When Nasrudin’s donkey became sick, the Mullah wept in public. “Why are you crying, Nasrudin?” asked a friend, “Your animal is still alive!” “If he does die, I will have to bury him, buy a new one at auction and then spend many days training that donkey!” replied Nasrudin. “There simply won’t be any time to grieve.”
Monthly Archives: February 2009
Nasrudin applied for a job at a logging company. The foreman was rather surprised, for Nasrudin hardly looked like a lumberjack. Nevertheless he gave Nasrudin an axe and assigned him a sizeable forest in which to work alone.
After three days Nasrudin returned. “How did you do?” asked the boss, knowing full well that Nasrudin could never cut the mustard. “I cleared the whole forest,” replied Nasrudin rather smugly. Incredulous, the foreman immediately set out for the forest with Nasrudin and was astonished to see that, indeed, the entire area had been felled. Now, this was a job that normally would have taken thirty of his men to complete in the same time. “Where on earth did you learn to chop down trees like that?” asked the foreman in awe. “In the Sahara,” replied Nasrudin with little modesty. “But there are no trees in the Sahara!” exclaimed the foreman. “You are absolutely right, said Nasrudin. “Now there aren’t!”
“Nasrudin, my husband, you must hurry up and get ready or you will be late for the governor’s funeral!” shouted Nasrudin’s wife. “Why should I bother to go to the governor’s funeral?” asked Nasrudin. “I am quite certain he is not going to go to mine!”