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Archive for March, 2010

Homer would be turning in his grave, wondering even after hundreds of thousands of years, as man has explored the unreachable and discovered the incommunicable, some progress would have been made on the patent matter of “LET THE GIRL DECIDE WHOM SHE WANTS TO MARRY”

Yes, the same Homer who brought to us the legend of Troy as the early history of ancient Greece. Helen of Troy is the object of one of the most dramatic love stories of all time and one of the main reasons for a ten-year war between the Greeks and Trojans, known as the Trojan War. Helen of Troy is known as the face that launched a thousand ships because of the vast number of warships the Greeks sailed to Troy to reclaim Helen.

Is Sania Mirza the new-age Helen? Some of our Indian friends are throwing the most irrational rants from across the border and not in a very friendly tone. One such headline read:

Indian political party furious on Shoaib-Sania wedding

We can ignore the unfounded politicization of the matter by conservative Indian political parties, but to the astonishment of modern-day Homer, vibes riddling down the Pakistani side of the border by Indian bloggers and Indians on social networking sites makes one wonder if the contemporary world is still not developed enough to acknowledge a woman’s right to marry according to her wishes, be it with a man from across the border.

I fail to understand why the news baffles my Indian friends. Guys, you seriously need to grow up and realize your not living in 500 BC. Let me show you some stuff that forces me to write this blogpost:

Sania is a b* she should be thrown out of India let her go and live with that Pakistani ba* -ram – jaipur

Sania,I was probably one of the biggest fan of yours,today I am ashamed of myself to be your fan since you prefered your ““momentary““ likings over your country.I am sorry can`t even wish you…..preeti – london

first of all every indian should kick to sania and her family to get lost our country and build ur business to our enemy country. gov“t of india should cancell her all citizen ship and back to received her all honour what ever has given to from ourcountry. suman siliguri -suman – siliguri

Muslims are muslims afterall….. all they care is religion and yeah..ofcourse jehad. she should first meet the relatives of terror victims and later we should kick her out of India..just like M F Hussain. BTW good to see so many desi youngistan expressing their view. Group up ppl…its time to kick the traitors out. Also remember what SRK said few days ago…… They are all the same. WAKE UP! –raven11 – Chennai

Star like Sachin, Amitab, Gavaskar, Padukone, Saina Nehwal, Sania Mirza, A. Bindra etc are Indian Icon. Looking at tense relation with Pakistan, how can any Indian Citizen ever think of such act. God give her good sense. -S. Chaudhary – Pune

What sania mirza was, is because of India… we made her queen….but she chose to be A Pakistani…. God Bless her, don`t worry Sania, we are not going to miss you… you are not worthy of that…. -Sunita – Navi Mumbai

Random search on facebook proved more revealing:

We HATE Sania Mirza

We want Fatima Bhutto in return of Sania Mirza

1,000,000 people who hate sania mirza

We are lucky we aren’t living in the times of Troy when wars were fought over a woman and even if that were the case, we would have made sure that the last laugh accompanied chants of Pitt-cum-Malik: “Is there no one else?”

Let bygones be bygones, I think my angry friends should now worry about Sushmita Sen, Wasim Akram is single!

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seress

It is autumn and the leaves are falling

All love has died on earth 

The wind is weeping with sorrowful tears 

My heart will never hope for a new spring again 

My tears and my sorrows are all in vain 

People are heartless, greedy and wicked… 

Love has died! 

The world has come to its end, hope has ceased to have a meaning 

Cities are being wiped out, shrapnel is making music 

Meadows are coloured red with human blood 

There are dead people on the streets everywhere 

I will say another quiet prayer: 

People are sinners, Lord , they make mistakes… 

The world has ended! 

 

Gloomy Sunday – the notorious ‘Hungarian Suicide Song’ – alleged to be the defining factor in countless suicides committed across the globe – was written in 1933. Its melody and original lyrics were the creation of Rezső Seress, a self-taught pianist and composer born in Hungary in 1899. 

The crushing hopelessness and bitter despair which characterised the two stanza penned by Seress were superseded by the more mournful, melancholic verses of Hungarian poet László Jávor. 

When the song came to public attention it quickly earned its reputation as a ‘suicide song’. Reports from Hungary alleged individuals had taken their lives after listening to the haunting melody, or that the lyrics had been left with their last letters. 

The popularity of Gloomy Sunday increased greatly through its interpretation by Billie Holiday (1941). In an attempt to alleviate the pessemistic tone a third stanza was added to this version, giving the song a dreamy twist, yet still the suicide reputation remained. Gloomy Sunday was banned from the playlists of major radio broadcasters around the world. The B.B.C. deemed it too depressing for the airwaves 

Despite all such bans, Gloomy Sunday continued to be recorded and sold. 

People continued to buy the recordings; some committed suicide. 

Rezső Seress jumped to his death from his flat in 1968. 

The newspapers of the world were quick to report other deaths associated with Seress’ song. One newspaper covered the case of a woman in North London who had been playing a 78 recording of Gloomy Sunday at full volume, infuriating and frightening her neighbors, who had read of the fatalities supposedly caused by the tune. The stylus finally became trapped in a groove, and the same piece of the song played over and over. The neighbors hammered on the woman’s door but there was no answer, so they forced the door open – only to find the woman dead in her chair from an overdose of barbiturates. As the months went by, a steady stream of bizarre and disturbing deaths that were alleged to be connected to Gloomy Sunday persuaded the chiefs at the BBC to ban the seemingly accursed song from the airwaves. Back in France, Rizzo Seress, the man who had composed the controversial song, was also to experience the adverse effects of his creation. He wrote to his ex-fiancée, pleading for reconciliation. But several days later came the most awful, shocking news. Seress learned from the police that his sweetheart had poisoned herself. And by her side, a copy of the sheet music to Gloomy Sunday was found. 

Emilie Autumn also refers to this song in her song ‘The Art of Suicide’: 

“Life is not like Gloomy Sunday With a second ending when the people are disturbed. Well, they should be disturbed because there’s a story that ought to be heard. Life is not like Gloomy Sunday With a second ending when the people are disturbed. Well, they should be disturbed because there’s a lesson that really ought to be learned.”

 

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The recent political environment in the country brought forth another issue that we have been ignoring for a long time. The issue of renaming NWFP to Pakhtunkhwa. Some very interesting debates took place on social networking sites and thus I had to write this blogpost to clear some misunderstandings and state some facts. Are dirty politics being played to arouse public sentiments, that may not be even legtimate?

Is it a genuine, legitimate concern of a people who fear their status and interests as equal citizens being seriously diluted in a newly-named province?

