on horseback.
The sage even shook with indignation.
- Don `t move! He shouted. - How? What? Don't you believe in wisdom? Don't you believe in knowledge? Do you dare to think that we can be wrong? You dare not trust us wise men! Boy, puppy, sucker!
But Khazir waved his silk whip.
- Get out of my way! Otherwise I will offend you with a whip, which I did not even offend a horse!
The wise men dashed to the sides, and Khazir raced on a rested horse.
He was followed by the words of the wise men:
- So that you disappear, you scoundrel! May heaven punish you for your insolence! Remember, boy, at the hour of death: whoever insults one wise man insults the whole world! To break your neck, you bastard!
Khazir raced on his horse. The forest grew thicker and higher. Curly shrubs moved into the oak grove. After a day's journey, in a shady, cool oak forest, Khazir drove to the temple.
It was a splendid mosque of the kind rarely seen by any mortal. Dervishes lived in it, who humbly called themselves: Dogs of Truth. And others called them: Faithful Guardians.
When the silent oak grove woke up from the stamping of a horse, dervishes came out to meet the knight, with the supreme mullah at their head.
- May everyone who comes to the temple of Allah be blessed, - said the mullah, - whoever comes in his youth is blessed for life!
- Blessed! - the dervishes confirmed in chorus.
Khazir quickly jumped off his horse, bowed deeply to the mullah and dervishes.
- Pray for the traveler! - he said.
- Where and where are you going from? The mullah asked.
- I am going to return to the world to tell people about the beauty of Truth.
And Khazir told the mullahs and dervishes about his meeting with the sages.
The dervishes laughed when he told how he had to threaten the wise men with a whip, and the supreme mullah said:
- Not otherwise, as Allah himself inspired you with the idea of \u200b\u200bpicking up the whip! You did well to come to us. What could the wise men tell you about the Truth? What they got with their minds! Fiction! And we have all the information about the Queen of Truth, received directly from heaven. We will tell you everything we know, and you will have the most correct information. We will tell you everything that is said about the Queen of Truth in our sacred books.
Khazir bowed and said:
- Thank you, father. But I did not go to listen to other people's stories or read what is written in the sacred books. I could do this at home. Neither myself nor the horse was worth the trouble.
Mulla frowned slightly and said:
- Oh well! Don't be stubborn, my boy! After all, I have known you for a long time. I knew you when I was still in the world, when you were very young, and I often held you on my knees. I knew your father Gafiz, and I knew your grandfather Ammelek very well. Your grandfather Ammelek was a nice man. He also thought about the queen Truth. He had the Koran in his house. But he did not even reveal the Koran, he was content with what he was told about the Truth of the dervishes. He knew that the Quran must have said the same thing - well, that's enough. Why else read a book! Your father Gafiz was also a very good man, but this one was wiser. Whenever he thinks about the Truth, he will take the Koran himself and read it. He will read it and calm down. Well, you went even further. Look what you are. Even books are not enough for you. He came to ask us. Well done, praise, praise! Come on, I'm ready to tell you everything I know. Ready!
Khazir smiled:
Mulla sighed:
- Who knows! Who knows! Anything can be! Man is not a tree. You look at the shoot - you don't know what will grow: oak, pine or ash.
Khazir was already on horseback.
- Well, that's what! - he said. - Why leave to my son what I can do myself?
And he touched the horse. The mulla grabbed him by the rein.
- Stop, wicked! How dare you, after all I've said, keep going? Oh, the wrong dog! So you dare, then, do not believe either us or the Koran!
But Khazir gave spurs to his horse. The horse soared, and the mullah flew to the side. In one leap Khazir was already in the thicket, and after him the curses of the mullah, the cries and howls of dervishes rushed.
“Damn you, wicked! Damn you, vile offender! Whom did you insult by insulting us? Let the hot nails bite into your horse's hooves with every step! You're going to doom!
- Let your belly burst! Let your insides crawl out like reptiles, like snakes! - howled the dervishes, rolling on the ground.
Khazir continued on his way. And the path became more and more difficult. The forest is becoming more frequent, and the thicket is becoming impassable. We had to make our way at a step, and even then with great difficulty.
Suddenly there was a cry:
- Stop!
And, looking ahead, Khazir saw a warrior who stood with a drawn bow, ready to release a trembling arrow from a tight bowstring. Khazir stopped the horse.
- Who it? Where are you going? Where from? And why are you on your way? The warrior asked.
- What kind of person are you? - Hazir asked him in turn. - And by what right do you ask? And for what need?
- And I ask for such a right and for such a need, - answered the warrior, - that I am a warrior of the great padishah. And I was assigned with my comrades and with the leaders in order to guard the sacred forest. Got it? You are at the outpost, which is called the "Outpost of Truth," for it was set up to guard the Queen of Truth!
Then Khazir told the warrior where and why he was going. Hearing that the knight was on his way to the azure palace of Truth, the warrior called his comrades and leaders.
- Do you want to know what the Truth really is? - said the main leader, admiring the expensive weapons, the glorious horse and the valiant landing of Khazir. - Good intention, young knight! Good intention! Get off your horse soon, let's go, I'll tell you everything. In the laws of the great padishah, everything is written what the Truth should be, and I will readily read it to you. You can then come back and tell.
- Thank you! - answered Khazir. - But I went to see her with my own eyes.
- Hey! - said the leader. - Yes, we, brother, are not wise men for you, not mullahs and not dervishes! We don't know how to talk a lot. Get off your horse, quickly, without talking!
And the leader took up his saber. The warriors also bowed their spears. The horse, frightened, pricked up its ears, snored and backed away.
But Khazir thrust spurs into his sides, bent down in his bow and, whistling over his head with a crooked saber, shouted:
- Get out of the way, to whom life is still sweet!
Behind him were only shouts and howls.
Khazir was already flying through the dense thicket.
And the tops of the trees were closing more and more densely overhead. Soon it became so dark that night reigned in the forest during the day. Thorny bushes blocked the road like a solid wall.
The noble horse, exhausted and exhausted, patiently endured the blows of the whip and finally fell. Khazir went on foot to make his way through the forest. The thorny bush tore and tore at the clothes on it. Among the darkness of the dense forest, he heard the roar and rumbling of waterfalls, swam across stormy rivers and was exhausted in the struggle against forest streams, cold as ice, mad as animals.
Not knowing when the day ended, when the night began, he wandered around and, falling asleep on the wet and cold ground, tortured and bloody, he heard all around in the forest thicket howling jackals, hyenas and the roar of tigers.
So he wandered through the forest for a week and suddenly staggered: it seemed to him that lightning had blinded him.
Straight out of the dark, impassable thicket, he went out into a clearing bathed in dazzling sunlight.
Behind a black wall stood a dense forest, and in the middle of a meadow covered with flowers stood a palace, as if made of heavenly blue. The steps to it sparkled like snow on mountain tops. Sunlight wrapped around the azure and, like a cobweb, dressed it with thin golden lines of wondrous verses from the Koran.
The dress hung in rags on Khazira. Only the gold-engraved weapon was intact. Half-naked, mighty, with a bronze body, hung with weapons, he was even more beautiful.
Khazir, staggering, reached the snow-white steps and, as was sung in the songs, exhausted and exhausted, fell to the ground.
But the dew that covered the fragrant flowers with diamonds refreshed him.
He got up, full of strength again, he did not feel any more pain from abrasions and wounds, he did not feel tiredness either in his arms or legs. Khazir sang:
- I came to you through a dense forest, through a dense thicket, through high mountains, through wide rivers. And in the impenetrable darkness of the dense pine forest, I was as bright as day. The intertwining tops of the trees seemed to me like a gentle sky, and the stars burned for me in their branches. The roar of the waterfalls seemed to me the murmur of streams, and the howl of jackals sounded like a song in my ears. In the curses of the enemies, I heard the kind voices of friends, and the sharp bushes seemed to me a soft, gentle fluff. I was thinking about you! I went to you! Come out, come out, queen of my soul's dreams!
And, hearing the quiet sound of slow steps, Khazir even closed his eyes: he was afraid that he would go blind from the sight of a wonderful beauty.
He stood with a beating heart, and when he mustered up the courage and opened his eyes, there was a naked old woman in front of him. Her skin, brown and wrinkled, hung in folds. Her gray hair matted in her hair. The eyes were watering. Hunched over, she barely held on, leaning on a cane. Khazir staggered back in disgust.
- I am the Truth! - she said.
And since the dumbfounded Hazir could not move her tongue, she smiled sadly with her toothless mouth and said:
- And you thought to find a beauty? Yes, I was like that! On the first day of the creation of the world. Allah Himself has seen such beauty only once! But, after all, since then, centuries of centuries have rushed by for centuries. I am as old as the world, I have suffered a lot, but this does not make it any more beautiful, my knight! Not done!
Khazir felt that he was going crazy.
- Oh, these songs are about golden-haired, about black-haired beauty! He moaned. - What will I say now when I return? Everyone knows that I left to see the beauty! Everyone knows Khazir - Khazir will not return alive without fulfilling his word! They will ask me, they will ask: “What are her curls - golden, like ripe wheat, or dark as night? How do cornflowers or how lightning do her eyes burn? " And I! I will answer: “Her gray hair is like matted hairballs, her red eyes are watering” ...
- Yes Yes Yes! - Truth interrupted him. - You will say it all! You will say that brown skin hangs in folds on crooked bones, that a black, toothless mouth has sunk deep! And everyone will turn away from this ugly Truth with disgust. No one will ever love me again! Dreaming of a wonderful beauty! Blood will not burn in anyone's veins at the thought of me. The whole world - the whole world will turn its back on me.
Khazir stood in front of her, with an insane look, clutching his head:
- What can I say? What can I say?
Truth fell on its knees before him and, stretching out her hands to him, said in a pleading voice:
Truth and lie
persian legend
Once on the road near a big city a Liar and a Truthful man met.
- Hello Liar! - said the Liar.
- Hello Liar! - answered the Truthful.
- Why are you swearing? - the Liar was offended.
- I don't swear. You are lying.
- This is my business. I always lie.
- And I always tell the truth.
- In vain!
The liar laughed.
- Great thing is to tell the truth! See, there is a tree. You will say: "there is a tree." So any fool would say that. Unsophisticated! To lie, you need to think of something, but to come up with it, you still need to use your brains, and to use them you need to have them. A person is lying, so the mind reveals. And the truth is, therefore, the fool speaks. Can't think of anything.
