The Bread

Once upon a time, there lived a very diligent man named Etibar. He toiled from dawn to dusk and earned his living by his own labour. He had a kind and affectionate wife and twelve little children. Every day, Etibar got up before dawn, harnessed two oxen, ploughed the soil, sowed, and watered the wheat. In sultry summer, he reaped and threshed, being drenched in sweat, so he appreciated the bread that he got with such difficulty.

He didn't waste any grain; he didn't let any bit of bread get trampled underfoot. So there was abundance in his house. Though he toiled quite alone, he was able to support his big family in prosperity. He paid tribute to the shah and carried out all the khans' and beks' demands. Bek is a tittle in the past like lord, duke; a form for addressing sir, mister at present. Moreover, all the priests got their portions too. He ordered his wife to keep an eye on their children, follow them, and pick up each breadcrumb.

One day, the shah of that country, returning from his hunting trip, stopped in front of Etibar's house. He saw the dozen children playing in the clean and tidy yard. The children looked like one another. The shah understood that they were brothers and sisters. Each of them were pink-cheeked and bursting with health, as if they had no idea about the lack in the country. The shah immediately called his main overseer and asked, 'Whose house is it? Whose children are they?'

'Your Majesty,' said the overseer with fear, 'this house and yard belong to the ploughman named Etibar. He has twelve little children—one smaller than the other.'

The shah was astounded.

'How does he succeed in supporting such a big family during the time of scarcity in the country? Perhaps he doesn't pay tribute? Perhaps you don't take tribute from him?'

The overseer grew bold.

'Oh no, Your Majesty, it is impossible! I do take tribute from him! He even pays everything with abundance!'

The shah's astonishment increased.

'Perhaps he has another source of income or a legacy from his ancestors?'

'No, Your Majesty, he has only a couple of oxen.'

While the shah was talking to the overseer, his wise vizier was watching the children. He thought a little and said, 'Your Majesty, the overseer is right. There is a secret that I have already guessed.'

The shah asked with interest, 'What is it?'

The vizier answered, not tearing himself away from the children, 'Bread is respected and appreciated in this house, Your Majesty! Look! There are such a lot of children in this yard, but there is no breadcrumbs under their feet!'

At that moment, Etibar's wife came out of the bakery. There was a big tray on her head, and the tray was full of fresh, nice, and brown loaves of bread. Their wonderful smell exhilarated everybody. The children put their arms round their mother's feet crying, 'Mummy, bread! Mummy, scone!'

The mother didn't react to her children. She went towards the house with a graceful carriage and said to her children, 'Go and wash your hands thoroughly, and I'm going to lay the table. Then you may come home and have dinner.'

When the visier heard it, he said, 'Your Majesty, now you can see that bread is respected and appreciated in this house very much!'

The shah said, 'I can't believe that not a breadcrumb will be dropped. They are children and bread is crumbled!'

'No, Your Majesty! It seems to me that their mother gives them such a kind of bread that isn't crumbled. Her children have got used to eating such a kind of bread, so they drop not a crumb.'

The shah returned to his palace. He thought a little and ordered: 'It is forbidden to bake such a kind of bread that isn't crumbed. Everybody is to bake only thin bread, thin scones that are easily crumbed.'

Several days later, the shah asked his vizier, 'Do you know how that ploughman is?'

'Your Majesty, I have found out that there has been a bumper crop, and he lives in abundance.'

The shah sprang to his feet.

'Let's go. Come on. I must see everything with my own eyes. I can't believe it. If the children eat thin brittle bread, it must be crumbed, and children must strew crumbs everywhere. If there aren't any breadcrumbs under their feet, there can't be any abundance. Perhaps he didn't obey my orders!'

They reached Etibar's yard talking to each other. They saw a small, clean, white sack hanging on each child's neck. When eating the bread, the children kept their mouths in the sacks and all the crumbs fell into them. Seeing it, the vizier said, 'Your Majesty, now you have seen for yourself! There will never be lack of bread in this house. Bread is highly respected and appreciated here. They let not a breadcrumb drop and be underfoot.'

The Tale about the Moustache

Once upon a time, there lived a very poor man who had nothing but his large thick moustache, a wife, and a dozen children. He lived in a miserable hovel near the green mosque. He was called 'Moustache' because of his extraordinarily large moustache. Every day, he got up at dawn, put on his wretched clothes, his torn shoes that were hardened because of grime, took his crook, and began going from house to house. He gathered people's cattle and grazed them. In the evening, he returned the cattle to their owners and was given some bread, cheese, and milk. Thus, he supported his family. One day while grazing cattle, he sat on the green grass, leant on a big stone, and said, 'Oh, invisible God! Why do I suffer so much? Why do I have such a terrible fate? For what? What is my fault? Why do you dishonour me before my family? I must go and find God! I must ask him myself. My neighbour Haji Gulam is so rich. He is rolling in money, but I have to pass a beggarly existence. Why?'

