write a short story of Mullah nasruddin in English
Answers
Answer:
Mulla Stories indicate the intelligence of Mulla Nasruddin. The name that every Afghan remembers hearing about in childhood. Here is few of the thousands of humurous and thoughtful stories about Him. His identity is being claimed by three countries. Afghanistan, Iran and Turkey. The Nasruddin stories, known throughout the Middle East, constitute one of the strangest acheivements in the history of metaphysics. Superficially, most of the Nasruddin stories may be used as jokes. They are told and retold endlessly in the teahouses and caravanserais, in the homes and on the radio waves, of Asia. But it is inherent in the Nasruddin story that it may be understood at any of many depths. There is the joke, the moral - and the little extra which brings the consciousness of the potential mystic a little further on the way to realization.
Answer:
Story 1 Mullah Nasruddin Feeds His Coat
Part of Moral Tales
Adapted from a Middle Eastern Islamic folk tale which is attributed to different countries, including Turkey and Syria.
Mullah Nasruddin had been working in the fields all day long. He was tired and sweaty and his clothes and shoes were covered with mud and stains. Because he had been fasting all day long, for Ramadan, he was also quite hungry. But finally, it was almost sundown and Nasruddin knew that he would soon be able to eat.
The wealthiest man in town had invited everyone to come break their fasts in his home that evening with a huge feast. Nasruddin knew that he would be late if he went home to change his clothes before heading into town. He decided it was better to arrive in dirty clothes than to be late. Oh, what a party it would be! What a feast! As he walked to the wealthy man's home, Nasruddin imagined the delicious foods that he would soon be eating: dates, lentils and chickpeas, olives and bread, hummus, falafel, chicken and beef — and best of all — the desserts — halvah, date rolls, figs and baklava!
When Nasruddin arrived, the wealthy man opened the door and looked Nasruddin up and down scornfully, from his worn, ragged clothes down to his muddy shoes. Without a word of welcome, he gestured for Nasruddin to come in and walked abruptly away.
(Leader — Say, "I wonder what the wealthy man was thinking or feeling," and briefly take a few answers. Return to the story by saying, "Let's hear what happens next.")
Nasruddin joined the throngs of people, who were all dressed in their finest clothing. The tables were laden with all sorts of delicious foods: dates, lentils and chickpeas, olives and bread, hummus, falafel, chicken and beef — and best of all — the desserts — halvah, date rolls, figs and baklava!
Despite his efforts to hurry, the seats were all taken and nobody tried to move over or make a space for Nasruddin. In fact, nobody offered him food. He had to reach over and around people to get any food for his plate. Nobody spoke to him. It was as if he wasn't even there.
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