Alf alf alf Shukr to you all!

Due to your encouragement, support and appreciation for this humble space I have been awarded an Honorable/Honourable (depending which part of the globe you are from ) Mention in the Mideast category of this years Brass Crescent Awards. The nomination was surprise enough, let alone finding out of this surprise. JazakumuLlahu khairan katheeran adaba!

Mabruk to all other winners and nominees, may the Islamophere continue to be blessed in contributing worthwhile sites in cyberspace that benefit the Ummah and Insha’Allah all mankind. Grateful appreciation to Brass Crescent for this annual effort and to all behind the scenes judging! ShukriLlah, Alhumdulillah!

And now to some classic Nasruddin, as the word ‘honourable’ cannot be mentioned without thinking of his tales and the intrinsic lessons within the humour.

He shares with us one banquet in his honour:

One day, it happened that someone said something to someone, who said something to someone else, who somehow formed the impression I was an important person. The result of this chain of folly was that I was invited to be the guest of honor at a banquet.

I was puzzled but honored to be given such an invitation. At the appointed day I presented myself at the door of the banquet hall. I had walked all day in my usual simple garb to get to the city in which the banquet was being held, and I suppose I could have used some freshening up. At any rate, the guards at the door took one look at me and barred the door.

“But I’m Nasruddin, the guest of honor!”

“Of course you are!” the guards laughed. One bent toward me and said, “And I am the caliph himself!” At which they both roared with laughter. Still chuckling, they said, “Go away, old man, and don’t let us see you here again!”

I obliged them with the first part of their request. The banquet hall was located on the city square, and I recognized a friend’s house on the opposite side. I walked there and knocked. My friend answered.

“Nasruddin!” he embraced me and we gave each other warm greetings and gratitude to Allah, glorious and merciful is He, for this meeting. I came right to the point.

“Do you remember that red brocade coat you wanted to give me last year?” I asked.

“Certainly! It still hangs in my closet, waiting for you. Are you ready to receive it?”

“With gratitude,” I replied. “Do you have other plans for it?”

“What do you mean, Nasruddin?” he asked.

“I just wondered if you would like the coat back after I have borrowed it?”

“Oh, no, Nasruddin! It is yours to keep and do with what you wish!”

“Just so, my friend. Thank you.” I visited for a brief while, then received the coat and put it on. I made my apologies and departed back across the square, adorned with a dazzling brocade coat with gold brade and colored stones lining the epaulets. The buttons were ivory, the fastenings were jet black. All in all, I was a wonderful sight.

The guards bowed low at my approach, and ushered me into the banquet hall. The table was richly laid, and all the guests were there. Someone showed me to a seat at the head of the table, and announced “The august, the wise, the true Nasruddin!” I sat, and everyone else sat at the same moment.

They all watched expectantly, waiting to see what the guest of honor would do. The first course was soup. When it was served, all eyes were on me. I picked up my bowl of soup and stood, holding it high. Then I poured the soup down the front of my coat.

The guests were astounded. A gasp arose so that the air was almost sucked from the room. Then they broke into remonstrations and shouts. “What are you doing! What are you thinking!”

When it was quiet enough so I could speak, I addressed my coat. “O coat, I hope you have enjoyed that delicious soup. It is clear that it is you who are welcome here, not I!”

~*~

And another:

A banquet is a wonderful thing for those who attend, but for he or she who is the guest of honor, it is a trial. All the attention is on you, everyone hangs on your every word and move, and your manners are under close scrutiny.

O my beloveds, it befell upon me that I was invited to a second banquet. This surprised me after the story of the first banquet was told far and wide. Yet people are strange, and will admire that which they do not understand.

So it was I was told a special carriage would be sent for me. I could not abide being such a curiosity as the guest of honor is, but what could I do? The carriage pulled up in front of my little home, and I stepped out to meet my doom.

The coachman turned and looked at me. “Where is Nasruddin?” he asked. “I’m supposed to pick up the Great and Honorable Nasruddin, and bring him to the banquet in gracious style.”

“Oh, him,” I replied. “He is almost ready.” Then it struck me. “However, my good man, he has a quirk about which you may have heard.”

“A quirk? What quirk? He is a great man! He is much honored! He has no quirks!”

“Oh, we all have our quirks” I said. “His is benign. His humility is so great that he does not wish to be seen while entering and exiting the carriage. He wishes for you to avert your eyes at these moments so that he is not distressed by undue attention.”

“Ah, is that all?” cried the coachman. “I will oblige the great man, of course. Just warn me before he makes his appearance.”

“Here he comes now,” I said, looking back over my shoulder. “Are your eyes averted?”

