Mullah Nassruddin Feeds his Coat
Once upon a time, in a bustling village surrounded by fields, there lived a wise and witty man named Nasruddin. He was known far and wide for his cleverness and his ability to spin tales that would make even the grumpiest of souls smile.
One hot summer day, Nasruddin toiled in the fields from dawn till dusk, tending to the crops under the scorching sun. The sweat poured down his face, and his clothes and shoes were covered in mud and stains. It was during the holy month of Ramzan, and he was fasting since sunrise, longing for sunset so he could finally open his fast.
The wealthiest man in the village had extended a generous invitation to everyone for Iftar at his place every day throughout the month. The thought of a lavish feast enticed Nasruddin. However, there was a dilemma. He knew that if he went home to clean up and change his clothes, he might arrive late for the feast. His heart tugged at him, torn between his desire to appear presentable and his hunger for delicious food. After some contemplation, he decided it was better to arrive in his dirty clothes than to risk being late.
With a skip in his step and dreams of mouthwatering delicacies dancing in his mind, Nasruddin made his way to the wealthy man's house. As he approached the grand entrance, the wealthy man opened the door and glanced at Nasruddin with a disapproving look. Without a word of welcome, he gestured for Nasruddin to come inside and then walked away, leaving him feeling unnoticed and unimportant.
Unfazed by the cold reception, Nasruddin joined the lively crowd of guests inside. The tables were adorned with an array of tantalizing dishes, overflowing with dates, salad, lentils, chicken, beef, and an assortment of mouthwatering desserts. Halvah, date rolls, figs, and baklava enticed Nasruddin with their sweet allure.
Yet, something strange unfolded before Nasruddin's eyes. No one made room for him at the table, and not a single person offered him a morsel of food. It was as if he were invisible, lost in the sea of elegantly dressed guests. Undeterred, Nasruddin reached over and around people, trying to fill his plate with the delicious fare. But the uncomfortable silence and the feeling of being ignored dampened his appetite.
Unable to bear the awkwardness any longer, Nasruddin excused himself and hurried back home. He knew that a change was necessary. He shed his worn and dirty clothes, exchanging them for his finest attire. A beautiful coat, adorned with vibrant colours and intricate designs, graced his shoulders.
With newfound confidence, Nasruddin returned to the feast. This time, as he approached the wealthy man's door, the host welcomed him with a genuine smile and open arms. People waved and called out to him from all corners of the room, inviting him to sit by their side and offering him a taste of the dishes that filled the tables.
Nasruddin found his place among the cheerful guests, feeling the warmth of their hospitality. However, he had a peculiar surprise up his sleeve. Picking up a plump fig, he carefully placed it into the pocket of his coat, whispering, "Eat, coat, eat!"
The room fell into curious silence as Nasruddin continued this strange ritual, feeding his coat with food.
Eyes widened and whispers filled the air as everyone watched Nasruddin's unusual actions. Perplexed, the host approached him, unable to contain his curiosity. "Nasruddin, what on earth are you doing? Why are you feeding your coat in such a peculiar manner?" he inquired.
A mischievous smile danced across Nasruddin's face as he replied, "You see, dear host, when I first arrived at this feast in my worn and dirty clothes, I was met with indifference. No one paid me any attention. But as soon as I changed into this beautiful coat, suddenly I was welcomed with open arms. It dawned upon me that it wasn't me who was welcomed at this gathering, but my clothes. So, I decided to feed my coat as a token of gratitude for the hospitality it received."
The room burst into laughter, a joyous symphony that filled the air. The guests realized the folly of their actions and recognized the true essence of Nasruddin's message. It wasn't the outer appearance that mattered but the kindness and acceptance that should greet every guest, regardless of their attire. From that day forward, the villagers learnt a valuable lesson about treating others with kindness and embracing them for who they are inside.