- You're all lying! - said the Truthful. - There is nothing higher than the truth. Truth adorns life!
- Oh? The Liar laughed again. - If you want, let's go to the city, let's try.
- Let's go to!
- Who will make more people happy: you with your truth, whether I am with my lies.
- Come on. Come on.
And they went to the big city.
It was noon, and therefore it was hot. It was hot, and therefore there was not a soul on the streets. Only the dog crossed some road.
The Liar and the Truthful entered the coffee shop.
- Hello, kind people! - they were greeted by people sitting like sleepy flies in a coffee shop and relaxing under a canopy. - It's hot and boring. And you are road people. Tell us, did you meet anything interesting along the way?
- I haven't seen anything or anyone, good people! - answered the Truthful. - In this heat, everyone is hiding in their homes and in coffee houses. In the whole city only a dog ran across the road.
- And here I am, - said the Liar, - just met a tiger on the street. The tiger ran across my path.
All suddenly came to life. Like flowers exhausted by the heat, if they are sprinkled with water.
- How? Where? What tiger?
- What kind of tigers are there? - answered the Liar. - Big, striped, bared teeth - that's it! He released his claws - here! On the sides of his tail thrashing - evidently angry! I shook as he walked around the corner. I thought I would die on the spot. Yes, glory to Allah! He didn't notice me. Otherwise I shouldn't talk to you!
- There is a tiger in the city!
One of the visitors jumped up and shouted at the top of his lungs:
- Hey, master! Make me some more coffee! Fresh! I'll sit in a coffee shop until late at night! Let the wife scream at home at least until the veins on her neck burst! Here's another! As well as go home when the tiger walks the streets!
“And I’m going to the rich man Hassan,” said another. - Though he is a relative of me, he is not very hospitable, one cannot say. Today, however, as I begin to tell about the tiger in our city, he will become generous, treat him with a lamb and pilaf. I would like to tell in more detail. Let's eat for tiger's health!
- And I'll run to the wali! - said the third. - He sits with his wives, may Allah add years to him, and their beauty! And nothing, tea, knows what is happening in the city! We must tell him, let the anger be replaced by mercy! Vali has long threatened me: "I'll put you in jail!" Says I’m a thief. And now he will forgive, and even reward with money - that the first one made such an important report to him!
By lunchtime, the whole city was only talking about a tiger roaming the streets.
A hundred people saw him personally:
- How not to see? As I see you now, I saw you. Only, he must have been full, did not touch.
And by evening, the tiger's victim was revealed.
It so happened that on that very day the wali servants caught a thief. The thief began to defend himself and even hit one of the servants. Then the servants brought down the thief and were so zealous that the thief went to do the evening prayer before the throne of Allah.
The servants were frightened of their zeal. But only for one moment. They ran to the wali, threw themselves at their feet and reported:
- Mighty wali! Misfortune! A tiger appeared in the city and a thief ate to death!
- I know that the tiger has appeared. Another thief told me about this! - Vali answered. - And what the thief ate, the trouble is not great! As expected! Once the tiger has appeared, he must eat someone. Light is wisely arranged! It's good that a thief!
So since then, the inhabitants, seeing the servants of the wali, crossed over to the other side.
Since the tiger appeared in the city, the wali servants began to fight more freely.
The inhabitants were almost all locked up.
And if someone came to tell the news about a tiger, he was greeted with honor in every house, treated with what they could better:
- Fearless! The tiger is in the city! And you walk the streets!
A poor man, a young man Kazim, came to the rich man Hassan, leading by the hand Hassan's daughter, the beautiful and rich bride Rohe. Seeing them together, Hassan shook with anger.
- Or are there no more stakes in the world? How dare you, beggar scoundrel, contrary to all laws, rules and decencies, dishonor my daughter, the daughter of the first rich man: go along the street with her?
- Thank the prophet, - Kazim answered with a deep bow, - that at least somehow your daughter came to you! Otherwise you would only see her in a dream. Your daughter was almost eaten by the tiger now!
- How so? - Hassan shook with fright.
“I was passing by the fountain, where our women usually take water,” Kazim said, “and I saw Rohe's daughter with pus. Although her face was covered, - but who does not recognize the chamois by the gait and slenderness of the palm tree? If a person, having traveled all over the world, sees the most beautiful eyes, he can safely say: "This is Rohe, daughter of Hassan." He won't be wrong. She went with a jug for water. Suddenly a tiger jumped out from around the corner. Terrible, huge, striped, bared teeth - that's it! he released his claws - here! It hits itself on the sides with its tail, which means - angry.
- Yes Yes Yes! So you are telling the truth! Hassan whispered. - Everyone who saw the tiger describes it that way.
- What did you experience, what did Rohe feel, - ask her herself. And I felt one thing: "I'd rather die, but not Rohe." What will the earth be without her? Now the earth is proud of the sky - many stars are burning in the sky, but Rohe's eyes are burning on the earth. I rushed between the tiger and Rohe and framed my chest to the beast: "Torment!" A dagger flashed in my hand. Allah must have had mercy on me and saved my life for something very good. The dagger's brilliance, or something, the tiger got scared, but only whipped itself along the striped sides, jumped so that it jumped over the house, and disappeared. And I - I'm sorry! - I came to you with Rohe.
Hassan grabbed his head.
- Well, it’s me, you old fool! Don't be angry with me, dear Kazim, just as you are not angry with a madman! I am sitting, an old donkey, and such a dear, honored guest is standing in front of me! Sit down, Kazim! What to treat you to? What to treat? And as you are welcome, let me, brave man, serve you!
And when Kazim, after countless bows, refusals and entreaties, sat down, Hassan asked Rohe:
- Are you very frightened, my goat?
- And now the heart is still trembling like a wounded bird! - answered Rohe.
- What, how can I reward you? - exclaimed Hassan, again turning to Kazim. - You, the most valiant, brave, best young man in the world! What treasures? Demand from me what you want! Allah is the witness!
- Allah is among us! He is a witness! - Kazim said with reverence.
- Allah is the witness of my oath! - confirmed Hassan.
- You are rich, Hassan! - said Kazim. “You have a lot of treasures. But you are richer than all the people in the world, because you have Rohe. I want, Hassan, to be as rich as you! Listen, Hassan! You gave Rohe life, and that's why you love her. Today I gave Rohe life, and therefore I have the right to love her too. Let us both love her.
“I don’t know, really, how Rohe…” Hassan was confused.
Rohe bowed deeply and said:
- Allah is the witness of your oaths. Do you really think that your daughter will put her father to shame before Allah and make him a perjurer?
And Rohe bowed again with obedience.
“All the more so,” Kazim continued, “grief ties the tongue in a knot, joy unties it,“ especially since Rohe and I have long loved each other. Only I did not dare to ask you for it. I am a beggar, you are a rich man! And every day we met at the fountain to mourn our bitter lot. That is why I found myself near the fountain today when Rohe came.
Hassan darkened:
- It's not good, children!
- And if we did not converge at the fountain, - Kazim answered, - the tiger would eat your daughter!
Gassap sighed.
- May Allah's will be in everything and always. We are not going, he is leading us!
And he blessed Rohe and Kazim.
And everyone in the city praised the courage of Kazim, who managed to get himself such a rich and beautiful wife.
They praised so much that even the wali himself envied:
- I need to get something from this tiger too!
And he sent a letter to Tehran with a messenger.
“Grief and joy change like nights and days! - Wali wrote to Tehran. - By the will of Allah, the dark night hanging over our glorious city gave way to a sunny day. Our glorious city was attacked by a fierce tiger, huge, striped, with claws and teeth such that it is scary to look. He jumped over houses and ate people. Every day my faithful servants reported to me that the tiger ate a man. And sometimes he ate two or three, and sometimes four a day. Terror attacked the city, but not me. I decided in my heart: "It is better if I die, but I will save the city from danger." And one went to hunt a tiger. We met with him in a back alley where no one was. The tiger hit itself with its tail on the sides to get even more furious, and rushed at me. But since since childhood I have not been engaged in anything except noble occupations, then I know how to wield a weapon no worse than a tiger's tail. I struck my grandfather's crooked saber between the eyes of the tiger and cut his terrible head in two. Through this I saved the city from terrible danger. What I am in a hurry to notify. Tigrov's skin is currently being dressed, and when it is dressed, I will send it to Tehran. Now I don't send the unworked ones out of fear that the tiger's skin might turn sour on the way from the heat. "
- Look! - Wali said to the clerk. - Be careful when you start rewriting! And then you drink instead of "when it will be dressed" - "when it will be bought!"
From Tehran, the wali sent praise and a golden robe. And the whole city was glad that the brave wali was so generously rewarded.
There was only talk about the tiger, the hunt and the reward. Tired of all this Truthful person. He began to stop everyone at all intersections:
- Well, what are you lying? What are you lying? There has never been a tiger! The Liar invented it! And you are cowardly, boasting, rejoicing! We walked with him, and we never came across any tiger. A dog was running, and even then not mad.
And the talk went in the city:
- Found a Truthful person! Says there was no tiger!
This rumor got through to the wali. He ordered Wali to call the Truthful Man to him, stamped his feet on him, shouted:
- How dare you spread false news in the city!
But the Truthful Man with a bow replied:
“I’m not lying, but telling the truth. There was no tiger - and I am telling the truth: there was not. A dog was running - and I am telling the truth: a dog.
- The truth ?! Vali chuckled. - What is truth? Truth is what the strong says. When I speak to the check, what the check says is true. When I speak to you, what I say is true. Do you want to always tell the truth? Buy yourself a slave. Whatever you tell him, everything will always be true. Tell me, do you exist?
- I exist! - Truthful answered with confidence.
- But in my opinion - no. If I order you to put you on a stake now, it turns out that I have told the purest truth: there is no you in the world! Got it?
The truthful one stood his ground:
- But all the same I will speak the truth! There was no tiger, the dog was running! How could I not speak when I saw it with my own eyes!
- With your eyes?
Vali ordered his servants to bring a golden robe sent from Tehran.
- What is it? - Wali asked.
- Golden robe! - answered the Truthful.
- And why was he sent?
- For the tiger.
- Would they send a golden robe for the dog?
- No, they wouldn't.
- Well, that means you have seen with your own eyes that there was a tiger. If you have a robe, then there was a tiger. Go and tell the truth. There was a tiger, because the robe itself saw for it.