“My eyes will not look upon the Great and Honorable Nasruddin if he does not wish it!” he cried. He averted his eyes and covered his head with his cloak. I walked to the carriage and opened the door. “There you are,” I said. “I will sit up with the coachman.” And with that I slammed the carriage door, and climbed up with the coachman, who of course had no idea who I was. He uncovered his head and we began the trip to the banquet hall.

Along the way one of the wheels rolled into a considerable hole in the road, and the carriage gave a mighty jolt. The coachman was much concerned. He turned and addressed himself to the door of the carriage. “Is the Great and Honorable Nasruddin in good order?” he bellowed.

“I’ll check,” I said, and climbed down. I opened the door and looked in. “Everything okey dokey?” I asked. Then I slammed the door and climbed back up. “All is well.” I told the coachman.

“I was surprised at the familiar way in which you addressed the great man,” the coachman said. “It seemed a great liberty, most impolite.”

“It would seem so to the uninformed, it is true,” I replied. “But Nasruddin and I are on very close terms.” The coachman was satisfied and we drove on our way.

We arrived at the banquet hall. There were many carriages and palanquins, and guests dressed in gloriously colored garb. The coachman began to bellow,”All avert your eyes…” but I put my hand on his arm.

“Nasruddin’s humility is so great, he would not want to draw notice in this way. Let us wait for a lull in the crowd.” When the crowd had thinned a little, I instructed to coachman to avert his eyes.

“My eyes will not look upon the Great and Honorable Nasruddin if he does not wish it!” he cried, and he averted his eyes and covered his head with his cloak. I opened the door of the carriage with great ceremony, and said just loud enough for the coachman to hear, “We have arrived, Nasruddin. You may disembark and make your way into the banquet hall. The ushers will guide you. I myself will remain with the carriage to keep the coachman company.”

I waited for a few moments, then slammed the door and climbed back up with the coachman. “Let us ride out to the river,” I suggested. “It is peaceful there, and we can see the banquet hall, so we will know when we are wanted again.”

The coachman agreed it was a good plan, so we spent a quiet evening by the river, watching the sun set over the peaceful water, and listening to the night birds calling to each other. We talked of this and that, of the coachman’s life, and had a very nice time. At last things began to stir at the banquet hall. People poured out, and carriages began to arrive. The coachman was concerned lest we be late.

“Nasruddin will want to wait until the others have left,” I assured him. Let us wait.” So we did. When it was quiet at the banquet hall, we rolled up to the door, and I dismounted. “Please avert your eyes,” I said to the coachman.

“My eyes will not look upon the Great and Honorable Nasruddin if he does not wish it!” he cried, and he averted his eyes and covered his head with his cloak. I opened the carriage door with great ceremony.

“There you are, yes, it’s a little high, watch your step. Good man, you’re in. Settled? Comfy? Good.” and I slammed the door. I climbed up next to the coachman and we rolled back through the town to my little home.

“The Great Nasruddin does you considerable honor to stay with you when he could obviously stay with the Caliph himself,” said the coachman when we had arrived.

“Ah, he is a strange man, that Nasruddin,” I replied. “He does pretty much what he wants. Now please, avert your eyes.”

“My eyes will not look upon the Great and Honorable Nasruddin if he does not wish it!” he cried, and he averted his eyes and covered his head with his cloak. For the final time I opened the carriage door with great ceremony.

“Here we are, home at last,” I said, and waited a few moments, then slammed the carriage door. I opened my door and said,”Go right in, I’ll just say a word of thanks to the coachman,” and slammed the door of my house.

“I thank you for an enjoyable evening, my good friend,” I said. “It was a pleasure and an honor to spend the evening with such a courteous and considerate soul. May the blessings of Allah be upon you and your family.”

“I thank you as well,” replied the coachman. “I have seldom enjoyed such a peaceful and contented evening. I only hope the Great Nasruddin was satisfied with the service. I assure you, I never even peeped at him.”

“I have it from his own mouth that he was fully satisfied. He commends you in the highest terms, and wishes you good fortune always. He particularly wanted me to tell you that he hopes that Allah will smile on you all your days.”

And we both returned to our homes well pleased with the evening, in spite of the strange rumors that circulated for a while that the Great and Honorable Nasruddin never showed his face at his own banquet.
It’s a habit of yours to walk slowly.

~*~

All good is from Allah Ta’ala whereas mistakes are from this humble speck. May Allah Ta’ala Bless all readers, bringing you all closer to Him and His Rasul SallAllahu alaihi wasallam.  May He accept our humble efforts and grant us the capacity to be good and do good. Ameen.