There is a lot of confusion being spread about the name. Every Tom, Dick and Harry has been proposing the most unreasonable (read:stupid) names as the inhabitants of NWFP are looking towards the top political leadership to finally name their province which represents their true identity, and why not? If Punjab, Sind and Baluchistan represent majority ethnic backgrounds of Punjabis, Sindis and Baluchis, why only Pashtuns have to bear this brunt of being politicized about the very name of their province

Some facts to have to be kept in mind, whilst making unreasonable suggestions:

  • • 1998 census showed that 73.9 per cent of NWFP’s population spoke Pashto
  • • The census figures for the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (Fata) are even more revealing in terms of the Pakhtun identity of the population. In 1998 an overwhelming 99.1 per cent declared Pashtu as their mother tongue
  • • In opposing the renaming of the province to Pakhtunkhwa, only two parties naming Pakistan Muslim League (N) and Pakistan Muslim League (Q) are driven by the fear of losing votes in certain non-Pashto-speaking areas.
  • • If democratic norms are to be followed, then the wishes of the majority need to be respected in the renaming. The NWFP Assembly, reflecting the will of the people, a passed resolution in favour of Pakhtunkhwa by majority vote in November 1997
  • • Pakhtun are the 2nd largest ethnic group of Pakistan after Punjabis.
  • Most of them leaders of Hazara agitation have lost the last elections (of the nine leaders leading the protests, six lost the last elections, mostly to the PML-N). Is this movement politcally motivate? OF COURSE. WHO WONT WANT TO AROUSE PUBLIC SENTIMENTS ON THE BASIS OF ETHNICITY? Gohar Ayub ? (LOL, son of a dictator, who made one Unit, GA defended one unit all his life and now protests for a new province?)
  • 7 of the total 19 chief ministers this province has had since independence, have been from Hazara, from Khan Abdul Qayyum Khan to Sardar Mahtab Ahmad Khan Abbasi. Remember any public agitation in Pashtu-speaking areas for why a “Hazarawal” was ruling a predominantly Pashtun province, 73.9 per cent of the population that is?
  • Names reflect identity and if names are not according to your ethnic background, you will be unfairly treated, lose your identity? On principle, people who find it hard to live with Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa but happily lived with Abbottabad, which is named after Major Abbott (1849-1853), Haripur, which took its name from Ranjit Singh’s commander in chief Hari Singh Nalwa in 1822 or Mansehra, said to have been named after another Sikh commander, Man Singh.
  • But now the fire has been ignited, by these opportunist politicians, whats the solution?

REFERENDUM : The situation created in Hazara must be ignored and fuel must not be added to fire, a referendum must take place, which would again reflect what the majority represent, but would silence some guns who speak only to shine their politics!

Controversies would erupt if Punjab, Sindh and Balochistan were to be renamed today. The number of Saraiki-speakers in Punjab are 17.36 per cent of its population, compared to 75.23 Punjabis; in Sindh only 59.73 per cent of the population speaks Sindhi, while 21.05 per cent speaks Urdu; 6.99 per cent speak Punjabi and 4.19 per cent Pashto; in Balochistan, not more than 54.76 per cent of the population name Balochi as their mother tongue, compared to 29.64 per cent naming Pashto, 5.58 per cent Sindhi, 2.52 per cent Punjabi, and 2.42 per cent Saraiki. In fact, Pashto-speakers in NWFP and Fata form the largest group of a single ethnicity in any province in Pakistan. Based on the precedents set in naming other provinces, what names should be given to NWFP?

Ignoring the aspirations of the Pakhtun people (15.42 per cent), who are the second-largest ethnic group in Pakistan after Punjabis (44.15 per cent) and refusing to provide them an identity in the renaming of their province, would be both undemocratic and unjust. Especially if it comes from a party whose stronghold is Punjab and has been labelled to Punjabize all of Pakistan.

The earliest available historical proof is Akhund Darweza’s (d. 1638) Makhzanul Islam (written between 1603 and 1612). A verse in this book reads: “Pakhtunkhwa pa misal shpa wa, dai deewa wo pa andher ke” (Translation: Pakhtunkhwa was like a night and he [Pir Baba Syed Ali Termezi] was like a candle).

Dr. A. H. Dani, a well known historian and archaeologist, presently the Director of the Islamabad-based Center for the Study of the Civilizations of Central Asia, told Dawn that Pakhtunistan is a political name but Pakhtunkhwa is not. “Culturally there is no doubt that the land was called Pakhtunkhwa in Pushtu literature since 15th century (we have a trace of literature since that time only). The term has been applied for both tribal and settled areas, he added.

Similarly, the often-quoted two lines of a poem by Ahmad Shah Abdali (1723-1773), the Founding Father of Afghan state, clearly mention Pakhtunkhwa as the land of the Pashtoons or Pakhtuns. Here are the lines:

Da Dehli takht herawoma che rayad kram Zama da khpale Pakhtunkhwa da ghro saroona
(Translation: I forget my Dehli throne when I recall the mountain peaks of my own Pakhtunkhwa).

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The Principal of Pakistan Int’l School Jeddah, Wing Commander (r) Mohammed Siddiq was found guilty of misleading the Saudi Sharia Court by making false statements and denying his own signature at the police station which later was prooved to be true. He was also video taped on threatning the teachers not to support the teachers that he has sacked. The Court gave its verdict of 60 lashes and 15 days jail.

Last night the Principal PISJ managed to escape through Safe Exit Pass provided by the Ambassador Omer Sher Zai via Saudi Airlines.

Meanwhile the Saudi Court has also charged 11 teachers of taking false Oath on the Holy Quran. These teachers include:

1. Rana Arif
2. Mohammed Ors
3. Shiekh Zahoor
4. Altaf Hussain (DP)
5. Eijaz Awan
6. Munir Khan (Computer Teacher)
7. Sheikh Iqbal (Maths Teacher)
8. Sheikh Tabraiz (Islamiat Teacher)
9. Mohammed Rafiq
10. Squadran Leader (r) Munir Khan
11. Nazeer Maiser
12. Manzoor Solangi
13. Mustafa Hussain (Urf Chota)

The above teachers agreed to witness against the sacked teachers but unfortunate to them, a video tapped was presented to the court showing the Principal Mohammed Siddiq threatening the teachers in their staff room. The principal was backed by the Ambassador Omer Sherzai during the whole episode.

Sources say that they are looking into different options on getting the principal back including his arrest through interpol. The Saudi Foriegn Ministry may summon the Ambassador upon request of the Education Ministry / Victim teachers of the School. The coming days may create tension between the Saudi authorities and the Ambassador Omer Sherzai on the issue of the escape of W.C Mohammed Siddiq.

The question is, are we really willing to let our children get education from these kind of corrupt institutions and corrupt teachers???

JAAG PAKISTANI

By: Khan Taimoor from KSA
 
Latest News in:  before they could actually apply the court’s verdict of lashes, the principal escaped from Saudia with “Safe Exit Pass” by the ambassador…and the Ambassador was actually supporting him

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Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A shocking incident recently took place at the UET Peshawar where activists of the student wing of a religious party stormed a hostel room and beat a student there, reportedly, for listening to music. The poor student was beaten black and blue with sticks and the attackers did not even spare his guests who were present in his room. The student lost his life later while his guests are critically injured.

Such Taliban-like behaviour of this students’ group in different universities throughout Pakistan is not a new phenomenon. Such incidents take place wherever this group is active. I urge the government to enforce a ban on student bodies which have been promoting violence on campuses. I also urge the government to take the student’s killers to task. We are fighting extremism in FATA while our campuses in Karachi, Lahore and Peshawar teem with extremist students who are little Baitullah Mehsuds in their own right. It is high time we cleansed our centres of higher education of such fascist elements.

Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi

Islamabad

The News

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When there was nothing left to burn

I set myself on fire

Holding it strong between my fingers

I lit the cigarette of desire

As nicotine overwhelmed my mind

Words began to unwind

And here I am, with no shame

Writing poetry, up in flame

There’s something mad in the puff

That makes you bear even the cough

Feel the smoke dance in front

Feel the blaze of the blunt

Forget the sorrow and the joy

Feel the magic of this toy

Those who say it kills before time

Ask them, friend, are you divine?

