Watermelon vs Walnut
One day Nasreddin Hodja was working in his little watermelon patch. When he stopped for a break, he sat under a walnut tree and pondered. “You Sublime Allah,” he said, “it’s your business, but why would you grow huge watermelons on weak branches of a vine, and house little walnuts on a strong and mighty tree?” And as he contemplated such, one walnut fell from the tree right onto his head. “Great Allah,” he said as he massaged his bruised head, “now I understand why you didn’t find the watermelons suitable for the tree. I would have been killed if you had my mind.”
Once at a crossroad, Mulla Nasruddin Hodja saw a portly nobleman riding towards him.
“Hey, Mulla,” said the man. “Which is the way to the palace?”
“How did you know I was a Mulla?” asked Hodja.
The nobleman had a habit of addressing every scholarly-looking man as “Mulla,” which was a title given to learned men and meant “master” but he didn’t want to tell Hodja that. “How did I know?” he bragged. “Well, I’m a mind-reader, that’s how.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Hodja. “As to your question, read my mind and proceed.”
The use of a light
“I can see in the dark,” boasted Nasrudin one day in the tea-house.
“If that is so, why do we sometimes see you carrying a light through the streets?”
“Only to prevent other people from colliding with me.”
The Mulla went to see a rich man. “Give me some money.”
“I want to buy… an elephant.”
“If you have no money, you can’t afford to keep an elephant.”
“I came here”, said Nasrudin, “to get money, not advice.”