“At the Battle of Baghwaharam, my mount was killed and my right arm was cut off,” boasted the knight. With my left arm, I fought my foes till none were left standing. “That’s nothing!” exclaimed the second warrior. “In the second Battle of Baghwaharam, a fierce enemy buried his axe into my skull and gouged out my eye, but I continued to fight and brought home his head as a trophy.”
“Pish posh!” said Nasrudin, who had grown weary of their boasting. “In the third Battle of Baghwahram, a mighty warrior as tall as three houses one on top of each other, drew his sword, easily the length of three of yours. The fierce giant, in a single lightening swipe, lopped off my head. My prowess as a fighter is such that I called to my sightless body, to place my head back on my shoulders, which it then did, whereupon I continued to fight as though nothing had happened.”
The King’s wise men were summoned to Court to cross examine Nasrudin. This was a very grave case. The Mullah had admitted going around the country exclaiming “The Court’s “wise men” are ignorant, indecisive and confused.” He was charged with undermining state security under new legislation designed to protect the state against foreigners planning terror.
Speak first, said the King to Nasrudin “Bring me pens and paper,” said the Mullah The pens and paper were brought. Give them to each of the first seven wise men. They were handed out. “Have them each separately write an answer to this question: “What is bread?” This was done.
The papers were given to the King who read them out loud. The first said, “Bread is a food.” The second said, “Bread is flour and water.” The third said, “Bread is a gift from God.” The fourth said “Bread is baked dough” The fifth said, “That depends on what you mean by “bread”.” The sixth said, “Bread is a nutritious substance.” The seventh said “No-one really knows.”
“Once they are able to decide what bread is,” said the Mullah, “then they can decide on other things, for example whether I am right or I am wrong. Can you entrust serious matters of judgement to men such as these? Is it not strange that they cannot agree on something that we eat every day, yet they are unanimous that I am a terrorist?”
The marketer at CeBit from twenty paces away spotted that Nasrudin had money to spend. As the Mullah approached the booth, the marketer said to him, “You look like a discerning gentleman. Would you like this magic nosebag?” “What does it do?” “Watch,” and from the bag, the marketer first drew out an iPhone, then a Wii, and finally a sat nav. Nasrudin immediately forked over cash. “Just one little thing,” said the marketer. “These bags are rather sensitive, so don’t annoy it. Don’t let on to others too much about it and all will be well.”
Tired and hungry from walking around the huge exhibition, Nasrudin headed to the train station with the bag. On the train he said, “Magic bag, give me a fresh warm giant pretzel.” He put his hand in the bag. It was empty. “Perhaps it only gives out portable electronic devices because it is sensitive,” he thought to himself. “Magic bag, give me a Bose SoundDock.” Nada. “Please don’t be annoyed with me, I just don’t understand you,” he said. Then Nasrudin remembered that when his donkey was annoyed, he bought it a new nosebag, so when he got home, he saddled his donkey, rode to his local dealer and bought a donkey for his new nosebag. “Nasrudin what you doing with two donkeys?” shouted an acquaintance. “You don’t understand, my friend,” replied the Mullah. “It is not two donkeys. It is one donkey and his nosebag and one nosebag and his donkey.”
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!”
A pious holy man once said to Nasrudin, “I am so selfless that I only think of others, never about myself.” Nasrudin countered, “I am so entirely objective that I am able to regard myself as if I were someone else, so I can care about me.”