And those who ask:

To smoke or not to smoke

Ask them: To hope or not to hope?

– Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi: Plastic Tearz – An Insight

Disclaimer: Smoking is injurious to health. It causes cancer of all sorts and you should ‘nt really smoke, please. This was just a poetic rambling, of a smokin’ poet :P. Dont use any portion of this stupid poem as a justification to kill yourself (like you will live forever without it :P, HAHAHA)

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The student wing of Jamat-e-Islami, Islami Jamiat E Tulba (IJT) has been in the limelight for quite some time. These neo-fascists and closet Taliban have been responsbile for the most inhumane and violent behaviour in educational institutions throughout Pakistan. Yes, my friends, they are self-proclaimed caretakers of Islam who leave no stone unturned to enforce their version of Islam on others. Does it ring any bells? Taliban taking over in Swat and FATA?    

From Punjab Universitiy to Peshawar University, IJT has been guilty Taliban-like acts throughout Pakistan. They on the back of their father-fascist religio-political party, take law in their own hands just like Mullah FazlUllah or BaitUllah Mehsud did in Swat and FATA.    

I received a message from a friend, Ahmed Zubair in Peshawar yesterday which forces me to write this blogpost. I am copy-pasting the extact message he sent to me:    

Adnan, the student of 8th Semester- Civil Department UET was listening to music in his room in the Tribal hostel of UET. The members of ” Islami Jamiat talba” knocked and warned him to stop it or lower its volume. In the meanwhile, harsh comments were exchanged and a small fight also took place.
After that, other students started to mediate and tried to patch it up between them but in vain. It is said that “Islami Jamiat talba” didn’t agree.
No one had thought that a small fight would cost Adnan his life.   

After a day or two, a bunch of Jamiat students spotted Adnan and his friends and started beating them brutally with the Nail embedded Sticks. Adnan and his 4 friends were shifted to the hospital. Adnan was in ICU, in a state of coma for a week. This happened on the last Saturday i.e 13th March 2010.
Unfortunately, Adnan passed away yesterday (19th March, 2010) which gave birth to protests and strikes once again. As a result, both the Peshawar University and UET are closed for an indefinite period.   

    

You must also remember the bashing of Imran Khan in Punjab University Lahore, when IJT invited him and then treated him badly.    

Time has come to demand a complete ban on these neo-fascist student wings. Time to cleanse our prime educational institutions from  Talibanization and extremism.

Imran Khan mistreated by IJT

  

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Tuesday, March 16, 2010
With reference to the letter “A new leaf?” by Imaan Hazir (March 9), I would like to urge the media to highlight Mai Jori’s brave stand and encourage women like her so we can have true democracy in Pakistan. Mai Jori contested the election from an area which was recently brought into focus due to a heinous crime committed against women. Some women were buried alive there in 2008 in the name of ‘honour’.

Mai Jori deserves our full encouragement even if she has lost. The face of Pakistani politics can only be changed if women like her take a stand and vow to fight against old tribal customs and injustices committed in the name of honour.

Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi

Islamabad

The News – NewsPost

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For some, the stories of Mullah Nasruddin are mere jokes, if you read his stories without insight and just as jokes, you need some self-work to do before recognizing the level of intellect he is tickling with his humor.

Mullah Nasruddin riding a donkey backwards

At an individual and collective level, Mullah pinches at some the most important cultural, religious, sociological and traditional customs and traditions. I initially thought of writing a blogpost on each and every story, but then I think, Mullah’s way of tickling the mental agility is better left alone. Directions ought to be given, doors have to be opened individually, for no one can walk you in, they will just show the way.

I will start with one story and reproduce Idris Shah’s The Sufis, read one by one, slowly and try to compare your individual self, think like Mullah, be different and he will open new doors of enlightment.

Mullah had this thought, all of sudden, that he is dead. He told his wife about this new development. She replied at once:” Oh come on Mullah, if you were dead your bones would have been cold”.

The next day Mullah had to bring wood from a near by jungle. He went riding his donkey. After hours of cutting wood, he felt his hands had become cold due to snowy weather. Shocked and distraught, he at blurted “Surely, now my bones have gotten cold, I am dead!”. Lamenting this, he slept by a tree, with his donkey tied by another nearby tree.

All of sudden, a thief wandered by Mullah’s donkey. Though Mullah was not fast asleep and he could hear the thief untying his donkey and stealing it, he did not do anything to raise hue and cry to stop the thief from stealing his donkey. After the thief had gone away with his donkey, a child who was watching all of this drama from a nearby place, came to Mullah and asked: “Mullah, I saw you were not asleep, why did you not stop that man from stealing your donkey? “

“You stupid kid, can a dead man stop anyone? “ – Mullah replied and went asleep again.

Anyone can steal your rights, anyone play with your belongings, your country, your pride and your prestige if and when you pretend to be dead. Though Mullah was not dead actually, but his ignorant and apathetic mindset had made him believe he is. The same problem exists with our society where we see so many things happening daily, yet our failure to stop them shows our ignorance and apathy. This story exists at several levels, and can have multi-fold meanings, the true genius of Mullah!

The rest, go through them, one by one and pretend to be a Mad Mullah with the Torch. 🙂

  • NASRUDDIN – Keeper of Faith In Turkey, where some people allege Nasruddin is buried, there are HUGE locked gates at his grave site. Yet his headstone reads – “Sometimes you do not need a key to get through gates. All you need to do is walk around them as there are no walls.”
     
  • More Useful One day mullah nasruddin entered his favorite teahouse and said: ‘The moon is more useful than the sun’. An old man asked ‘Why mulla?’ Nasruddin replied ‘We need the light more during the night than during the day.’
     
  • Promises Kept A friend asked the mulla “How old are you?” “Forty replied the mullah.” The friend said but you said the same thing two years ago!” “Yes” replied the mullah, “I always stand by what i have said.”
     
  • When you face things alone You may have lost your donkey, nasruddin, but you don’t have to grieve over it more than you did about the loss of your first wife. Ah, but if you remember, when i lost my wife, all you villagers said: We’ll find you someone else. So far, nobody has offered to replace my donkey.”
     
  • Obligation Nasruddin nearly fell into a pool one day. A man whom he knew slightly was nearby, and saved him. Every time he met nasruddin after that he would remind him of the service which he had performed. when this had happened several times nasruddin took him to the water, jumped in, stood with his head just above water and shouted: “Now I am as wet as I would have been if you had not saved me! Leave me alone.”
     
  • Deductive Reasoning “How old are you, mulla? someone asked, ‘Three years older than my brother. ‘How do you know that?’ ‘Reasoning. Last year I heard my brother tell someone that i was two years older than him. A year has passed. That means that I am older by one year. I shall soon be old enough to be his grandfather.’
     
  • “When I was in the desert,” said Nasruddin one day, “I caused an entire tribe of horrible and bloodthirsty bedouins to run.” “However did you do it?” “Easy. I just ran, and they ran after me.”
     
  • A certain conqueror said to Nasruddin: “Mulla, all the great rulers of the past had honorific titles with the name of God in them: there was, for instance, God-Gifted, and God-Accepted, and so on. How about some such name for me?” “God Forbid,” said Nasruddin.
     
  • “May the Will of Allah be done,” a pious man was saying about something or the other. “It always is, in any case,” said Mullah Nasruddin. “How can you prove that, Mullah?” asked the man. “Quite simply. If it wasn’t always being done, then surely at some time or another my will would be done, wouldn’t it?”
     
