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Young Nasrudin went to his rich neighbour to borrow a larger pot and a dinar. It is difficult to give and even harder to lend but in the end the neighbour brought out from the kitchen one of his many pots and handed over, with regret, one of his many dirhams: “For one week, no more” When the seven days were over, without delay, the Hodja knocked at the neighbour’s door and gave him back the cleaned pot, covered with a clean piece of cloth. “Where is my silver dirham” asked the man. “Just look inside the pot and you will be pleased” In the big pot there was another small pot, inside the small pot the dirham and by the side of the dirham a small copper fals. “See, explained the Hodja, I left your pot in the warm vapour, in my kitchen, with the dinar inside and lo: yesterday morning I found that your pot gave birth to this small pot and, more than this, your dinar also had a son – this cuddly copper coin” The neighbour was pleasantly surprised to see back home all this growing family of his belongings. One month later, when Nasrudin asked again for a big pot and a silver dirham, he was welcome. Now, the seven days passed and even three weeks passed but the Hodja was not to be seen. The neighbour lost patience and came to reclaim his property. Hodja told him with tears in his eyes: “Didn’t you hear about it? I am sad to say, they died. Both of them! The pot got poisoned with mushrooms and the dirham bled to death in childbirth” “What is this mad lie, exclaimed the neighbour, who on earth will believe that a pot can die of poisoning and a dirham perish by haemorrhage?” “Who else than yourself my friend. Didn’t you believe as well that a pot can give birth and a dirham get pregnant? What gives birth dies too”

(c) Copyright 1998-2004 Ioan Tenner