One day a poor and hungry visitor took a piece of bread from his pocket and hold it over a hot cauldron food at a open restaurant window. The dry bread became softer and he began to eat it but the restaurant keeper stoped him for fee of the food steam. The poor visitor had no money and they decided to go to judge.
Our Hodja was the judge of the town and listened carefully both men. Hodja took some golden coins from his purse and show them to the restaurant keeper.
- Come here, please! said to him.
When he came to receive coins, Hodja jingled the coins in the palm of his hands to the man's ear.
- Now the fee was paid, said Hodja.
- What is that all about? the restaurant keeper wondered and asked.
- Justice! Hodja replied, the sound of money is a fair compensation for the smell of the food.
Quand le mensonge est appelé vérité , Tel est l'ordre des choses qui prévaut à notre époque ; chaque valeur morale se retrouve bouleversée de telle manière que les gens ne sont plus capables de distinguer le Bien du Mal
"Après le décès de Cheikh Sharafouddin, j'attendais une ouverture pour émigrer de la Turquie, j'étais dans en séclusion dans la mosquée à côté du tombeau de mon Cheikh, priant une nuit auparavant Fajr.
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