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download mulla nasrudin stories in english pdf

Thus Spake Mulla Nasruddin
225 Mulla Nasruddin Stories That Never Happened
225 Jokes
Year published: 1972
Book dedicated to Ma Yoga Vivek
The mother told her little boy, Nasrudin, that if he stayed home and behaved himself, she
would bring him something from the store.
When she returned home, she asked him: "Well, were you a good little boy, Nasrudin?"
"Oh," said Nasrudin, "I was gooder than good. Why, I was so good I could hardly stand
"Please, mister, will you ring that doorbell for me?" asked little Nasrudin.
The gentleman obliged with a beaming smile.
"Now, sonny, what else should I do?"
"Run like hell!" said Nasrudin.
A very voluble preacher was working himself into a frenzy during a sermon on hell and
damnation. Little four-year-old Nasrudin in the congregation couldn't take his eyes off
the wild figure in the pulpit. Finally he whispered to his mother: "What will we do if he
ever gets loose?"
The four-year-old Nasrudin's birthday party was well organized the neighbourhood
ladies, with games, races, and treasure hunts. In the midst of the confusion, little
Nasrudin asked: "When this is all over, can we play?"
Father: "Remember, son, beauty is only skin deep."
Mulla Nasrudin: "'S' deep enough for me. I'm no cannibal."
The father was reading the school report which had just been handed to him by his
hopeful son, Nasrudin. His brow was wrathful as he read: "English, poor; French, weak;
Mathematics, poor; History, weak;" and he gave a glance of disgust at the quaking lad.
"Well, Dad," said Nasrudin, "It is not as good as it might be, but have you seen that?"
And he pointed to the next line, which read: "Health, excellent."
A teacher attempting to broaden the outlook of her narrow-horizoned class, asked each
student to write an essay on his views of foreigners. All turned more or less acceptable
pieces except for hard-bitten young Nasrudin, whose essay in full was: "All foreigners
are bastards."
The shocked teacher made us direct comment but devoted her next lecture to a
description of Greek architecture, Roman law, English drama, German music, Italian
poetry, Russian novels, Chinese philosophy, and African sculpture. She then asked the
class tow rite another essay on foreigners.
With beating heart, she reached Nasrudin's paper. It said, in full: "All foreigners are
bastards. Some are cunning bastards."
Nasrudin (who has eaten his apple): "Let us play Adam and Eve."
Small sister: "How do you play that, Nasrudin.
Nasrudin: "Well, you tempt me to eat your apple and I will give in."
Nasrudin, aged seven, asked to count in school, responded promptly: "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,
9, 10, jack, queen, king."
Little Nasrudin pulled a very weed from the garden. "You must be pretty strong,
Nasrudin, to pull out such a big weed," remarked a neighbour.
"Yes," agreed Nasrudin. "Do not forget that the whole world was pulling on the other
"What a boy you are for asking questions," said Nasrudin's father. "I'd like to know what
would have happened if I'd asked as many questions when I was a boy?"
"Perhaps," suggested young Nasrudin, "You would have been able to answer some of
The little boy, Nasrudin, would not take his medicine. His father was trying to persuade
"Come on, Nasrudin," said his father. "I don't like medicine any better than you, but I just
make up my mind that I'll take it, and I do. It's just a question of will power."
"Well, when I have got medicine to take," said Nasrudin, "I just make up my mind that I
won't take it, and I don't."
It seemed to the father of Mulla Nasrudin that, now that his son had turned thirteen, it
was important to discuss these matters which an adolescent ought to know about life.
So he called Nasrudin into the study one evening, shut the door careful, and said with
impressive dignity: "Son, I would like to discuss the facts of life with you."
"Sure thing, Dad," said Nasrudin. "What do you want to know?"
"Will you marry me, darling?" asked Mulla Nasrudin.
"Before I give you my answer," the young lady said, "I'd like to ask you one question: Do
you ever drink anything?"
"Yes," said the young Nasrudin rather proudly, "Anything."
Gruff father to Nasrudin: "Why don't you get out and find a job? When I was your age I
was working for Rs.3 a week in a store, and at the end of five years I owned the store."
Nasrudin: "You can't do that nowadays. They have cash registers."
"Kiss me," said the young lady urgently. "Mulla, please kiss me."
But Mulla Nasrudin turned his head away, saying: "of course not. How can I? I am your
own brother-in-law. Heck, we shouldn't even be lying here making love."
The first morning after the honeymoon, Mulla Nasrudin got up early, went down to the
kitchen, and brought his wife her breakfast in bed. Naturally she was delighted. then he
spoke: "Have you noticed just what I have done?"
"Of course, dear; every single detail," said his wife.
"Good," said Nasrudin. "That is how I want my breakfast served every morning after
Mulla Nasrudin had been back from his honeymoon only a week when a friend asked
him how he liked married life.
"Why, it's wonderful," was his enthusiastic reply. "It's almost like being in love."