A pot is born
People believe what they desire to believe. Skilled liars know this very well. Their lies are tall (beyond your ability to compare) and simple (so that they can stretch them out as needed) and meet your wishes (so that you lovingly embrace them). They deceive but you cheat yourself. This reminds me of a story:
Young Nasrudin went to his rich neighbour, Hakim, to borrow a larger pot and a small silver akçe.
It is difficult to give and even harder to lend but in the end the neighbour brought out from the kitchen one of his many pots and handed over, with regret, one of his many silver sounding coins:
“For one week, no more”
When the seven days were over, without delay, the Hodja knocked at the neighbour’s door and gave him back the cleaned pot, covered with a clean piece of cloth.
“Where is my silver akçe?” asked the man.
“Just look inside the pot and you will be pleased”
In the big pot there was another small pot, inside the small pot the akçe and by the side of the akçe a small copper mangir.
“See, explained the Hodja, I left your pot in the warm vapour, in my kitchen, with the akçe inside and lo: yesterday morning I found that your pot gave birth to this small pot and, more than this, your akçe also had a son – this cuddly copper coin”
The neighbour was pleasantly surprised to see back home all this growing family of his belongings.
One month later, when Nasrudin asked again for a big pot and a silver akçe, he was welcome.
Now, the seven days passed and even three weeks passed but the Hodja was not to be seen.
The lender lost patience and came to reclaim his property.
Hodja told him with tears in his eyes:
“Didn’t you hear about it? I am sad to say, they died. Both of them! The pot got poisoned with mushrooms and the akçe bled to death in childbirth”
“What is this mad lie, exclaimed the neighbour, who on earth will believe that a pot can die of poisoning and an akçe perish by haemorrhage?”
“Who else than yourself my friend. Didn’t you believe as well that a pot can give birth and an akçe get pregnant? What gives birth dies too.”
It is difficult to give and even harder to lend but in the end the neighbour brought out from the kitchen one of his many pots and handed over, with regret, one of his many silver sounding coins:
“For one week, no more”
When the seven days were over, without delay, the Hodja knocked at the neighbour’s door and gave him back the cleaned pot, covered with a clean piece of cloth.
“Where is my silver akçe?” asked the man.
“Just look inside the pot and you will be pleased”
In the big pot there was another small pot, inside the small pot the akçe and by the side of the akçe a small copper mangir.
“See, explained the Hodja, I left your pot in the warm vapour, in my kitchen, with the akçe inside and lo: yesterday morning I found that your pot gave birth to this small pot and, more than this, your akçe also had a son – this cuddly copper coin”
The neighbour was pleasantly surprised to see back home all this growing family of his belongings.
One month later, when Nasrudin asked again for a big pot and a silver akçe, he was welcome.
Now, the seven days passed and even three weeks passed but the Hodja was not to be seen.
The lender lost patience and came to reclaim his property.
Hodja told him with tears in his eyes:
“Didn’t you hear about it? I am sad to say, they died. Both of them! The pot got poisoned with mushrooms and the akçe bled to death in childbirth”
“What is this mad lie, exclaimed the neighbour, who on earth will believe that a pot can die of poisoning and an akçe perish by haemorrhage?”
“Who else than yourself my friend. Didn’t you believe as well that a pot can give birth and an akçe get pregnant? What gives birth dies too.”
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