  • Walking one evening along a deserted road, Nasruddin saw a troop of horsemen rapidly approaching. His imagination started to work; he saw himself captured or robbed or killed and frightened by this thought he bolted, climbed a wall into a graveyard, and lay down in an open grave to hide. Puzzled at his bizzare behaviour, the horsemen – honest travellers – followed him. They found him stretched out, tense, and shaking. “What are you doing in that grave? We saw you run away. Can we help you? Why are you here in this place?” “Just because you can ask a question does not mean that there is a straightforward answer to it,” said Nasruddin, who now realized what had happened. “It all depends upon your viewpoint. If you must know, however, I am here because of you – and you are here because of me!”
     
  • Once, when Mullah Nasruddin was visiting a Western town, he was invited to attend a fashion show. He went, and afterwards he was asked how he liked it. “It’s a complete swindle!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Whatever do you mean?” he was asked. “They show you the women – and then try to sell you the clothes!”
     
  • A man was walking along the street when he passed another man with a lot of stubble on his face standing outside a shop. The first man asked: “How often do you shave? Twenty or thirty times a day,” answered the man with the stubble. “What! You must be a freak!” exclaimed the first man. “No, I’m only a barber,” replied the man with the stubble.
     
  • Once, the people of The City invited Mulla Nasruddin to deliver a khutba. When he got on the minbar (pulpit), he found the audience was not very enthusiastic, so he asked “Do you know what I am going to say?” The audience replied “NO”, so he announced “I have no desire to speak to people who don’t even know what I will be talking about” and he left. The people felt embarrassed and called him back again the next day. This time when he asked the same question, the people replied “YES” So Mullah Nasruddin said, “Well, since you already know what I am going to say, I won’t waste any more of your time” and he left. Now the people were really perplexed. They decided to try one more time and once again invited the Mullah to speak the following week. Once again he asked the same question – “Do you know what I am going to say?” Now the people were prepared and so half of them answered “YES” while the other half replied “NO”. So Mullah Nasruddin said “The half who know what I am going to say, tell it to the other half” and he left!
     
  • One day , one of Mullah Nasruddin’s friend came over and wanted to borrow his donkey for a day or two. Mullah, knowing his friend, was not kindly inclined to the request, and came up with the excuse that someone had already borrowed his donkey. Just as Mullah uttered these words, his donkey started braying in his backyard. Hearing the sound, his friend gave him an accusing look, to which Mullah replied: “I refuse to have any further dealings with you since you take a donkey’s word over mine.”
     
  • A certain man claimed to be God and was brought before the Caliph, who said to him, “Last year someone here claimed to be a prophet and he was put to death!” The man replied, “It was well that you did so, for I did not send him.” (9th century joke)
     
  • A certain man claimed to be a prophet and was brought before the Sultan, who said to him, “I bear witness that you are a stupid prophet!” The man replied, “That is why I have only been sent to people like you.” (9th century joke)
     
  • Someone said to Ashab, “If you were to relate traditions and stop telling jokes, you would be doing a noble thing.” “By God!” answered Ashab, “I have heard traditions and related them.” “Then tell us”, said the man. “I heard from Nafai,” said Ashab, “on the authority of such-and-such, that the Prophet, may God bless him, said, “There are two qualities, such that whoever has them is among God’s elect.” “That is a fine tradition”, said the man. “What are these two qualities?” “Nafai forgot one and I have forgotten the other,” replied Ashab. (a 9th century joke)
     
  • A certain conqueror said to Nasruddin: “Mulla, all the great rulers of the past had honorific titles with the name of God in them: there was, for instance, God-Gifted, and God-Accepted, and so on. How about some such name for me?” “God Forbid,” said Nasruddin.
     
  • “When I was in the desert,” said Nasruddin one day, “I caused an entire tribe of horrible and bloodthirsty bedouins to run.” “However did you do it?” “Easy. I just ran, and they ran after me.”
     
  • NASRUDDIN MEETS DEATH Nasruddin was strolling to market one day when he saw a strange, dark shape appear, blocking his path. “I am Death,” it said, “I have come for you.” “Death?” said Nasruddin. “But I’m not even particularly old! And I have so much to do. Are you sure you aren’t mistaking me for someone else?” “I only kill people who are not yet ready to die,” said Death. “I think you’re wrong,” replied the Hoja. “Let’s make a bet.” “A bet? Perhaps. But what shall the stakes be?” “My life against a hundred pieces of silver.” “Done,” said Death, a bag of silver instantly appearing in his hand. “What a stupid bet you made. After all, what’s to stop me from just killing you now, and thus winning automatically?” “Because I knew you were going to kill me,” said Nasruddin, “that’s why I made the bet.” “Hmmm . . .” mused Death. “I see. But . . . but, didn’t you also know, then, that I would not be able to kill you, because of the terms of our agreement?” “Not at all,” said Nasruddin, and continued down the road, clutching the bag of money.
     
  • Once, Mullah Nasruddin bought a violin. And he began to play. NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…. Same note, same string, over and over. NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…. After a few hours his wife was at her wits’ end. “Nasruddin!” she screamed. NEEE.. Nasruddin put down the bow. “Yes dear?” “Why do you play the same note? It’s driving me crazy! All the real violin players move their fingers up and down, play on different strings! Why don’t you play like they do?” “Well dear, I know why they go up and down and try all different strings.” “Why is that?” “They’re looking for *this* note.” And he picked up his bow and resumed his playing. NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE….
     
  • Mullah Nasruddin went on a pilgrimage to Mecca, and on the way he passed through Medina. As he was walking by the main mosque there, a rather confused looking tourist approached him. “Excuse me sir,” said the tourist, “but you look like a native of these parts; can you tell me something about this mosque? It looks very old and important, but I’ve lost my guidebook.” Nasruddin, being too proud to admit that he, too, had no idea what it was, immediately began an enthusiastic explanation. “This is indeed a very old and special mosque.” he declared, “It was built by Alexander the Great to commemorate his conquest of Arabia.” The tourist was suitably impressed, but presently a look of doubt crossed his face. “But how can that be?” he asked, “I’m sure that Alexander was a Greek or something, not a Muslim. . . Wasn’t he?” “I can see that you know something of these matters.” replied Nasruddin with chagrin, “In fact, Alexander was so impressed at his good fortune in war that he converted to Islam in order to show his gratitude to God.” “Oh, wow.” said the tourist, then paused. “Hey, but surely there was no such thing as Islam in Alexander’s time?” “An excellent point! It is truly gratifying to meet a visitor who understands our history so well,” answered Nasruddin. “As a matter of fact, he was so overwhelmed by the generosity God had shown him that as soon as the fighting was over he began a new religion, and became the founder of Islam.” The tourist looked at the mosque with new respect, but before Nasruddin could quietly slip into the passing crowd, another problem occurred to him. “But wasn’t the founder of Islam named Mohammed? I mean, that’s what I read in a book; at least I’m sure it wasn’t Alexander.” “I can see that you are a scholar of some learning,” said Nasruddin, “I was just getting to that. Alexander felt that he could properly dedicate himself to his new life as a prophet only by adopting a new identity. So, he gave up his old name and for the rest of his life called himself Mohammed.” “Really?” wondered the tourist, “That’s amazing! But…but I thought that Alexander the Great lived a long time before Mohammed? Is that right?” “Certainly not!” answered the Mullah, “You’re thinking of a different Alexander the Great. I’m talking about the one named Mohammed.”
     
