|
Post by Tamrin on Aug 30, 2012 21:24:10 GMT 10
|
|
|
Post by Smithee on Aug 31, 2012 9:10:23 GMT 10
Nasrudin struck up a conversation with a stranger.
At one point, he asked, “So how’s business?”
“Great,” the other replied.
“Then can I borrow ten dollars?”
“No. I don’t know you well enough to lend you money.”
“That’s strange,” replied Nasrudin. “Where I used to live, people wouldn’t lend me money because they knew me; and now that I’ve moved here, people won’t lend me money because they don’t know me!“
|
|
|
Post by Tamrin on Aug 31, 2012 16:42:30 GMT 10
Time and again Nasrudin passed from Persia to Greece on donkey-back. Each time he had two panniers of straw, and trudged back without them. Every time the guard searched him for contraband. They never found any. 'What are you carrying, Nasrudin?’
‘I am a smuggler.’
Years later, more and more prosperous in appearance, Nasrudin moved to Egypt. One of the customs men met him there. ‘Tell me, Mulla, now that you are out of the jurisdiction of Greece and Persia, living here in such luxury—what was it that you were smuggling when we could never catch you?’
‘Donkeys.'
|
|
|
Post by Tamrin on Sept 1, 2012 19:32:40 GMT 10
Mullah Nasrudin is one night looking for something next to a lamp post in the street. A friend is going by and asks what he’s doing. The Mullah says, “I’m looking for my key which lost.” The friend decides to help and searches the ground under the lamp post. Half an hour later the friend asks,”Are you sure you dropped your key here?” Nasrudin replies, “Oh no I lost it inside my house in my bedroom.” The friend screams, “Why in hell’s name, are we searching here?” Nasrudin smiles and says, “There much more light here.”
|
|
|
Post by Smithee on Sept 2, 2012 12:34:46 GMT 10
Mullah Nasrudin’s donkey would not obey him. He was wild, unruly, slow and obstinate. After unsuccessfully doing all he could do to make his donkey behave, the Mullah gave up and took his donkey to the Bazaar to sell at auction. The auctioneer was good. Oh, he was so good. The bidding started with one Ashrafi coin (a small gold coin worth about a guinea). The auctioneer talked about the donkey’s strong muscles. Five people bid up the price to eight coins. The auctioneer said, “This is a most gentle donkey. Just look at his eyes. You know he’s a wonderful donkey. You can let him carry your children home with full knowledge of the fact that this kind animal will protect them from any harm. For he is a strong loyal beast.” Two of the five bidders had dropped out but the other three bid up the price to eighteen coins (nearly what it was worth). The auctioneer continued talking about the donkey’s value and about how he was tall and had a long tail to swat the flies with. Now, there were only two bidders left. The auctioneer laid it thick and the price went up to thirty five coins. People who knew the Mullah’s donkey were very pleased with him. He was going to get an excellent price for his donkey even after paying the twenty percent auctioneer commission and the five percent tax. Suddenly some one at the back started to bid. The auctioneer was so pleased. “A new bidder,” he announced gleefully. The new bidder finally bid the donkey up to forty coins and the auctioneer said, “Going, going, gone!”
The bidder came forward and was revealed to be no one other than Mullah Nasrudin himself. He was so pleased with his fantastic buy. It cost him ten Ashrafi coins to pay the commission and the tax. The Mullah did not even ride his “new, gentle, kind, powerful” donkey home. This was a prize donkey which was to be cherished, looked after and used for stud only.
|
|
|
Post by Tamrin on Sept 3, 2012 20:09:15 GMT 10
Nasrudin sat on a river bank when someone shouted to him from the opposite side: "Hey! how do I get across?"
"You are across!" Nasrudin shouted back.
|
|
|
Post by Tamrin on Sept 28, 2012 15:38:10 GMT 10
|
|
|
Post by Tamrin on Sept 28, 2012 15:39:46 GMT 10
|
|
|
Post by Smithee on Oct 29, 2012 9:01:03 GMT 10
Nasruddin was once tossing about in bed, Said his wife, “What’s the matter? Go to sleep!”
The Mullah confessed he did not have the seven silver coins he owed his neighbour Abdullah and had to pay the following day. So he was too worried to be able to sleep.
His wife promptly got up, threw a shawl round her shoulders, went across the street and shouted, “Abdullah! Abdullah!” till old Abdullah came to the window rubbing his eyes sleepily, and asking, “What is it? What’s the matter?”
The woman called out, “I just want you to know you are not going to get your silver coins tomorrow. My husband doesn’t have them.”
With that she walked back home and said, “Go to sleep, Nasruddin. Now Abdullah can worry.”
|
|
|
Post by Smithee on Nov 21, 2012 19:52:46 GMT 10
Nasruddin was attempting to console his dying wife in every possible way.
The woman opened her eyes and said. "It is certain that this night will be my last. I shall not see the sun again. Nasruddin, how will you take my death?"
"How will I take your death? I will go mad."
Serious as her condition was, the woman could not repress a smile. "Ah, you cunning fellow," she said. "I know you. "You won't stay unmarried for even a month after my death."
"What do you mean? said Nasruddin indignantly. "Of course I will go mad - but I won't go that mad."
|
|