The right time

By -
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:” A time to be born, and a time to die; …a time to be wise and a time to be like everybody else. Don’t choose the wrong time. This reminds me of a story:

Hodja was travelling alone in the wilderness.

Suddenly a tiger appeared, not far away. Hodja run for his life. As he didn’t have time to look, he slid behind the bushes into a precipice. By chance, he got hold with one hand of a large root hanging out from the rocks. He looked upwards. The tiger growled at him from above. He looked down. Below, another tiger was snarling at him. He felt weary. Two small legendary mice, one black and one white proceeded to slowly gnaw at the firm sustaining root. Nasrudin’s heart filled with fear. Then he saw in the green moss in front of his nose a sweet, fragrant, red strawberry. With a short movement, while clutching one hand on the root he picked the fruit with the other and eat it, and it was marvellous. Then he felt weary again. The mice kept playfully nibbling the root. His hands grew numb. His thoughts grew dark. Now, a noble, calm, quieting voice from nowhere spoke to him:

“Let go, Nasrudin… Relax and let go… Life is but a dream…Let go now…”

To this, Nasrudin replied:

“Get lost! I need help not illumination!”

Comments

Anonymous said…
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
24 December 2007 at 21:34
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

By -
This reminds me of a story 111 Teaching Stories of Nasreddin Hodja, the Wise Fool of the East. © 2007 -2019 Ioan Tenner and Daniel Tenner Foreword There is nothing new in the world but for a newborn all the stories are new. For the newcomer to Nasreddin Hodja, the 111 stories that follow promise a discovery. As for Nasreddin’s old friends, they are a modest aide-mémoire. This booklet was mainly written for my imaginary grand children. It collects the traditional Hodja fables under this title because, to advise or teach, I do not like to tell one directly how to think or what to do. Instead, almost everything “reminds me of a story”. Often, it is a Nasreddin story. As the author is a shameless thief of wisdom, the last concern here is to be original. Of late, I care to plant some good seed, not to boast as when I was young: “Me! Me! Me!” These stories belong to the world, they were told for centuries and only the narration is mine. I worked hard to rewrite the...
Read more

Stone soup

By -
Image
The best way to teach and to convince is to act like Socrates. Be a midwife not a schoolmaster. Come with seemingly empty hands, armed with discrete wisdom. Cook new knowledge from the ingredients everybody has and do not know how to value. When the skilled adviser did his work, people believe they are the ones who made it. This reminds me of a story: The wind and the looting hordes had blown away even the little hospitality a pilgrim might have expected. The farmers shut themselves behind their walls, with relatives, servants, cows, sheep and poultry, all hoping to forget the world outside. Nobody would offer this poor traveller the charity of some food and a sheltered corner for a night. After a good dozen of frozen doors slammed into his nose, Nasr Eddin tried a different way... He knocked on the tall wooden gate of a rich household on the hillside. "Allah help you!" said a servant, "we have nothing to give today." "A master cook of the kings d...
Read more

Tamerlane’s elephant

By -
Image
Noble is sacrifice for the public good! It will be wise though to ask yourself whether a given public is good enough to deserve it. This reminds me of a story: After trampling so many of Bajazet’s spahis and janissaries in the great battle of Ankara, Tamerlane’s war elephants deserved a vacation and good food. Accordingly, the Emir spread them to pasture one by one in many Turkish villages with orders to let them feed aplenty and to treat them with the respect due to his own envoys. One, ended up in Nasrudin’s village. First, the villagers gathered to admire that beast never seen before. As they all enjoyed excellent eye-sight, they admired the whole and choose each of them their preferred part. One observed that the animal had legs like trees or stone pillars. Another marveled at the trunk and called it a water spout. The third compared the ears with huge fans, large like carpets. Yet another admired the back, large and haughty, equal to a throne. But while they replenished their ...
Read more