- Yes, in fact, really ...
Then the wali got angry.
- The truth is that they are silent! He said instructively. - If you want to tell the truth, be quiet. Go and remember.
And the Truthful Man went with great dishonor.
That is, in their hearts, everyone respected him very much. And Kazim, and wali, and everyone thought: "But one person in the whole city speaks the truth!"
But everyone shied away from him: who wants to, to a Truthful person assent, to be known as a Liar ?!
And no one would let him on the threshold.
- We do not need lies!
The Truthful Man came out of the city in grief. And towards him comes the Liar, fat, ruddy, cheerful.
- What, brother, are they being driven from everywhere?
- For the first time in your life, you told the truth! - answered the Truthful.
- Now let's count! Who made more happy ones: you are your truth or I am my lie. Kazim is happy - he married a rich man. Vali is happy - he received a robe. Everyone in the city is happy that the tiger did not eat him. The whole city is happy that he has such a brave wali. And through whom? Through me! Who have you made happy?
- Talk with you! - Truthful waved his hand.
“And even you yourself are unhappy. And I - look! They drive you everywhere from the doorway. What can you say? What exists in the world? What everyone knows without you? And I say things that no one knows. Because I'm making it up. It's interesting to listen to me. That is why I am welcome everywhere. One respect to you. And everything else to me! Both reception and refreshments.
- From me and one respect is enough! - answered the Truthful.
The liar even jumped for joy:
- For the first time in my life I lied! Pretty?
- I lied, brother! There is something, after all, and you want!
Wrong heels
The wise Jiaffar, the caring ruler of the city, noticed that the streets and bazaars of Cairo were wandering, staggering, people with pale, as if wax, faces, large drops of sweat on their foreheads and dull eyes. Despicable opium smokers. There were many, very many. This worried the caring ruler of the city. And he summoned all the most respected, noble and richest people of Cairo to his meeting.
After treating them with sweet coffee, Turkish delight, dates stuffed with pistachios, rose petal jam, amber honey, wine berries, raisins, almonds and nuts in sugar, he got up, bowed and said:
- Holy Mufti, honored mullahs, respected qadi, honorable sheikhs and all of you, whom nobility, power or wealth have placed above people! Only Allah, in bearing down wisdom, knows why this madness exists. But all of Cairo smokes opium. People are like water, and discontent is like the fog that rises above the water. People are dissatisfied with life here on earth, and are looking for another in the dreams that the cursed poppy juice brings to them. I called you to ask your wisdom for advice: what should we do in such trouble?
All were politely silent. Only one someone said:
- To arrange life for people here in the world better!
But they looked at him like he was a fool.
The mufti himself rose, bowed and said:
- The people of Cairo are sloths. There are many thieves among them. They are crooks, cheaters, deceivers. And if each of them does not sell their own father, it is only because there are no buyers. But they are godly. And this is the most important thing. It is to their piety that one must turn. Only thought is strong against desires. And thought is a fragrant smoke that comes from fiery words. Words burn and blaze, thoughts flow from them and they cover the minds of listeners with incense. Let me, caring and wise ruler of the city, address the pious people of Cairo with fiery words about the dangers of smoking opium.
The caring ruler of the city replied:
- Allah gave man a language to speak. I allow you to address residents with whatever words you like, as long as these words are not against the police. You can say anything about Allah, but nothing about the police. Allah is almighty and will himself be able to punish the guilty. This is his sacred cause. But I won't let the police touch me. In all other respects, the tongue is as free as a bird. And the words are like birdsong.
On the following Friday, in the largest mosque in Cairo, the mufti climbed a dais and said:
- Creations of Allah! You smoke opium because it is one of the joys in life. Give it up because this is only one of the joys in life. What is life? What does the prophet tell us about her, may peace and blessing be upon him? Do not get carried away by the joys of this life, perishable and transient, because there you will find eternal joys that have no end and no interruption. Don't get carried away with wealth. Mountains of diamonds, rubies, turquoises are waiting for you there. There are tents woven with gold from precious shawls, down, softer than a swan's, pillows are stuffed, and they are soft, like mother's knees. Don't get addicted to food and drink. There is food waiting for you, which you will eat forever, without knowing satiety. And the fresh spring water smells like roses. Don't get carried away with hunting. The forests are full of marvelous birds, indescribable beauty, as if covered with precious stones. And from every bush a gazelle will look at you. And you will shoot them with golden arrows without missing, riding on horses, fast and light as the wind. Do not get carried away by women. There you will serve you obedient houris, beautiful, forever young, not knowing old age, not knowing any worries, except for one thing: to be pleasant to you. Their eyes are full of love, and their words are full of music. Their sighs fill the air with the scent of flowers. When they dance, they look like lilies swinging on their stems. Your opium gives you it only for a moment, and there, there it is forever!
And the better the holy mufti spoke about paradise, the more the desire flared in the hearts of the listeners to know this paradise as soon as possible and to see it at least for one moment.
The more the mufti preached, the more and more opium smoking spread in Cairo.
Soon there was not a single pious person left who did not smoke.
If a person with a blooming face and clear eyes met on the street or in the bazaar, the boys grabbed stones:
“Here is a wicked man who never goes to the mosque! He has not heard how our holy mufti describes paradise, and does not want to see this paradise even for a moment.
All this alarmed the caring ruler of the city of Jiaffar.
He summoned the noblest and noblest inhabitants of the city to a meeting, treated them to coffee and sweets, as demanded by him and their dignity, bowed and said:
- Piety is piety, but to inspire people with good thoughts with the help of words seems to me contrary to nature. A person accepts and spews out the food he has taken from different parts of his body. The same should be true with spiritual food. The head is the stomach, where thoughts are digested, and from the mouth they fly out in the form of words. Since thoughts exit from this end of the body, it means that they must enter from the other end. From this I conclude that good thoughts should be instilled with sticks on the heels. This business is no longer a mufti, but a zaptiev. This is how I understand my responsibilities.
All were politely silent.
The wise and holy dervish who was present at the meeting stopped eating sweets and said:
- You're right. But you have to stick the proper heels!
“I’m going to pound those heels that should be! - said Giaffar.
On the same day, the heralds at all the bazaars and crossroads of the streets of Cairo with a drumbeat at the top of their lungs shouted the order of the caring ruler of the city:
- It is announced to all the good and pious inhabitants of Cairo, - may Allah protect this city for thousands of millennia, - that from now on it is forbidden for everyone, men, women and eunuchs, youths, adults, old people, noble people, slaves, rich people and the poor, to smoke opium, since smoking opium is not only unhealthy, but unpleasant for the boss. Anyone who is convicted of smoking opium, right there, on the spot, immediately, without any further ado, will receive as many sticks on his heels as he can tolerate. And even a little more. About what the ruler of the city Jiaffar - may Allah send him as much happiness as he sent wisdom - has given a proper order to all zaptiya. Let those who have heels think!
Jiaffar gathered his notes to him and said to them:
- From now on, as soon as you see a person with a pale face, sweat and dull eyes, hit him on the heels, like a tambourine. Without any mercy. Go, and may Allah help you in this.
The Zaptias looked cheerfully at the caring ruler of the city. The police are always happy to fulfill the will of their superiors.
And they said:
- Allah send the inhabitants more heels, and the heels of the hands will have enough.
For days and even nights, Jiaffar, sitting in his house, heard the cries of those who had good thoughts hammered into their heels, and rejoiced:
- Extirpate!
The zaptias, as he noticed, began to dress better, their lips and cheeks were shiny with lamb fat - apparently, they ate a young lamb every day - and many even got themselves rings with turquoise.
But opium smoking did not diminish. The coffee houses were full of people who saw heaven with their soulful eyes, but with bodily eyes they looked dim and did not see anything.
- Are you hitting those heels? The caring ruler of the city asked the head of the zaptiev, remembering the words of the wise and holy dervish.
- Master! - he answered, kissing the ground at his feet. - We act on your wise order: as soon as we see a person in sweat, with a pale face and dull eyes, without any mercy, we hit him on the heels.
Jiaffar ordered to send a donkey for a wise and holy dervish.
The wise and holy dervish came with great honor. Jiaffar met him barefoot, because the head of the sage is the house of Allah, and one must approach the dwelling of Allah barefoot.
He bowed to the dervish to the ground and told his grief.
“Seek advice from your wisdom and communicate it to my simplicity.
Dervish came to the house of the caring ruler of the city, sat down in a place of honor and said:
- My wisdom is now silent, because the stomach speaks. Wisdom is smart and knows that the stomach cannot be shouted down. His voice is so loud that when he screams, all thoughts fly out of his head like frightened birds from a bush. I tried to tame him, but this rebel can be dealt with only by fulfilling all his requirements. This rebel listens less to the arguments of reason than anyone else. On the way to you, I met a lamb, but with such a fat tail, which would be nice to see in an adult ram. In my stomach, the thought occurred to me: "It would be nice to see him fried." But reason replied: "We are going to the caring Giaffar, and there a lamb, mending nuts, is waiting for us." The stomach fell silent until we met a chicken, a chicken so fat that she could hardly walk from laziness. "It would be nice to stuff this chicken with pistachios!" - thought the stomach, but the mind answered him: "Caring Giaffar, probably already did it." At the sight of the pomegranate tree, the stomach began to scream: “Where are we going and what are we looking for when happiness is around us? In the heat, what society can be more pleasant than a ripe pomegranate in the shade of a tree? " Reason reasonably replied: "At the caring Giaffar we will have not only ripe pomegranates, but also orange peels, boiled in honey, and all sorts of sorbet that a caring person can think of." So I drove and all the way I thought about kebabs, pilaf, kidneys, roasted chickens with saffron, and soothed my stomach that we’ll probably find all this with you. And in abundance. Now, when I see nothing but you, my stomach screams so loudly that my wisdom is silent for fear of not being heard even by me.
Jiaffar was surprised:
- Do the wise and saints think about such things as kebabs and pilaf?
Dervish laughed:
- Do you really think that delicious things are made for fools? The saints must live for their own pleasure, so that everyone wants to become a saint. And if the saints live badly, and only sinners live well, everyone will prefer to be a sinner. If the saints die of hunger, only a fool wants to be a saint. And then the whole earth will be filled with sinners, and the prophet's paradise - with only fools.