  • A neighbor who Nasruddin didn’t like very much came over to his compound one day. The neighbor asked Nasruddin if he could borrow his donkey. Nasruddin not wanting to lend his donkey to the neighbor he didn’t like told him, “I would love to loan you my donkey but only yesterday my brother came from the next town to use it to carry his wheat to the mill to be grounded. The donkey sadly is not here.” The neighbor was disappointed. But he thanked Nasruddin and began to walk away. Just as he got a few steps away, Mullah Nasruddin’s donkey, which was in the back of his compound all the time, let out a big bray. The neighbor turned to Nasruddin and said, “Mullah Sahib, I thought you told me that your donkey was not here. Mullah Nasruddin turned to the neighbor and said, “My friend, who are you going to believe? Me or the donkey?
     
  • One day Nasruddin repaired tiles on the roof of his house. While Nasruddin was working on the roof, a stranger knocked the door. – What do you want? Nasruddin shouted out. – Come down, replied stranger So I can tell it. Nasruddin unwilling and slowly climbed down the ladder. – Well! replied Nasruddin, what was the important thing? – Could you give little money to this poor old man? begged stranger. Tired Nasruddin started to climb up the ladder and said, – Follow me up to the roof. When both Nasruddin and beggar were upside, on the roof, Nasruddin said, – The answer is no!
     
  • Nasruddin opened a booth with a sign above it: Two Questions On Any Subject Answered For Only 100 Silver Coins A man who had two very urgent questions handed over his money, saying: A hundred silver coins is rather expensive for two questions, isn’t it? Yes, said Nasruddin, and the next question, please?
     
  • Nasruddin used to stand in the street on market-days, to be pointed out as an idiot. No matter how often people offered him a large and a small coin, he always chose the smaller piece. One day a kindly man said to him: Nasruddin, you should take the bigger coin. Then you will have more money and people will no longer be able to make a laughing stock of you. That may be true, said Nasruddin, but if I always take the larger, people will stop offering me money to prove that I am more idiotic than they are. Then I would have no money at all.
     
  • As Nasruddin emerged form the mosque after prayers, a beggar sitting on the street solicited alms. The following conversation followed: Are you extravagant? asked Nasruddin. Yes Nasruddin. replied the beggar. Do you like sitting around drinking coffee and smoking? asked Nasruddin. Yes. replied the beggar. I suppose you like to go to the baths everyday? asked Nasruddin. Yes. replied the beggar. …And maybe amuse yourself, even, by drinking with friends? asked Nasruddin. Yes I like all those things. replied the beggar. Tut, Tut, said Nasruddin, and gave him a gold piece. A few yards farther on. another beggar who had overheard the conversation begged for alms also. Are you extravagant? asked Nasruddin. No, Nasruddin replied second beggar. Do you like sitting around drinking coffee and smoking? asked Nasruddin. No. replied second beggar. I suppose you like to go to the baths everyday? asked Nasruddin. No. replied second beggar. …And maybe amuse yourself, even, by drinking with friends? asked Nasruddin. No, I want to only live meagerly and to pray. replied second beggar. Whereupon the Nasruddin gave him a small copper coin. But why, wailed second beggar, do you give me, an economical and pious man, a penny, when you give that extravagant fellow a sovereign? Ah my friend, replied Nasruddin, his needs are greater than yours.
     
  • One day Nasruddin went to a banquet. As he was dressed rather shabbily, no one let him in. So he ran home, put on his best robe and fur coat and returned. Immediately, the host came over, greeted him and ushered him to the head of an elaborate banquet table. When the food was served, Nasruddin took some soup with spoon and pushed it to the his fur coat and said, Eat my fur coat, eat! It’s obvious that you’re the real guest of honor today, not me!
     
  • One hot day, Nasruddin was taking it easy in the shade of a walnut tree. After a time, he started eying speculatively, the huge pumpkins growing on vines and the small walnuts growing on a majestic tree. Sometimes I just can’t understand the ways of God! he mused. Just fancy letting tinny walnuts grow on so majestic a tree and huge pumpkins on the delicate vines! Just then a walnut snapped off and fell smack on Mullah Nasruddin’s bald head. He got up at once and lifting up his hands and face to heavens in supplication, said: “Oh, my God! Forgive my questioning your ways! You are all-wise. Where would I have been now, if pumpkins grew on trees!
     
  • At a gathering where Mullah Nasruddin was present, people were discussing the merits of youth and old age. They had all agreed that, a man’s strength decreases as years go by. Mullah Nasruddin dissented. I don’t agree with you gentlemen, he said. In my old age I have the same strength as I had in the prime of my youth. How do you mean, Mullah Nasruddin? asked somebody. Explain yourself. In my courtyard, explained Mullah Nasruddin, there is a massive stone. In my youth I used to try and lift it. I never succeeded. Neither can I lift it now.
     
  • The wit and wisdom of Mullah Nasruddin never leaves him tongue-tied. One day an illiterate man came to Mullah Nasruddin with a letter he had received. “Mullah Nasruddin, please read this letter to me.” Mullah Nasruddin looked at the letter, but could not make out a single word. So he told the man. “I am sorry, but I cannot read this.” The man cried: “For shame, Mullah Nasruddin ! You must be ashamed before the turban you wear (i.e. the sign of education)” Mullah Nasruddin removed the turban from his own head and placed it on the head of the illiterate man, said: “There, now you wear the turban. If it gives some knowledge, read the letter yourself.”
     
  • One day Mullah Nasruddin lost his ring down in the basement of his house, where it was very dark. There being no chance of his finding it in that darkness, he went out on the street and started looking for it there. Somebody passing by stopped and enquire: “What are you looking for, Mullah Nasruddin ? Have you lost something?” “Yes, I’ve lost my ring down in the basement.” “But Mullah Nasruddin , why don’t you look for it down in the basement where you have lost it?” asked the man in surprise. “Don’t be silly, man! How do you expect me to find anything in that darkness!”
     
  • Mullah Nasruddin had visited a town for some personal business. It was a frigid winter night when he arrived. On the way to the inn a vicious looking dog barked at him. Mullah Nasruddin bent down to pick up a stone from the street to throw at the animal. He could not lift it, for the stone was frozen to the earth. “What a strange town this is! Mullah Nasruddin said to himself. They tie up the stones and let the dogs go free.”
     
  • One day Mullah Nasruddin went to the market and bought a fine piece of meat. On the way home he met a friend who gave him a special recipe for the meat. Mullah Nasruddin was very happy. But then, before he got home, a large crow stole the meat from Mullah Nasruddin’s hands and flew off with it. “You thief!” Mullah Nasruddin angrily called after departing crow. “You have stolen my meat! But you won’t enjoy it; I’ve got the recipe!”
     
  • Mullah Nasruddin was dreaming that someone had counted nine gold pieces into his hand, but Mullah Nasruddin insisted that he would not accept less than ten pieces. While he was arguing with the man over one gold piece, he was awakened by a sudden noise in the street. Seeing that his hand was empty, Mullah Nasruddin quickly closed his eyes, extended his hand as if he was ready to receive, and said, “Very well, my friend, have it your way. Give me nine.”
     
