Daughters and their marriage
A rich farmer was father of many young and beautiful daughters. He was trying desperately to marry off his daughters at the earliest.
One day he met Mulla Nasruddin. “I have several daughters,” the farmer told the Mulla. “I would like to see them comfortably married. And I would also like to say that they won’t go to their husbands without having any amount in their bank. The youngest one is twenty-three-year old and she will take Rs35,000 with her. The next one is thirty-four, and she will take Rs55,000 with her. Another is forty-five and she will take Rs85,000 with her.”
“That’s very good,” said Nasruddin. “I was just wondering if you have one about fifty-five years of age.”
Catching up with the reporter
Mulla Nasruddin was testifying in Court. He noticed that everything he said was being taken down by the court reporter. As he went along, he began talking faster and still faster. Finally, the reporter was barely able to keep up with him.
Suddenly, Mulla said, “Good Gracious, Mister, don’t write so fast, I can’t keep up with you!”
The job interview
“What’s the idea,” asked the boss of his new employee, Mulla Nasruddin, “of telling me you had five years’ experience, when now I find you never had a job before?”
“Well,” said Nasrudin, “didn’t you advertise for a man with imagination?”
We didn’t have enough money for new clothes, shoes, jewellery, etc, all around the year, so it was Eid we used to wait for. We knew this was the time when we would finally get to have new and fancy clothes. This was the time that our mothers would take us to get matching choorian and hair-bands. This was the time when we could get our formal sandals from the bazaar that we would wear for the rest of the year on our visits to family and friends.
The night before Eid, ammi would aplly mehndi to my hands, or one my elder sisters would do that for me. My sisters and I would cover our hands in plastic bags and would sleep with them still on. We would keep our new dresses perfectly ironed along with our sandals and choorian on the side of the bed so that we could keep an eye on them during the night.
Often we would be up all night because of the excitement of Eid or sleep very restlessly waking up every few minutes to see if it was morning yet. We knew our new flashy clothes wouldn’t go to waste but we would be having guests who would appreciate our appearances and would even lighten up their pockets for us. Oh yes … eidi!
We didn’t lead the lives our children live today, surrounded by iphones, ipads, laptops, games, mobile phones, etc. We didn’t even have a fixed pocket money so eidi came out as the best gift of the year. Be it five rupees or 10, eidi was never quantified. It was the mere feeling of getting eidi that just made the entire festival more festive.
The three days of Eid used to pass in meeting family and hosting friends. Sheer Khorma and Pulao were the highlights and of course a treat for us as well since these were not made on a regular basis in our humble homes. Cousins used to come over to stay where we would gossip all day long, help our mothers in the kitchen and compete for the best mehndi designs. We had little; one new dress, one pair of shoes, a set of bangles, a small currency note, but the happiness was immense. I just wish my children could feel the same love, happiness and respect for Eid that we did!