Hearing such wise and just words, caring Jiaffar hastened to prepare a meal for the dervish that would correspond to his wisdom and would be worthy of his holiness.
The wise and holy dervish ate everything with the greatest attention and said:
- Now let's get down to business. Your grief is that you hit the wrong heels.
And fell asleep, as every wise man does after a good dinner.
For three days, thoughtful Giaffar.
What could the wise words of a holy man mean? Finally, he joyfully exclaimed:
- Found real heels!
He summoned all the zaptians of the city to him and said:
- My friends! You complain that the heels of the villagers defeated the hands of the police. But it happened because We were hitting the wrong heels. Wanting to destroy the trees, We cut off the leaves, but we must dig up the roots. From now on, beat without mercy not only those who smoke, but also those who sell opium. All owners of coffee houses, taverns and baths. Do not spare sticks, Allah created whole forests of bamboo.
The Zaptias looked cheerfully at the caring ruler of the city. The police are always happy to receive orders from their superiors. And they said:
- Master! We only regret one thing. That the residents have only two heels. If there were four, we could prove our diligence twice as strong!
A week later, Giaffar saw with joyful amazement that the zaptios were dressed very well, everyone rode donkeys, and no one went on foot - even the poorest, married to only one wife, married four.
And the smoking of opium did not decrease.
The caring Jiaffar fell into doubt:
- Is a wise and holy person really wrong?
And he himself went to the dervish. Dervish greeted him with bows and said:
“Your visit is a great honor. I pay for her with lunch. Whenever you come to me, instead of calling me to your place, it seems to me that an excellent dinner is being taken away from me.
Jiaffar understood and served the saint and the wise a dish with silver coins.
“Fish,” he said, “it's only fish. You can't make eggplants out of it. Eggplant is only eggplant. A lamb is just a lamb. And money is fish, eggplant and lamb. Everything can be done with money. Could these coins replace your lunch?
The wise and holy dervish looked at the dish with silver coins, stroked his beard and said:
- A dish of silver coins is like pilaf, which you can eat as much as you like. But a caring owner adds saffron to pilaf!
Jiaffar understood and sprinkled the silver coins on top with gold ones.
Then the dervish took the dish, with honors led the caring ruler of the city into his house, listened attentively to him and said:
- I'll tell you, Giaffar! Your grief is in one thing: you hit the wrong heels! And opium smoking in Cairo won't stop until you knock off the proper heels!
- But what kind of heels are they?
The wise and holy dervish smiled:
- You just loosened the soil and sowed seeds, and you are waiting for the trees to grow immediately and bear fruit for you. No, my friend, we must come more often and water the trees more abundantly. You gave me a good dinner, for which I thank you again, and brought me money, for which I look forward to thank you again. Happy to stay, Giaffar. I look forward to your invitations or visits, as you please. You are the master, I will obey you.
Jiaffar bowed to the sage as one should bow to a saint. But a storm raged in his soul.
“Maybe,” he thought, “in paradise this saint will be right there, but on earth he is completely inconvenient. He wants to make a goat out of me that comes into the house on its own to be milked! This will not happen! "
He ordered to drive away all the inhabitants of Cairo and said to them:
- Scoundrels! If only you looked at my zaptiev! They fight opium smoking, and see how Allah invisibly helps them. The most unmarried of them became very married some week. And you? You smoke everything you have on opium. Soon your wives will have to be sold for debt. And you will have to become eunuchs in order to somehow maintain your miserable existence. From now on, all of you will be hit on the heels with bamboos! The whole city is to blame, the whole city will be punished.
And then he gave the order to the zaptyas:
- Beat everyone, right and wrong! The wise and holy dervish says that there are some heels that we cannot find. So that there is no mistake, hit everyone. So we will knock on the door that we should. The guilty heels will not slip away from us, and everything will stop.
A week later, not only all the zaptias were beautifully dressed, but also their wives.
And opium smoking in Cairo has not stopped. Then the caring ruler of the city came to despair, ordered to fry, bake, boil, cook for three days, sent a donkey for a wise and holy dervish, met him with a dish filled with only gold coins, treated him and treated him for three days, and only on the fourth he got down to business ... He told his grief.
The wise and holy dervish shook his head:
- Woe is yours, Jiaffar, everything remains the same. You're not hitting the right heels.
Jiaffar jumped up:
- I'm sorry, but this time even I will contradict you! If there is even one guilty heel in Cairo, she now has as many sticks as she should! And even more.
Dervish answered him calmly:
- Sit down. Standing does not make a person smarter. Let's talk calmly. First you ordered to hit on the heels of pale people, sweaty and with dull eyes. So?
- I plucked leaves from harmful trees.
- Zaptii pounded on the heels of people who, all in sweat from work, pale with fatigue and eyes dimmed with fatigue, were returning home from work. You heard the screams of these people in your house. And they took baksheesh from smokers of opium. That is why the zaptikas and began to dress better. Then you ordered to beat on the heels of those who sell opium, the owners of coffee shops, baths, taverns?
- I wanted to get to the roots.
- The zaptias began pounding on the heels of those owners of coffee houses, taverns and baths who did not sell opium. "Trade and pay us baksheesh!" Because of this, everyone began to trade in opium, smoking intensified, and the two became very married. Then you ordered to beat completely on all heels?
- When they want to catch the smallest fish, they throw in the most frequent net.
- The Zaptias started taking baksheesh from everyone. "Pay and shout so that the caring ruler of the city hears how we are trying!" And if you don't pay, sticks on your heels. That's when not only the zaptias were dressed up, but also their wives.
- What should I do? - the caring ruler of the city grabbed his head.
- Don't grab your head. This does not make her more resourceful. Give the order: if they still smoke opium in Cairo, beat the heels with sticks with sticks.
Jiaffar rose in thought.
- Holiness is holiness, and law is law! - he said. - I allow you to say anything, but not against the police.
And he ordered to give the dervish, despite all his wisdom and holiness, thirty sticks on the heels.
Dervish endured the sticks, wisely and justly, thirty times shouted that he was in pain.
He sat on a donkey, hid the money in a bag, rode off ten paces, turned around and said:
- The fate of every person is written in the book of destinies. Your destiny: Always hit the wrong heels.
Green bird
Grand Vizier Mugabedzin summoned his viziers and said:
- The more I look at our management, the more I see our stupidity.
Everyone was dumbfounded. But no one dared to object.
- What are we doing? The grand vizier continued. - We punish atrocities. What could be more stupid than this?
Everyone was amazed, but no one dared to object.
- When a vegetable garden is plowed out, the bad herbs are weeded out together with the root. We only cut the bad grass when we see it - this only makes the bad grass grow even thicker. We are dealing with deeds. And where is the root of the deeds? In thoughts. And we must know thoughts in order to prevent bad deeds. Only by knowing thoughts will we know who is a good person and who is bad. From whom you can expect what. Only then will vice be punished and virtue rewarded. In the meantime, we only cut the grass, and the roots remain intact, which is why the grass only grows thicker.
The viziers looked at each other in despair.
- But the thought is hidden in the head! - said one of them, braver. - And the head is such a bone box that when you break it, the thought flies away.
- But the thought is such a fidget that Allah himself created a way out for her - the mouth! - objected the grand vizier. - It cannot be that a person, having a thought, does not express it to someone. We must know the innermost thoughts of people, such that they express only to the closest ones, when they are not afraid to be overheard.
- We need to increase the number of spies!
The Grand Vizier just chuckled:
- One person has a fortune, the other works. But here is a man: he has no capital either, and does nothing, but eats, as Allah send to everyone! Everyone will immediately guess: this is a spy. And he will start to beware. We already have a lot of spies, but there's no use. Increasing their number means ruining the treasury, and nothing more!
The viziers were at a standstill.
- I give you a week of time! - Mugabedzin told them. - Either in a week you will come and tell me how to read other people's thoughts, or you can get out! Remember, this is about your locations! Go!
Six days have passed. The viziers, when they met each other, just shrugged.
- Made it up?
- Better spies could not invent anything! And you?
- Better spies nothing in the world can be!
There lived a certain Abl-Eddin at the court of the grand vizier, a young man, a joker and a mockingbird. He didn't do anything. That is, nothing worthwhile.
Invented various jokes on respectable people. But since the higher ones liked his jokes, and he joked about the lower ones, Abl-Eddin got away with everything. The viziers turned to him.
- Instead of inventing nonsense, invent something clever!
Abl-Eddin said:
- It will be more difficult.
And he set such a price that the viziers immediately said:
- Yes, this is not a stupid person!
They added up, counted out his money, and Abl-Eddin said to them:
- You will be saved. And how - is it all the same to you? Does it really matter to a drowning man how he is pulled out: by the hair or by the leg.
Abl-Eddin went to the grand vizier and said:
- I can solve the task set by you.
Mugabedzin asked him:
- When you demand peaches from a gardener, you do not ask him: how will he grow them? He will put manure under the tree, and this will make sweet peaches. So is the state affair. Why do you need to know in advance how I will do it. My work is your fruit.
Mugabedzin asked:
- What do you need for this?
Abl-Eddin replied:
- One. Whatever nonsense I may invent, you have to agree to it. At least you were taken by the fear that you and I would be sent to the madmen for this.
Mugabedzin objected:
- I suppose I'll stay in my place, but they'll put you on a stake!
Abl-Eddin agreed:
- As you wish. One more condition. Barley is sown in autumn and harvested in summer. You will give me a deadline from the full moon. On this full moon I will sow, on that full moon I will sow.
Mugabedzin said:
- Good. But remember, this is about your head.
Abl-Eddin just laughed.
- A person is impaled, and they say that we are talking about the head.
And he handed the prepared paper to the Grand Vizier for signature.
The Grand Vizier only grabbed his head, reading it:
- You, I see, terribly want to sit on a stake!
But, faithful to this promise, he signed the paper. Only the vizier, administering justice, gave the order:
- Sharpen the stake more reliably for this fellow.
The next day, heralds in all the streets and squares of Tehran proclaimed, with the sound of trumpets and drums:
“Residents of Tehran! Have fun!
Our wise ruler, the ruler of rulers, possessing the courage of a lion and as bright as the sun, gave, as you know, the management of all of you to the caring Mugabedzin, may Allah prolong his days without end.