  • Mullah Nasruddin was unemployed and poor but somehow he got little money to eat beans and pilaf at a cheap restaurant. He ate and examined walking people outside with the corner of the eye. He noticed a long, handsome swashbuckler (bully man) behind crowd. The Man was well dressed from head to foot, with velvet turban, silver embroidered vest, silk shirt, satin baggy-trousers and golden scimitar (short curved sword). Mullah Nasruddin pointed the man and asked restaurant keeper, “Who is that man over there!” “He is Fehmi Pasha’s servant, answered restaurant keeper.” Mullah Nasruddin sighed from far away, looked at the sky and said: “Oh, my Good Lord! Look at that Fehmi Pasha’s servant and look at your own servant, here.”
     
  • One day a visitor came to Mullah Nasruddin with a question. “Mullah Nasruddin, the place that we humans come from and the place that we go to, what is it like?” “Oh,” said Mullah Nasruddin, “it is a very frightening place.” “Why do you say that?” the visitor asked. “Well, when we come from there as babies, we are crying, and when somebody has to go there, everybody cries.”
     
  • One day Mullah Nasruddin wished to learn playing zurna (a kind off shrill pipe) and visited a zurna player. “How much does it cost to learn playing zurna?” asked Mullah Nasruddin. “Three hundred akche (coin) for the first lesson and one hundred akche for the next lessons,” asked zurna player. “It sounds good,” replied Mullah Nasruddin. “We may start with second lesson. I was a shepherd when I was a young boy, so I already had some whistle experiences. It must be good enough for first lesson, isn’t it?”
     
  • One day Mullah Nasruddin went to market to buy new clothes. First he tested a pair of trousers. He didn’t like the trousers and he gave back them to the shopkeeper. Then he tried a robe which had same price as the trousers. Mullah Nasruddin was pleased with the robe and he left the shop. Before he climbed on the donkey to ride home he stopped by the shopkeeper and the shop-assistant. “You didn’t pay for the robe,” said the shopkeeper. “But I gave you the trousers instead of the robe, isn’t it?” replied Mullah Nasruddin . “Yes, but you didn’t pay for the trousers, either!” said the shopkeeper. “But I didn’t buy the trousers,” replied Mullah Nasruddin. “I am not so stupid to pay for something which I never bought.”
     
  • Once a renowned philosopher and moralist was traveling through Nasruddin’s village when he asked him where there was a good place to eat. He suggested a place and the scholar, hungry for conversation, invited Mullah Nasruddin to join him. Much obliged, Mullah Nasruddin accompanied the scholar to a nearby restaurant, where they asked the waiter about the special of the day. “Fish! Fresh Fish!” replied the waiter. “Bring us two,” they answered. A few minutes later, the waiter brought out a large platter with two cooked fish on it, one of which was quite a bit smaller than the other. Without hesitating, Mullah Nasruddin cooked the larger of the fish and put in on his plate. The scholar, giving Mullah Nasruddin a look of intense disbelief, proceed to tell him that what he did was not only blatantly selfish, but that it violated the principles of almost every known moral, religious, and ethical system. Mullah Nasruddin calmly listened to the philosopher’s extempore lecture patiently, and when he had finally exhausted his resources, Mullah Nasruddin said, “Well, Sir, what would you have done?” “I, being a conscientious human, would have taken the smaller fish for myself.” “And here you are,” Mullah Nasruddin said, and placed the smaller fish on the gentleman’s plate.
     
  • “Mullah! What do they do with the old full moons?” “They cut them up into small pieces and make the star”
     
  • One day people founded Mullah Nasruddin pouring the remains of his yogurt into the lake. “Mullah Nasruddin , what are you doing?” A man asked. “I am turning the lake into yogurt,” Mullah Nasruddin replied. “Can a little bit of yeast ferment the great river?” The man asked while others laughed at Mullah Nasruddin . “You never know perhaps it might,” Mullah Nasruddin replied, “but what if it should!”
     
  • “Mullah Nasruddin, which side must I walk when carrying a coffin, at the front, back, left or right?” “Take which you like best, so long as you are not inside!”
     
  • One day Mullah Nasruddin was asked “Could you tell us the exact location of the center of the world?” “Yes, I can,” replied Mullah Nasruddin . “It is just under the left hind of my donkey.” “Well, maybe! But do you have any proof?” “If you doubt my word, just measure and see.”
     
  • A group of philosophers traveled far and wide to find, and, contemplated for many years, the end of the world but could not state a time for its coming. Finally they turned to Mullah Nasruddin and asked him: “Do you know when the end of the world will be?” “Of course, said Mullah Nasruddin , when I die, that will be the end of the world.” “When you die? Are you sure?” “It will be for me at least,” said Mullah Nasruddin .
     
  • One day two small boys decided to play a trick on Mullah Nasruddin. With a tiny bird cupped in their hands they would ask him whether it was alive or dead. If he said it was alive they would crush it to show show him he was wrong. If he said it was dead they would let it fly away and still fool him. When they found the wise old man they said, “Mullah Nasruddin, that which we are holding, is it alive or dead?” Mullah Nasruddin thought for a moment and replied, “Ah, my young friends, that is in your hands!”
     
  • “Mullah Nasruddin, why do you always a question with another question?” “Do I?”
     
  • A certain man asked Mullah Nasruddin, “What is the meaning of fate, Mullah Nasruddin ?” “Assumptions,” Mullah Nasruddin replied. “In what way?” the man asked again. Mullah Nasruddin looked at him and said, “You assume things are going to go well, and they don’t – that you call bad luck. You assume things are going to go badly and they don’t – that you call good luck. You assume that certain things are going to happen or not happen – and you so lack intuition that you don’t know what is going to happen. You assume that the future is unknown. When you are caught out – you call that Fate.
     
  • On a frigid and snowy winter day Mullah Nasruddin was having a chat with some of his friends in the local coffee house. Mullah Nasruddin said that cold weather did not bother him, and in fact, he could stay, if necessary, all night without any heat. “We’ll take you up on that, Mullah Nasruddin” they said. “If you stand all night in the village square without warming yourself by any external means, each of us will treat you to a sumptuous meal. But if you fail to do so, you will treat us all to dinner.” “All right it’s a bet,” Mullah Nasruddin said. That very night, Mullah Nasruddin stood in the village square till morning despite the bitter cold. In the morning, he ran triumphantly to his friends and told them that they should be ready to fulfill their promise. “But as a matter of fact you lost the bet, Mullah Nasruddin,” said one of them. “At about midnight, just before I went to sleep, I saw a candle burning a window about three hundred yards away from where you were standing. That certainly means that you warmed yourself by it.” “That’s ridiculous,” Mullah Nasruddin argued. “How can a candle behind a window warm a person three hundred yards away?” All his protestations were to no avail, and it was decided that Mullah Nasruddin had lost the bet. Mullah Nasruddin accepted the verdict and invited all of them to a dinner that night at his home. They all arrived on time, laughing and joking, anticipating the delicious meal Mullah Nasruddin was going to serve them. But dinner was not ready. Mullah Nasruddin told them that it would be ready in a short time, and left the room to prepare the meal. A long time passed, and still no dinner was served. Finally, getting impatient and very hungry, they went into the kitchen to see if there was any food cooking at all. What they saw, they could not believe. Mullah Nasruddin was standing by a huge cauldron, suspended from the ceiling. There was a lighted candle under the cauldron. “Be patient my friends,” Mullah Nasruddin told them. “Dinner will be ready soon. You see it is cooking.” “Are you out of your mind, Mullah Nasruddin?” they shouted. How could you with such a tiny flame boil such a large pot? “Your ignorance of such matters amuses me,” Mullah Nasruddin said. “If the flame of a candle behind a window three hundred yards away can warm a person, surely the same flame will boil this pot which is only three inches away.”
     
