Careless Head

Nasrudin was tying his turban when the wind caught the cloth and carried it away. ‘What a shame!’ lamented his friend. ‘That was a beautiful piece of Indian muslin.’ ‘I should never have trusted my careless head with it. That is the third turban it has lost this week,’ said Nasrudin.

The World of Nasrudin

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El mundo de Nasrudín

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A Certain Clientele

‘I have just had an extraordinary dream,’ Nasrudin told his wife one morning. ‘I dreamt that I met a merchant with four separate loads.’ ‘What did he have in his saddle-bags?’ ‘In the first he had persecution and in the second, fear. In the third, intolerance, and in the fourth, blindness.’ ‘And who were his clients?’ asked his wife, intrigued. ‘Oppressors, tyrants, Imams, and magistrates.’

The World of Nasrudin

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