Sim Mugabedzin announces. So that the life of every Persian flows in pleasantness and pleasure, let everyone in the house have a parrot. This bird, equally entertaining for both adults and children, serves as a true decoration of the house. The richest Indian rajas have these birds for comfort in their palaces. Let the house of every Persian be decorated in the same way as the house of the richest Indian Raja. Little of! Every Persian should remember that the famous “peacock throne” of the ruler of rulers, taken by his ancestors in the victorious war from the Great Mogul, is decorated with a parrot made of one, whole, unheard-of size emerald. So, at the sight of this emerald-colored bird, everyone will involuntarily remember the peacock throne and the ruler of the rulers sitting on it. The caring Mugabedzin handed over the care of the supply of parrots to all good Persians to Abl-Eddin, from whom the Persians can acquire parrots at a fixed price. Execute this order before the coming of the next new moon.
Residents of Tehran! Have fun! "
The inhabitants of Tehran were given a marvel. The viziers secretly argued among themselves: who had gone more crazy? Abl-Eddin by writing such a paper? Or Mugabedzin, who signed it?
Abl-Eddin ordered a huge transport of parrots from India, and since he sold them for twice as much as he bought, he made good money.
Parrots sat on perches in all houses. The Vizier, Administrator of Justice, sharpened the stake and carefully covered it with tin. Abl-Eddin walked merry.
But now the period from full moon to full moon has passed. A full, brilliant moon rose over Tehran. The Grand Vizier called Abl-Eddin to him and said:
- Well, my friend, it's time to get on the stake!
- Look, don't put me somewhere more honorable! Abl-Eddin replied. - The harvest is ready, go and reap! Go and read minds!
And with the greatest pomp, riding a white Arab horse, by the light of torches, accompanied by Abl-Eddin and all the viziers, Mugabedzin set off for Tehran.
- Where do you want to go? Abl-Eddin asked.
- At least in this house! - pointed out the grand vizier.
The owner was dumbfounded to see such magnificent guests.
The grand vizier nodded his head affectionately. And Abl-Eddin said:
- Have fun, good man! Our caring grand vizier came to see how you are doing, is it fun, is the green bird giving you pleasure?
The owner bowed at his feet and replied:
- Since then, as the wise gentleman ordered us to have a green bird, fun has not left our house. I, my wife, my children, all my acquaintances will not get enough of the bird! Praise to the great vizier who brought joy to our home!
- Perfectly! Perfectly! Abl-Eddin said. - Bring and show us your bird.
The owner brought a cage with a parrot and placed it in front of the grand vizier. Abl-Eddin took pistachios from his pocket and began to pour them from hand to hand. Seeing the pistachios, the parrot stretched, bent down sideways, looked with one eye. And suddenly he shouted:
- Fool the great vizier! What a fool the grand vizier! What a fool! What a fool!
The Grand Vizier jumped up as if stung:
- Ah, vile bird!
And beside himself with rage, he turned to Abl-Eddin:
- Number! On the count of this villain! Invented how to disgrace me ?!
But Abl-Eddin bowed calmly and said:
“The bird didn’t invent it on its own! So she often hears it in this house! This is what the owner says when he is sure that no one else is listening to him! In the face he praises you wise, but for the eyes ...
And the bird, looking at the pistachios, continued to yell:
- The grand vizier is a fool! Abl-Eddin is a thief! Thief Abl-Eddin!
“You hear,” Abl-Eddin said, “the master's innermost thoughts!
The Grand Vizier addressed the owner:
- Truth?
He stood pale, as if he had already died.
And the parrot continued to shout:
- The grand vizier is a fool!
“Stop the damn bird!” - shouted Mugabedzin.
Abl-Eddin twisted the parrot's neck.
- And the owner for a stake!
And the grand vizier addressed Abl-Eddin:
- Get on my horse! Sit down, they tell you! And I will lead him by the bridle. So that everyone knows how I can execute bad thoughts and appreciate the wise!
Since then, according to Mugabedzin, he "read in other people's heads better than in his own."
As soon as his suspicion fell on some Persian, he demanded:
- His parrot.
Pistachios were placed in front of the parrot, and the parrot, looking at them with one eye, told everything that was in the owner's soul. What was most often heard in intimate conversations. He scolded the Grand Vizier, scolded Abl-Eddin. The vizier, administering justice, did not have time to hew the stakes. Mugabedzin weeded the garden so that soon there would be no cabbage left in it.
Then the noblest and richest people of Tehran came to Abl-Eddin, bowed to him and said:
- You invented a bird. Think of her and the cat. What should we do?
Abl-Eddin chuckled and said:
- It is difficult to help fools. But if you come up with something clever the next morning, and I'll come up with something for you.
When Abl-Eddin went out to his waiting room the next morning, its entire floor was lined with gold pieces, and the merchants stood in the waiting room and bowed.
- It's not stupid! Abl-Eddin said. “I’m surprised that such a simple thought didn’t occur to you: strangle your parrots and buy new ones from me. And teach them to say: “Long live the grand vizier! Abl-Eddin is the benefactor of the Persian people! " That's all.
The Persians, sighing, looked at their gold pieces and left. Meanwhile, envy and anger were doing their job. The spies - and there were many of them in Tehran - were disbanded by Mugabedzin.
- Why should I feed the spies when Tehranians themselves feed the spies who are with them! - the grand vizier laughed.
The spies were left without a piece of bread and spread bad rumors about Abl-Eddin. These rumors reached Mugabedzin.
- All Tehran curses Abl-Eddin, and for him the Grand Vizier. "We ourselves have nothing to eat," say the Tehrans, "and then feed the birds!"
These rumors fell on good soil.
The statesman is like food. While we are hungry, the food smells good. When we eat, and look disgusting. The same is the state person. A statesman who has already done his job is always a burden.
Mugabedzin was already burdened by Abl-Eddin:
“Didn't I shower this upstart with honors too much? Was he too proud? I would have come up with such a simple thing myself. It's a simple matter!
Rumors of a murmur among the people came on time. Mugabedzin called Abl-Eddin to him and said:
“You did me a disservice. I thought you'd do something useful. You only brought harm. You lied to me! Thanks to you, there is only murmur among the people and growing discontent! And all because of you! You are a traitor!
Abl-Eddin bowed calmly and said:
- You can execute me, but you will not want to deny me justice. You can put me on a stake, but first we will ask the people themselves: is they murmuring and displeased? You have the means to know the innermost thoughts of the Persians. I gave you this remedy. Turn it against me now.
The next day, Mugabedzin, accompanied by Abl-Eddin, accompanied by all his viziers, drove through the streets of Tehran: "To listen to the voice of the people."
The day was hot and sunny. All the parrots were sitting on the windows. At the sight of the brilliant procession, the green birds goggled and shouted:
- Long live the grand vizier! Abl-Eddin is the benefactor of the Persian people!
So they drove through the whole city.
- These are the innermost thoughts of the Persians! This is what they say to each other at home when they are sure that no one is eavesdropping on them! Abl-Eddin said. - You heard with your ears!
Mugabedzin was moved to tears.
He dismounted from his horse, embraced Abl-Eddin and said:
- I am guilty before you and before myself. I obeyed the slanderers! They will sit on the stake, and you mount my horse, and I will again lead him by the bridle. Sit down, they tell you!
Since then Abl-Eddin did not go out of favor with the grand vizier.
The greatest honor was shown to him during his lifetime. A magnificent marble fountain was erected in his honor with the inscription:
"Abl-Eddin - the benefactor of the Persian people."
The Grand Vizier Mugabedzin lived and died in the deep conviction that he: "He destroyed the discontent in the Persian people and inspired him with the best thoughts."
And Abl-Eddin, who traded in parrots until the end of his days and made a lot of money on it, wrote in his chronicle where this story was taken from: "So sometimes the voices of parrots are mistaken for the voice of the people."
Without Allah
One day Allah got tired of being Allah. He left his throne and palaces, descended to earth and became the most ordinary person. He swam in the river, slept on the grass, picked berries and ate them.
He fell asleep with the larks and woke up when the sun tickled his eyelashes.
Every day the sun rose and went down. It rained on rainy days. The birds sang, the fish splashed in the water. As if nothing had happened! Allah looked around with a smile and thought: “The world is like a pebble from a mountain. Pushed him, he rolls by itself. "
And Allah wanted to see: “How do people live without me? Birds, they're stupid. And fish are stupid too. But how do smart people live without Allah? Better or worse? "
Thought, left the fields, meadows and groves and went to Baghdad.
"Does the city really stand still?" - thought Allah.
And the city stood in its place. Donkeys scream, camels scream, and people scream.
Donkeys work, camels work, and people work. Everything is as it was before!
"Only nobody remembers my name!" - thought Allah.
He wanted to know what people were talking about.
Allah went to the bazaar. He enters the market and sees: a merchant sells a horse to a young guy.
“By Allah,” the merchant shouts, “the horse is very young! Three years were taken away from my mother. Oh, what a horse! Sit on it, you will be a knight. I swear by Allah that I am a knight! And a horse without vices! Here is Allah, not a single vice! Not the smallest!
And the guy looks at the horse:
- Oh, right?
The merchant even threw up his hands and grabbed the turban:
- Oh, how stupid! Oh, what a stupid person! I have never seen such stupid people! How is it not so, if I swear to you by Allah? What do you think I don’t feel sorry for my soul!
The guy took the horse and paid in pure gold.
Allah let them finish the business and went to the merchant.
- How so, kind person? You swear by Allah, but Allah is no more!
The merchant was hiding gold in his wallet at this time. He shook his purse, listened to the ringing and grinned.
- And even so? Why, one wonders, otherwise he would have bought a horse from me? After all, the horse is old, and his hoof is cracked!
And towards him the porter Hussein. Such a kul carries twice as much as he himself. And behind the porter Hussein is the merchant Ibrahim. Hussein's legs give way under the bag. Sweat pours down. Eyes on the forehead crawled out. And Ibrahim follows and says:
- You are not afraid of Allah, Hussein! Took a sack to carry, but carry it quietly! We can't even carry three sacks a day like that. Not good, Hussein! Not good! You should at least think about the soul! After all, Allah sees everything, how you work lazily! Allah will punish you, Hussein.
Allah took Ibrahim by the hand and took him aside.
- Why do you remember Allah at every step? After all, there is no Allah!
Ibrahim scratched his neck.
- I heard about it! But what can you do? How else can Hussein get the coolies to carry around as soon as possible? Coolies are heavy. To add money to him for this is a loss. To beat off - so Hussein is healthier than me, he will beat off himself. Take him to wali - so Hussein will run away on the way. And Allah is stronger than everyone, and you can't run away from Allah, so I frighten him with Allah!