  • One December day the village boys decided to play a trick on Mullah Nasruddin to fool him. They hid Mullah Nasruddin’s coat when he was performing ablution for Friday ritual. But Mullah Nasruddin perceived that a trick on the way. “Mullah Nasruddin, it’s a cold day, why don’t you wear your coat?” asked one of them “I left my coat at home to keep the place warm!” answered Mullah Nasruddin.
     
  • Nasruddin was cutting a branch off a tree in his garden one day. While he was sawing, a man passed by in the street and said, “Excuse me, but if continue to saw that branch like that, you will fall down with it.” He said this because Nasruddin was sitting Nasruddin said nothing. He thought, “This is some foolish person who has no work to do but go around telling other people what to do and what not to do.” The man continued on his way. Of course, after a few minutes, the branch fell and Nasruddin fell with it. “My God!” he cried. “That man knows the future!” He ran after him to ask how long he was going to live. But the man had already gone.
     
  • Qazi (Judge) Nasruddin was working in his room one day when a neighbor ran in and said, “If one man’s cow kills another’s, is the owner of the first cow responsible?” “It depends,” answered Nasruddin. “Well,” said the man, “your cow has killed mine.” “Oh,” answered Nasruddin. “Everyone knows that a cow cannot think like a human, so a cow is not responsible, and that means that its owner is not responsible either.” “I’m sorry, Judge,” said the man. “I made a mistake. I meant that my cow killed yours.” Judge Nasruddin thought for a few seconds and then said, “When I think about it more carefully, this case is not as easy as I thought at first.” And then he turned to his clerk and said, “Please bring me that big black book from the shelf behind you…”
     
  • Mullah Nasruddin and his wife came home one day to find the house burgled. Everything portable had been taken away. “It’s all your fault,” said his wife, “for you should have made sure that the house was locked before we left.” The Neighbor took up the chant: “You did not lock the windows,” said one. “Why did you not expect this?” said another. “The locks were faulty and you did not replace them,” said a third. “Just a moment,” said Nasruddin, “surely I am not the only one to blame?” “And who should we blame?” they shouted. “What about the thieves?” said Nasruddin. “Are they totally innocent?”
     
  • That was the time Mullah Nasruddin’s family was very poor. One day Nasruddin ‘s wife woke him in the middle of the night and whispered, “Nasruddin, There is a thief in the kitchen!” “Shhh… Stupid woman! replied Nasruddin. Let him be. Perhaps he find something then we seize it!”
     
  • Ahmad, who was working a long way from home, wanted to send a letter to his wife, but he could neither read nor write. And since he was working during the day, he could only look for somebody to write his letter during the night. At last he found the ho “What does that matter?” answered Ahmad. “Well, my writing is so strange that only I can read it, and if I have to travel a long way to read your letter to your wife, it will cost you a lot of money.” Ahmad went out of his house quickly.
     
  • Nasruddin was returning home one night with one of his students when he saw a gang of thieves standing in front of a house, trying to break the lock. Nasruddin perceived that he would probably get hurt if he spoke up, so he decided to stay quite and pass by quickly. But his student however, did not understand what was happening so he asked: “What are all those men standing there doing?” “Shhh!” replied Nasruddin. “They’re playing music!” “But I can’t hear anything!” “Well we shall hear the noise tomorrow!” Nasruddin said
     
  • Nasruddin was awakened in the middle of the night by the cries of two quarreling men in front of his house. Nasruddin waited for a while but they continued to dispute with each other. Nasruddin couldn’t sleep, wrapping his quilt tightly around his shoulders, he rushed outside to separate the men who had come to blows. But when he tried to reason with them, one of them snatched the quilt off Mul shoulders and then the both of men ran away. Nasruddin, very weary and perplexed, returned to his house. “What was the quarrel about?” wondered his wife when Nasruddin came in. “It must be our quilt,” replied Nasruddin. “The quilt is gone, the dispute is ended.”
     
  • Three Thieves One night, three thieves of the Ut Khel tribe approached a peddler riding a donkey. After salaams, two of the thieves walked on either side of the peddler, regaling him with enchanting stroies, while the third walked behind, jabbing the donkey with a pointed stick to keep him moving at a steady pace. The two thieves then gently lifted the saddle of the weary peddler, while the third led away the donkey, heavily laden with bazaar goods. The peddler eventually fell asleep and the Ut Khel thieves lowered him to the ground and hastily left to join their fellow thief.
     
  • The Teacher A teacher (male) bought new shoes and a new watch and was dying to show off. In school he tried his best but his colleagues did not notice his new watch and shoes. He was eager to get some attention and congradulations, so as soon he walked in to his first class he began beating on the first student at his sight. Then he turned to others saying that if anyone else make a move, pointing to his watch and his shoes, “dar teeng saniya futbaletan mekunum!!!” I will kick you all in a second! The sudents finally notice his shoes and his watch and congradulated him. The teacher replyed: “khar-ha, chera az awal tab- rikee nadaden, zaroor nabood ke lat-te-tan kunum”; why didn’t you congradulated me from the beginning, I wouldn’t have had to beat any of you!
     
  • Daal Khurs Once the king of Afghanistan was invited to Indian (and Pakistan- before their independence). At the dinner table the Indian Prime Minister noticed that the king was chowing the chicken bones (after he had eaten the flesh). With a grin the PM murmmered: if the people here are eating the bones, what do the dogs eat? And the king answered: Daal.
     
  • Saifu An angry man came in to a cafe and yelled:” IS SAIFU HERE?”. No body answered so he yelled again: IS SAIFU HERE OR NOT? Finally a guy got up, “YAH, I AM SAIFU” he said, the angry man came closer and punched the guy, knocked him down on the floor and then left the cafe. The guy got up, cleaned his nose from blood and while every one was expecting a reaction from him, returned to his table without saying anything. Some one came and asked the guy: “How can you just sit here and do nothing? that man knocked you down and you are not even cursing him.” “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I have done to him” said the man with a smirk. “What? How?” asked the other man with curious excitement. “I am not SAIFU” said the guy proudly.
     
  • One day Nasruddin was taking a walk in his village, when several of his neighbors approached him. “Nasruddin Hoja!” they said to him, “you are so wise and holy! Please take us as your pupils to teach us how we should live our lives, and what we should do!” Nasruddin paused, then said “Alright; I will teach you the first lesson right now. The most important thing is to take very good care of your feet and sandals; you must keep them clean and neat at all times.” The neighbors listened attentively until they glanced down at his feet, which were in fact quite dirty and shod in old sandals that seemed about to fall apart. “But Nasruddin Hoja,” said one of them, “your feet are terribly dirty, and your sandals are a mess! How do you expect us to follow your teachings if you don’t carry them out yourself?” “Well,” replied Nasruddin, “I don’t go around asking people how I should live my life either, do I?”
     