And the day has already leaned towards evening. Long shadows fled from the houses, the skies flared with fire, and a drawn-out song of the muezzin rushed from the minaret:
- La ill ago ill alla ...
Allah stopped near the mosque, bowed to the mullah and said:
- Why are you gathering people to the mosque? After all, Allah is no more!
Mulla even jumped up in fright.
- Hush you! Keep your mouth shut! You shout, they will hear. Needless to say, then the honor will be good for me! Who will come to me if they know that Allah does not exist!
Allah furrowed his eyebrows and soared to the heavens like a pillar of fire in front of the mullah who was numb and crashed to the ground.
Allah returned to his palaces and sat on his throne. And not with a smile, as before, he looked at the ground, which was at his feet.
When the first soul of the faithful appeared before Allah, timid and trembling, Allah looked at her with a searching eye and asked:
- Well, what good have you done in life?
- Your name never left my lips! - answered the soul.
- Whatever I undertake, whatever I do, everything is in the name of Allah.
- And I inspired others to remember Allah! - answered the soul. - Not only did he remember! To others, at every step, with whom he only dealt, he reminded everyone of Allah.
- What a zealous one! Allah grinned. - Well, have you made a lot of money?
The soul trembled.
- That's it! - Allah said and turned away.
And crawling, crawling to the soul, Shaitan crept up, grabbed her by the legs and dragged her. Allah was so angry with the earth.
Judge in heaven
Azrael, the angel of death, flying over the earth, touched the wise qadi Osman with his wing.
The judge died, and his immortal soul appeared before the prophet.
It was at the very entrance to paradise.
From behind the trees, covered with flowers like pink snow, came the ringing of tambourines and the singing of divine houris, calling for unearthly delights.
And from afar, from the dense forests, the sounds of horns, the ringing stomp of horses and the dashing cries of hunters rushed. Brave, on snow-white Arabian horses, they rushed after swift-footed chamois, ferocious boars.
- Let me go to heaven! - said Judge Osman.
- Good! - answered the prophet. “But first you must tell me how you deserve it. This is our law in heaven.
- The law? The judge bowed deeply and put his hand to his forehead and heart in a token of the greatest respect. - It's good that you have laws and you obey them. This I praise in you. The law must be everywhere and must be followed. This is well arranged for you.
- So, how did you deserve paradise? - asked the great prophet.
- There can be no sin on me! - answered the judge. - All my life I did nothing but condemn sin. I was a judge there on earth. I judged, and I judged very severely!
- Perhaps you yourself shone with some special virtues if you judged others? And he judged strictly! The prophet asked.
The judge frowned.
- About virtues ... I will not say! I was the same as all people. But I judged because I received a salary for it!
- Virtue is still small! - the prophet smiled.
- Get paid! I do not know of a single vicious person who would refuse this. It turns out this way: you condemned people for the fact that they do not have those virtues that you do not have. And for this he also received a salary! Those who receive a salary judge those who receive no salary. A judge can judge a mere mortal. And a mere mortal cannot judge a judge, even if the judge was clearly guilty. Something is tricky!
The judge's brow frowned more and more.
- I was judging by the laws! He said dryly. - I knew them all and judged by them.
- Well, and those whom you tried, - the prophet was curious, - knew the laws?
- Oh no! - answered the judge proudly. - Where are they! This is not given to everyone!
- So you tried them for failure to comply with laws that they did not even know ?! - exclaimed the prophet. - Well, what are you? Trying to let everyone know the laws? Tried to educate the ignorant?
- I judged! - the judge answered firmly. - Seeing that the laws are being violated.
- Have you tried to make sure that people do not have to break laws?
- I received a salary to judge! - The judge looked gloomily and suspiciously at the prophet. The judge's brow furrowed, his eyes were angry. “You say the wrong things, prophet, I must tell you! He said sternly. - Dangerous things! You are thinking too freely, prophet! By your reasoning, I suspect you are not Shia, prophet? Sunni shouldn't think that way, prophet! Your words are foreseen in the books of the Sunnah!
The judge thought.
“Therefore, based on the fourth book of the Sunnah, page one hundred twenty-three, fourth line from the top, read from the second half, and guided by the explanations of the wise elders, our holy mullahs, I accuse you, prophet ...
Here the prophet broke down and laughed.
- Go back to earth, judge! - he said. - You are too strict for us. Here, in heaven, it is much kinder!
And he sent the wise judge back to earth.
- But how can I do it when I died? The judge exclaimed. - How to arrange?
- AND! So good! If so, I agree!
And the judge returned to earth.
Caliph and sinner
“For the glory of Allah, One and Almighty. For the glory of the prophet, may peace and blessings be upon him.
In the name of the Sultan and Emir of Baghdad, the Caliph of all the faithful and the humble servant of Allah - Harun al-Rashid, we, the Supreme Mufti of the city of Baghdad, declare a real sacred fatwa - let everyone know.
This is what, according to the Koran, Allah put into our hearts: Wickedness spreads over the earth, and kingdoms perish, countries perish, peoples perish for the sake of luxury, fun, feasts and effeminacy, forgetting Allah.
We want the aroma of piety to rise from our city of Baghdad to the sky, as the fragrance of its gardens ascends, as the sacred calls of muezzins ascend from its minarets.
Evil enters the world through a woman.
They have forgotten the precepts of the law, humility and good manners. They wear jewelry from head to toe. They wear chadors, transparent as the smoke from nargile. And if they are covered with precious fabrics, it is only in order to better expose the disastrous charms of their body. They made their body, this creation of Allah, an instrument of temptation and sin.
Seduced by them, warriors lose courage, merchants - wealth, artisans - love of work, farmers - the desire to work.
Therefore, we decided in our hearts - to pull out the snake's deadly sting.
It is announced for the information of all those living in the great and glorious city of Baghdad:
All dancing, singing and music are prohibited in Baghdad. Laughter is prohibited, jokes are prohibited.
Women should leave the house wrapped from head to toe in white linen blankets.
They are only allowed to make small holes for their eyes so that they do not deliberately bump into men while walking down the street.
Everyone - old and young, handsome and ugly - everyone knows: if any of them sees even the tip of their little finger naked, she will be accused of attempting to kill all the men and defenders of the city of Baghdad and immediately stoned. This is the law.
Execute it as if it were signed by the caliph himself, the great Harun al-Rashid.
By his grace and appointment, Sheikh Gazif, Grand Mufti of Baghdad.
To the sound of drums and trumpets, heralds read such a fatwa at the bazaars, crossroads and at the fountains of Baghdad - and at that very moment the singing, music and dancing stopped in the cheerful and luxurious Baghdad. Like a plague peeped into the city. The city became as quiet as a cemetery.
Like ghosts, women wandered through the streets, wrapped from head to toe in deaf white veils, and only their eyes peeped out of the narrow slits in fright.
The bazaars were deserted, the noise and laughter disappeared, and even the talkative storytellers fell silent in the coffee shops.
People are always like this: they rebel - they rebel that way, and if they begin to obey the laws, they obey in such a way that even the authorities become disgusted.
Harun al-Rashid himself did not recognize his cheerful, joyful Baghdad.
“Wise sheikh,” he said to the great mufti, “it seems to me that your fatwa is too harsh!
- Lord! Laws and dogs must be evil to be feared! - answered the great mufti.
And Harun al-Rashid bowed to him:
- Perhaps you are right, wise sheikh!
At that time, in distant Cairo, the city of fun, laughter, jokes, luxury, music, singing, dancing and transparent women's veils, there lived a dancer named Fatma-khanum, may Allah forgive her for her sins for the joys she brought to people. She turned her eighteenth spring.
Fatma-khanum was famous among the dancers of Cairo, and the dancers of Cairo were famous among the dancers of the whole world.
She had heard a lot about the luxury and riches of the East, and Baghdad sparkled as the largest diamond among the East, she heard.
The whole world spoke about the great caliph of all the faithful, Harun al-Rashid, about his brilliance, splendor, generosity.
The rumor about him touched her pink ears, and Fatma-khanum decided to go east, to Baghdad, to the Caliph Harun-al-Rashid - to please his eyes with her dances.
- The custom requires that every faithful bring the best that he has to the Caliph; I will also bring to the great caliph the best that I have - my dances.
She took her outfits with her and set off on a long journey. The ship on which she sailed from Alexandria to Beirut was overtaken by a storm. Everyone lost their heads.
Fatma-khanum dressed as she usually dressed for dancing.
- Look! - the frightened travelers pointed at her with horror. “One woman has gone mad already!
But Fatma-khanum answered:
- In order for a man to live - he needs only a saber, a woman only needs a dress to match - the man will get her everything else.
Fatma-khanum was as wise as she was beautiful. She knew that everything was already written in the book of Destiny. Kizmet!
The ship was smashed against the coastal rocks, and out of all those who sailed on the ship, one Fatma-khanum was thrown ashore. In the name of Allah, she traveled with accompanying caravans from Beirut to Baghdad.
- But we are taking you to death! - the drivers and guides told her in the form of encouragement. - In Baghdad, you will be stoned for being so dressed!
- In Cairo, I was dressed the same way, and no one even hit me with a flower for it!
- There is no such virtuous mufti as Sheikh Gazif in Baghdad, and he did not issue such a fatwa!
- But for what? For what?
- They say that such a dress excites perverse thoughts in men!
- How can I be responsible for other people's thoughts? I'm only responsible for my own!
- Talk about it with Sheikh Gazif!
Fatma-khanum arrived in Baghdad with a caravan at night.
Alone, in a dark, empty, dead city, she wandered the streets until she saw a house where a fire was shining. And she knocked. It was the home of the great mufti.
So in the fall, during the flight of birds, the wind carries the quail directly into the net.
Grand Mufti Sheikh Gazif did not sleep.
He sat, thinking about virtue and composing a new fatwa, even harsher than the old one ... Hearing the knock, he became alert:
- Isn't it the Caliph Harun al-Rashid himself? He often can't sleep at night and loves to wander around the city!
The mufti himself opened the door and retreated in amazement and horror.
- Female?! Female? I have? The great mufti? And in such clothes?
Fatma-khanum bowed deeply and said:
- My father's brother! By your majestic appearance, by your respectable beard, I can see that you are not a mere mortal. By the huge emerald - the color of the prophet, may peace and blessings be on it - that adorns your turban, I guess that I see before me the great mufti of Baghdad, the venerable, famous and wise Sheikh Gazif. My father's brother, accept me as you would receive your brother's daughter! I am originally from Cairo. My mother named me Fatma. I am a dancer's occupation, if you will call this pleasure an occupation. I came to Baghdad to amuse the eyes of the Caliph of the faithful with my dances. But I swear, Grand Mufti, I knew nothing about the formidable fatwa - undoubtedly fair, for it comes from your wisdom. That is why I dared to appear before you dressed not according to a fatwa. Forgive me, great and wise mufti!
- Allah alone is great and wise! - answered the mufti. - I really am called Gazif, people call me Sheikh, and our great ruler, Caliph Harun al-Rashid, appointed me - above my merits - as a great mufti. Your happiness that you came to me, and not to a mere mortal. An ordinary mortal, on the basis of my own fatwa, would have to immediately send for the consumables or stone you himself.
- What will you do with me ?! - Fatma-khanum exclaimed in horror.
- I? Nothing! I will admire you. The law is like a dog - he must bite others and caress his owners. The fatwa is harsh, but I wrote the fatwa. Make yourself at home, my brother's daughter. If you want to sing - sing, if you want to dance - dance!
But when the sound of a tambourine was heard, the mufti shuddered:
- Hush! Hear! What if the damned cadi learns that the great mufti had a stranger at night ... Oh, these dignitaries! The snake does not bite the snake, and the dignitaries only think how to sting each other. Of course, this woman is beautiful, and I would gladly make her the first dancer of my harem. But wisdom, great mufti. Wisdom ... I'll send this criminal to the kadi. Let him dance in front of him. If the kadi finds her guilty and orders her to be executed, then justice will be done ... The law on my fatwa has never been applied yet, and the law that does not apply is a dog that does not bite. They stop being afraid of her. Well, if the cadi is deceived and has mercy on her, the sting of the cursed snake will be ripped out! The defendant, in whose crime the judge participated, can calmly sleep.
And the great mufti wrote a note to the qadi: “Great qadi! To you, as the supreme judge of Baghdad, I am sending a criminal against my fatwa. As a doctor examines the most dangerous disease without fear of getting sick himself - investigate the crime of this woman. Look at her and her dancing yourself. And if you find her guilty against my fatwa, call for justice. If you recognize it as deserving of indulgence, invoke mercy in your heart. For mercy is above justice. Justice was born on earth, and the homeland of mercy is heaven. "
The great kadi did not sleep either. He wrote the next day the decisions on those cases that he would consider - in advance - "so as not to torment the defendants with waiting for the verdict."
When Fatma-khanum was brought to him, he read the mufti's note and said:
- AND! old echidna! It seems that he himself violated his fatwa and now wants us to break it!
And, turning to Fatma-khanum, he said:
“So you are a stranger, looking for justice and hospitality. Perfectly. But in order to do you justice, I must know all your crimes. Dance, sing, do your criminal acts. Remember one thing: before the judge, you must not hide anything. The fairness of the sentence depends on this. As for hospitality, this is a judge's specialty. The judge always keeps his guests longer than they want.
And that night a tambourine sounded in the kadi's house. The Grand Mufti was not mistaken.
Harun al-Rashid could not sleep that night, and he, as usual, wandered through the streets of Baghdad. The caliph's heart sank with longing. Is this his cheerful, noisy, carefree Baghdad, which usually did not sleep long after midnight? Now snoring came from all the houses. Suddenly, the caliph's heart shuddered. He heard the sound of a tambourine. They played, oddly enough, in the house of the great mufti. After some time, the tambourine rang out in the cadi's house.
- Everything is fine in this most beautiful city! - exclaimed, smiling, the Caliph. - While vice sleeps, virtue rejoices!
And he went to the palace, terribly interested in what happened at night in the house of the great mufti and qadi.
He barely waited for dawn, and as soon as the pink rays of sunrise flooded Baghdad, went into the Lion Hall of his palace and announced the Supreme Court. Harun al-Rashid sat on the throne. Near him stood the guardian of his honor and power - a squire and held a naked sword. To the right of the caliph sat the great mufti in a turban with a huge emerald - the color of the prophet, may peace and favor be upon him. On the left sat the high qadi in a turban with a huge ruby \u200b\u200b- like blood.
The Caliph put his hand on a drawn sword and said:
- In the name of Allah, One and Merciful, we declare the Supreme Court open. May he be as just and merciful as Allah! Happy is a city that can sleep peacefully, because its rulers do not sleep for it. Baghdad slept peacefully tonight, because three did not sleep for him: I am his emir and caliph, my wise mufti and my formidable qadi!
- I made a new fatwa! - said the mufti.
- I was in charge of state affairs! - said the kadi.
“And how joyful it is to indulge in virtue! Like a dance, it is performed to the sound of a tambourine! - Garun-al-Rashid exclaimed cheerfully.
- I interrogated the accused! - said the mufti.
- I interrogated the accused! - said the kadi.
- A hundred times happy is a city where vice is persecuted even at night! - exclaimed Harun al-Rashid.
- We also know about this criminal. We heard about her from a caravan driver we met in the street at night, with whom she arrived in Baghdad. We ordered to take her into custody, and she is now here. Enter the accused!
Fatma-khanum entered trembling and fell before the caliph.
Harun al-Rashid turned to her and said:
“We know who you are, and we know that you came from Cairo to amuse your caliph's eyes with your dances. The best you have, you brought us in the simplicity of your soul. But you violated the sacred fatwa of the great mufti and for this you are subject to trial. Arise, my child! And grant your wish: dance before the caliph. That, from which neither the great mufti nor the wise qadi perished, nor the caliph will die from this, with the help of Allah.
And Fatma-khanum began to dance.
Looking at her, the Grand Mufti whispered, but so that the caliph could hear:
- Oh, sin! Oh sin! She tramples on a sacred fatwa!
Looking at her, the supreme qadi whispered, but so that the caliph could hear:
- Oh, crime! Oh, crime! Her every move is worthy of death!
The Caliph watched in silence.
- Sinner! - said Harun al-Rashid. - From the city of beautiful vice, Cairo, you have arrived in the city of severe virtue - Baghdad. Godliness reigns here. Piety, not hypocrisy. Piety is gold, and hypocrisy is a false coin, for which Allah will not give anything except punishment and death. Neither the beauty nor the misfortunes that you have endured soften the hearts of your judges. Virtue is harsh, and pity is beyond her. Do not stretch out your pleading hands in vain neither to the Great Mufti, nor to the Supreme Qadi, nor to me, your Caliph ... Great Mufti! What is your judgment on this woman who transgressed the sacred fatwa?
The Grand Mufti bowed and said:
- Death!
- Supreme Qadi! Your judgment!
The Supreme Qadi bowed and said:
- Death!
- Death! - I also say. You have transgressed the sacred fatwa and must be stoned right there, on the spot, without a moment's hesitation. Who will be the first to throw a stone at you? I, your caliph! .. I must throw at you the first stone that comes across!
Harun al-Rashid took off his turban, tore off a huge diamond, the glorious "Great Mogul", and threw it into Fatma-khanum. The diamond fell at her feet.
- You will be the second! - said the caliph, addressing the great mufti. - Your turban is adorned with a magnificent dark green emerald, the color of a prophet, may peace and blessing be upon us ... What is the best purpose for such a beautiful stone, if not to punish vice?
The Grand Mufti took off his turban, tore off a huge emerald and threw it away.
- It's your turn, Supreme Kady! Your duty is severe and a huge ruby \u200b\u200bsparkles with blood on your turban. Do your duty!
Kadi took off his turban, tore off the ruby \u200b\u200band threw it away.
- Female! - said Harun al-Rashid. “Take these stones you deserve as punishment for your crime. And preserve them as a memory of the mercy of your caliph, the piety of his great mufti and the justice of his supreme qadi. Go!
And since then, they say, the custom of throwing precious stones at beautiful women has become a custom.
- Sheikh Gazif, my great mufti! - said the caliph. - I hope that today you will eat pilaf for your pleasure. I fulfilled your fatwa!
- Yes, but I am canceling it. She's too harsh!
- How? You said: the law is like a dog. The angrier, the more they fear him!
- Yes, lord! But the dog must bite strangers. If she bites the owner, the dog is put on a chain!
This is how the wise Caliph Harun al-Rashid judged for the glory of Allah, the one and merciful.
from Moorish legends
In the morning, bright and cheerful, Caliph Mahommet sat in a magnificent courtroom in the Alhambra, on a carved ivory throne, surrounded by eunuchs, surrounded by servants. I sat and watched. The morning was lovely.
There was not a cloud in the sky, not a cloud-cobweb. The Lviv courtyard was as if covered with a dome of blue enamel. The valley looked out of the window, emerald, with blossoming trees. And this view in the window seemed to be a picture inserted into a patterned frame.
- How good! - said the caliph. - How wonderful life is. Enter those who poison the quiet joys of life with their disgusting deeds!
- Caliph! - answered the chief eunuch. - Today only one criminal will appear before your wisdom and justice!
- Enter it ...
And Sephardine was brought in. He was barefoot, dirty, in rags. His hands were twisted back with ropes. But Sephardin forgot about the ropes when he was led into the Court of Lions.
It seemed to him that he had already been executed and that his soul had already been transferred to the paradise of Mohammed. It smelled like flowers.
Bouquets of diamonds soared over a fountain resting on ten marble lions.
To the right, to the left, through the arches, one could see chambers covered with patterned carpets.
The multicolored mosaic walls cast a glow of gold, blue, red. And the chambers, from which smelled aroma and coolness, seemed filled with gold, blue, pink twilight.
- Fall on your knees! Fall to your knees! The guards whispered, pushing Sephardin. - You are standing before the caliph.
Sephardin fell to his knees and sobbed. He was not yet in paradise - he was yet to face trial and execution.
- What did this man do? The Caliph asked, feeling that regret stirred in his heart.
The eunuch, chosen to accuse without passion and without pity, replied:
“He killed his comrade.
- How? - angry, exclaimed Makhommet. - You took the life of your own kind ?! What caused this villain to commit the greatest of crimes?
- For the most insignificant reason! - answered the eunuch. - They fought over a piece of cheese that someone dropped and that they found on the road.
- For a piece of cheese! Right Allah! - Makhommet threw up his hands.