  • ONCE UPON A TIME One day, Nasruddin came riding into town. The people stopped him to ask, “Why are you sitting back to front on your donkey?” He replied, “I know where I am going, I want to see where I have been.” Later that evening, Nasruddin was cooking up some things. He went to his neighbor and asked for a pot and promised to return it the next day. A knock, knock came on the neighbor’s door the next day. Nasruddin had come to return the pot. The neighbor looks at his pot and inside was one smaller. The neighbors said, “There is a small pot inside the one I loaned you.” Nasruddin told him, “The pot gave birth.” The neighbor was quite pleased to hear this and accepted the two pots. The very next morning, Nasruddin knocks on the neighbor’s door to borrow a larger pot than the previous one. The neighbor happily abides his the request. A week goes past, without Nasruddin knocking to return the pot. The neighbor and Nasrudding bump into each other at the bazaar a few days latter. Nasruddin’s neighbor asked, “Where is my pot?” “It’s dead,” says Nasruddin. “But how can that be?” queries the neighbor. Nasruddin points out, “If a pot can give birth, then a pot can also die.” �One afternoon, Nasruddin and his friend were sitting in a cafe, drinking tea, and talking about life and love. �How come you never got married, Nasruddin?� asked his friend at one point. �Well,� said Nasruddin, �to tell you the truth, I spent my youth looking for the perfect woman. In Cairo, I met a beautiful and intelligent woman, with eyes like dark olives, but she was unkind. Then in Baghdad, I met a woman who was a wonderful and generous soul, but we had no interests in common. One woman after another would seem just right, but there would aways be something missing. Then one day, I met her. She was beautiful, intelligent, generous and kind. We had everything in common. In fact she was perfect.� �Well,� said Nasruddin�s friend, �what happened? Why didn�t you marry her? Nasruddin sipped his tea reflectively. �Well,� he replied, �it�s a sad thing. Seems she was looking for the perfect man.� Once upon a time, Nasruddin went to the marketplace and put up a sign that read: “Whoever has stolen my donkey, please return it to me and I will give it to them.” “Nasruddin!”, exclaimed the townspeople, “Why would you put up such a sign?” “There are two great gifts in life,” replied Nasruddin. “One is to find something that you’ve lost and the other is to give something that you love away.”
     
  • Mullah Nasruddin and his beautiful daughter Mullah Nasruddin had a beautiful daughter, the desire of all the evil eyes of the men lived in his village. Everyone sought the hand of the fair maiden, but Mullah Nasruddin protected her from the ouside world, saving her for the wealthy young khan who lived just outside the village. At last the young Khan came to ask for the hand of the beautiful maiden. Mullah Nasruddin drove a hard bargain and was to receive the highest bride-price ever bargained for in the entir region. With the usual Muslim regard for ceremony, Mullah Nasruddin insisted on a long waiting-period before the wedding vows could be taken. It seems that the young and beautiful daughter of Mullah Nasrudin had a mind and a body of her own. She fell in love with a young stalwart ne’er-do-well in the village, who constantly showered her with attention as she went to the nearby well to gather water in the morning and at dusk. Her trips to get water began to take longer periods of time. Most people in the village know what was happening, but no one dared tell Mullah Nasruddin. The time for the wedding approached and the young, wealthy Khan came to collect his bride. Mullah Nasruddin brought her to greet her betrothod. Lo and behold! She was well pregnant by this time. The young, rich Khan was horrified, and turned on the Mullah Nasrudding, demanding to know why such a thing had occurred. And when Mullah Nasruddin merely replied that such things are normal when people get married, the young, rich Khan stormed out of Mullah Nasruddin’s compound, and said that he withdrew his offer of marriage to the young beautiful daughter of Mullah Nasruddin and therefore would expect a return on the down payment on the bride price. Mullah Nasrudding, genuinely shocked, called after the young, rich Khan and the young Khan retured. “let us be sensiable about this,” pleaded Mullah Nasruddin. “Actually, I should double the bride price now that my daughter is truly pregnant and can give you a son.” The young Khan, even more horrified, stuttered and asked, “In the name of Allah, why?” Mullah Masruddin calmly replied, “Why just last week I delivered a cow to a man to whom I had sold the cow several months before. In the interim period, the cow becammepregnant, and when I delivered the cow, I demanded and received twice the original amount. Now what is so different between a cow and a daughter?”
     
  • Mullah Nasruddin in Banguet Nasruddin heard that there was a banguet being held in the nearby town, and that everyone was invited. He made his way there as quickly as he could. When the Master of Ceremonies saw him in his ragged cloak, he seated him in the most inconspicuous place, far from the great table where the most important people were waiting on hand and foot. Nasruddin saw that it would be an hour at last before the waiters reached where he was sitting. So he got up and went home. He dressed himself in a magnificent sable cloak and turban and returned to feast. As soon as the heralds of the Emir, his host, saw this splendid sight they started to beat the drum of welcome and sound the trumpets in amenner befitting a visitor of high rank. The Chamberlain came out of the palace himself, and conducted the magnificent Nasruddin to a place almost next to the Emir. A dish of wonderful food was immediatly placed before him. Without a pause, Nasruddin began to rub handfuls of it into his turban and cloak. “Your Eminence,” said the prince, “I am curious as to your eating habits, which are new to me.” “Nothing special,” said Nasruddin; “the cloak get me in here and got me the food. Surely it deserves it portion.”

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One had to stop at the headline that read: Roman Catholics in Malaysia sued for the right to call God “Allah”. Apparently, some Muslim groups and Roman Catholics had this brawl of who can use “Allah” as God’s name and who cannot.

Initially, the headlines were about taking the opposite party to court, for who has the “legitimate” right to use “Allah” but the situation became alarming when some churches were attacked. Violence never should be the manner by which disputes or disagreements are resolved.

I was immersed in disbelief at the statements of some Muslims in Malaysia that “Allah is only for us” and that “We will not allow them to use Allah”

“Allah” is the Arabic name for God, and it indeed pre-dates Islam and even Christianity. The pagan Arabs of the Arabian Peninsula called God “Allah,” even though they worshipped hundreds of idols in addition. Christians all across the Arab World today use the word “Allah” for God, and if one were to read an Arabic Bible, he would find that God is indeed called “Allah.”

One would have thought that the Muslims in Malaysia would welcome the decision of the court to allow Christians to use the word “Allah” for God, as it would be a point of common ground. “Allah” is not some tribal deity that can be exclusively claimed; He is the God of all, and rather than finding more ways to divide Christians and Muslims, members of both faith communities should be working hard to find ways they can come together. Mutually calling God by the name “Allah” would be a great start.

Anxiously, I thought of digging the history of the name “God”

The earliest written form of the Germanic word god comes from the 6th century Christian Codex Argenteus. The English word itself is derived from the Proto-Germanic * ǥuđan. Most linguists agree that the reconstructed Proto-Indo-European form * ǵhu-tó-m was based on the root * ǵhau(ə)-, which meant either “to call” or “to invoke”.[4] The Germanic words for god were originally neuter—applying to both genders—but during the process of the Christianization of the Germanic peoples from their indigenous Germanic paganism, the word became a masculine syntactic form.[5]

The capitalized form God was first used in Ulfilas’s Gothic translation of the New Testament, to represent the Greek Theos. In the English language, the capitalization continues to represent a distinction between monotheistic “God” and “gods” in polytheism. In spite of significant differences between religions such as Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, the Bahá’í Faith, and Judaism, the term “God” remains an English translation common to all. The name may signify any related or similar monotheistic deities, such as the early monotheism of Akhenaten and Zoroastrianism.

Now, you can fight about who can use the words associated to “God”, but this whole controversy arises one very important question, is “God” universal?

Ju tera Khuda hai, Wuh Mera Khuda hai – Tera kaha na manu’n tu, Kyun mujay saza hai?

Translation: Your God is My God – Why do you punish me, If I dont agree with you?

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