- It's not entirely true! - muttered Sephardin. “It wasn't a piece of cheese. It was just a cheese crust. She was not dropped, but thrown. In the hope that the dog will find. And people found it.
- And people gnawed like dogs! The eunuch remarked with contempt.
- Shut up, unfortunate! - shouted Makhommet beside himself with anger. - With every word you tighten the noose on your throat! Because of the cheese crust! Look, despicable! How wonderful life is! How wonderful life is! And you robbed him of it all!
- If I knew that life is such, - answered Sephardin, looking around, - I would never deprive anyone of her! Caliph! Everyone speaks, listens - a sage. Hear me, Caliph!
- Speak! - ordered Makhommet, restraining his indignation.
- Great Caliph! Life here, on the Sacred Mountain, and life there, in the valley from which they brought me - two lives, Caliph. Let me ask you a question!
- Ask.
- Have you ever seen a crust of bread in a dream?
- A crust of bread? - the Caliph was surprised. - I don’t remember such a dream!
- Well yes! A crust of bread! Remember well! - continued, on his knees, Sephardin. - A crust of bread that was thrown. A crust of bread doused with slops. Covered with mold, dirt. A crust of bread that the dog sniffed and did not eat. And would you like to eat this crust of bread, Caliph? Did you hold out your hand to her, trembling with greed? And did you wake up at that moment, in horror, in despair: a crust doused with slops, a crust covered with mold and dirt, only dreamed of! It was only in a dream.
- I have never seen such a strange, such a low dream! - exclaimed the caliph. - I have dreams. Armies of enemies that run before my horsemen. Hunting in gloomy gorges. Wild goats, which I hit with a mark, an arrow ringing in the air. Sometimes I dream of paradise. But I have never seen such a strange dream.
- And I saw him every day and all my life! - Sefardin answered quietly. - In all my life I have not seen another dream! And the one I killed had never seen any other dream in his entire life. And no one in our valley has ever seen anything else. We dream of a crust of dirty bread, how do you like victory and paradise.
The Caliph sat in silence and thought.
- And you killed your friend in the argument?
- I killed. Yes. If he lived like your servants in the Alhambra, I would deprive him of the joys of life. But he lived in the valley like me. I took away his misery. That's all I took away from him.
The Caliph sat in silence and thought.
And like clouds gathering on the top of the mountains, wrinkles gather on his brow.
- The law expects a word of justice from you! - the eunuch-accuser dared to break the silence of the Caliph.
Mahommet glanced at Sephardin.
"Is he waiting to be freed from suffering as well?" Untie it and let it go. Let him live.
Everyone around did not dare to believe their ears: is this how they hear?
- But laws ?! The eunuch exclaimed. - But you, Caliph! But we are! We are all bound by the law.
Makhommet looked at his frightened face with a sad smile.
- We will try to make him dream better in the future, and so that he does not gnaw like a dog over a crust of cheese!
And he stood up as a sign that the judgment was over.
Once Allah came down to earth, assumed the appearance of himself, the simplest man, entered the first village he came across and knocked on the poorest house, to Ali.
- I'm tired, I'm dying of hunger! - said Allah with a low bow. - Let the traveler in.
Poor Ali opened the door for him and said:
- A tired traveler is a blessing to the home. Come in.
Allah entered.
Ali's family sat and dined.
- Sit down! Ali said. Allah sat down.
They took a piece from themselves and gave it to him. When they finished their supper, the whole family stood up for prayer. One guest sat and did not pray. Ali looked at him in surprise.
- Don't you want to pray to Allah? Ali asked.
Allah smiled.
- Do you know who is your guest? He asked a question.
Ali shrugged.
- You told me your name - the traveler. Why should I know something else?
- Well, then know who has entered your house, - said the traveler, - I am Allah!
And all of it flashed like lightning.
Ali fell at the feet of Allah and cried out with tears:
- Why have I been given such mercy? Are there few rich and noble people in the world? We have a mullah in our village, we have a foreman Kerim, and there is a rich merchant Megemet. And you chose the poorest, the most beggar - Ali! Thank you.
Ali kissed the footprint of Allah. As it was too late, everyone went to bed. But Ali could not sleep. All night he turned from side to side, thinking about something. The next day, too, all thought about something. He also sat pensive at supper and did not eat anything.
And when the supper was over, Ali could not resist and turned to Allah:
- Do not be angry with me, Allah, that I will ask you a question!
Allah nodded his head and allowed: - Ask!
- I wonder! Ali said. - I am amazed and cannot understand in any way! We have a mullah in our village, a learned and noble man - everyone bows to him at the waist when they meet him. There is foreman Kerim, an important person - the wali himself stops at his place when he travels through our village. There is a merchant Megemet - a rich man, which, I think, there are not many in the world. He would have managed to treat you and put you to sleep on clean fluff. And you took it and went to Ali, the poor man, to the beggar! Must I please you, Allah? AND?
Allah smiled and replied:
- Good!
Ali even laughed with joy:
- Here I am glad that you please! I'm glad!
Ali slept well that night. He went to work merrily. He returned home merry, sat down to dinner and said merrily to Allah:
- And me, Allah, after dinner I need to talk to you!
- Let's talk after dinner! - Allah answered cheerfully.
When dinner was over and his wife had removed the dishes, Ali turned to Allah cheerfully:
- And I must be very pleasing to you, Allah, if you took yes to me and came in ?! AND?
- Yes! - Allah answered with a smile.
- AND? - continued Ali with a laugh. - There is a mullah in the village, to whom everyone bows, there is a foreman at whom the wali himself stops, there is Megemet the rich man who would heap pillows up to the ceiling and would be glad to slaughter a dozen rams for dinner. And you took it and went to me, to the poor man! Must I really please you? Tell me, really?
- Yes! Yes! - answered, smiling, Allah.
- No, tell me, really, I am very pleasing to you? Ali pestered. - That you are all yes, yes. Tell me how you please me?
- Yes Yes Yes! Very, very, very much you please me! - Allah answered with a laugh.
- So much?
- Okay. Come, Allah, to sleep.
The next morning Ali woke up in an even better frame of mind. All day I walked around, smiling, thinking something funny and joyful.
At supper he ate for three and after supper he patted Allah on the knee.
- And I think you, Allah, how awful should you be to rejoice that I am so pleasing to you? AND? Tell me what you like? Are you very happy, Allah?
- Highly! Highly! - Allah answered smiling.
- I think! Ali said. - I, brother Allah, know from myself. Even if a dog is pleasing to me, it is a pleasure to see it. But then the dog, and then me! Either I, or you, Allah! I can imagine how you should be glad, looking at me! You see in front of you a person so pleasing to you! I suppose your heart is playing?
- Plays, plays! Go to bed! - said Allah.
- Well, let's go, perhaps, and sleep! - answered Ali.
- Please!
The next day Ali walked pensively, sighed at supper, looked at Allah, and Allah noticed that Ali once even unnoticed wiped away a tear.
- Why are you, Ali, so sad? - asked Allah when they finished supper.
Ali sighed.
- Yes, that's about you, Allah, thinking! What would happen to you if I was not there?
- How so? - Allah was surprised.
- What would you do without me, Allah? Look at the wind and cold outside, and the rain is whipping like whips. What would happen if there were no such a person you like as me? Where would you go? You would freeze in the cold, in the wind, in the rain. You wouldn't have a dry thread! And now you are sitting warm, dry. It's light, and you ate. And all why? Because there is such a person pleasing to you, to whom you could go! You would perish, Allah, if I were not in the world. You are lucky, Allah, that I exist in the world. Really, lucky!
At this point Allah could not stand it, laughed loudly and disappeared from sight. Only on the bench where he was sitting was a pile of large ducats, two thousand in size.
- Fathers! What wealth! Ali's wife threw up her hands. - What is it? Is there so much money in the world? Yes, I'm crazy!
But Ali pushed her away from the money with his hand, counted the gold coins and said:
- B-a little!
Mustafa and his neighbors
Mustafa was a wise man. He said to himself:
- A person who seeks the truth is like a person who is tormented by an intolerable thirst. When a person is thirsty, he should drink water, not spit.
Therefore, Mustafa listened more than spoke. He listened to everyone equally. Those who were considered smart. And those who were considered stupid. Who knows who is smart and who is really stupid?
- If the lamp barely flickers, it does not mean that there is no oil in it. Often the lamp barely burns because it is overflowing with oil and has not yet flared up.
Anyone who wanted to enter into a conversation with him, Mustafa asked:
- Do you know something about the truth? Tell me.
Once, when Mustafa, in thought, was walking along the road, an old dervish came across him. Dervish said to Mustafa:
- Good afternoon, Mustafa!
Mustafa looked at him in amazement: he had never seen this dervish.
- Where do you know me from?
Dervish smiled and instead of answering asked:
- What are you doing, Mustafa?
- You see what I'm doing! - answered Mustafa. - I'm going.
- I see that you are going now. What do you usually do? The dervish asked.
Mustafa shrugged his shoulders:
- What everyone usually does. I walk, sit, lie, drink, eat, trade, quarrel with my wife.
Dervish smiled slyly:
- But what do you do, Mustafa, when you walk, sit, lie, drink or eat, when you trade, quarrel with your wife?
The amazed Mustafa replied:
- I think: what is truth? I'm looking for the truth.
- Do you want to know what truth is? The dervish continued smiling all the time.
- From all that I know, I know for certain that I want to know this most of all.
- The truth? This is the back of our head.
- How so? - asked Mustafa.
- She is with us, about, but we do not see her.
- I do not understand this! - Mustafa said.
Dervish gave him a precious ring.
- Here's a clue. Give this ring to the person farthest from you. And you will understand.
And having said this, he turned off the road and disappeared into the bushes before Mustafa had time to recover. Mustafa looked at the ring.
Truly, he had never seen a more precious thing. Not such stones, not such a size, not such a game! Mustafa said to himself:
- It's not hard to do!
He took as much money as he could and hit the road. He rode on camels through a sultry, dead, red-hot desert, risking every moment to break loose and die to death, crossed the icy mountains, swam across many wide and fast rivers, passed through dense forests, tearing his skin against sharp branches, moved, almost crashing through endless ocean and finally found himself at the edge of the world.
Burned by the sun, and frozen, and wounded, not like himself.
Among the fields covered with eternal snow. Eternal night reigned there.
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* * *
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