Moustache settled down after this decision. In the evening, he returned the cattle to their owners and said, 'Tomorrow I won't graze your cattle any longer. You should find another herdsman.'

He came home and gave the bread to his children. They ate the bread, drank some tea, and went to bed.

The next morning, his wife began to wake him, 'Get up. It's time to go grazing.'

Moustache said, 'I won't go grazing any more. I'm going on a trip.'

His wife became furious:

'Are you in your right mind? What trip?'

Moustache said, 'I'm going to find God and ask him about my suffering. I wonder what my fault is. Why we are half-starved, why my children can't eat enough.'

When his wife heard these words, she thought that her husband had gone mad and began crying. Moustache said, 'My dear, it's no use crying. Please, visit all our neighbours and gather some bread and cheese for me.'

There was no alternative, so his wife had to obey. She visited all their neighbours and brought some food for her husband.

Moustache put on his wretched clothes, his torn shoes, put his scanty things into the weathercock, took his crook, and set off.

Several days later, he reached a desert. It was a boundless desert with yellow sand. There was a spring in the middle of the desert. The spring was surrounded by wonderful green meadows, but there was a tree over the spring with no leaves on it. The tree was dry, as if there was poison under it instead of water.

The man sat by the spring, washed, drank some clean cool water that tasted sweet, and said, 'Thank God! I wonder why this tree has dried. It stands by the spring and among green meadows. Why?'

After having rested, the man rose to his feet and set off. No sooner had he walked a little than he heard a voice.

'Oh, man, you are going to God, aren't you? Please tell him about my request!'

The man was astonished. He began to look from side to side, but he saw nobody. He thought, 'Perhaps I thought I heard a voice.' He continued walking. No sooner had he walkded a little, he heard the same voice again.

'Oh, man, you are going to God, aren't you? Please, tell him about my request!'

Moustache stopped and began to look from side to side again, but he saw nobody. He was terrified and thought that he was going out of his mind. Shaking with fear, he tried to walk, but suddenly, he saw the dried tree bend down and he heard the voice from there.

'Oh, man, you are going to God! Please, tell him about my request too.'

The man understood that the voice was coming from the tree. He grew bold and said, 'Certainly, I'll do it with great pleasure!'

Moustache set out. The tree stood up straight again.

He crossed the desert and reached the sea. He stopped and thought how he could cross the sea. Suddenly, he saw a large fish appear. He heard a voice.

'Oh, man, you are going to God! Please, tell him about my request. Tell him that I have a terrible unbearable headache. What should I do? If you tell him about it, I'll take you across the sea.'

At that moment, Moustache wasn't frightened and said, 'Certainly, I'll do it with great pleasure!'

The fish ordered him to sit on its back. Moustache sat on its back, and that way, they crossed the sea. When they reached the shore, the fish said again, 'Please, don't forget to tell God about my suffering!'

'Don't worry. I shan't forget. I'll tell him about it.'

Moustache said goodbye to the fish and set off. Some days later, he reached a camp. There were a lot of tents and fully laid tables in front of them. The tables were weighed down with the different kinds of viands. The soldiers and their commanders were eating, drinking, talking, and laughing together; some of them were sleeping. Chaos and disorder reigned there.

Moustache sat at the table, ate his fill, and put some food into his weathercock. He wondered who those people were. Suddenly, he noticed a wonderful tent made from scarlet silk among the other tents. He said, 'I'm sure that the solution would be in this tent. I must find out.'

He went up to the tent. Nobody said anything. He grew bold and entered the tent. He saw a table covered by a wonderful tablecloth in the middle of the tent. The table was also weighed down with the different kinds of viands. Some people were eating; some were sleeping at the table. There was a gold throne, and a handsome young man was sitting on it. He was breathtakingly good looking. He was dressed in splendid clothes with beautiful jewellery. Moustache had never seen such magnificence, even in his dreams. As soon as the wonderful young man saw Moustache, he greeted him heartily and offered him a seat beside him. He said, 'Brother, it seems to me that you are a traveller. If you are hungry, you may help yourself.'

Moustached said, 'Thank you very much. I have had enough. I am full up. Could you tell me what all this means? What strange troops!'

The young man said, 'Brother, I will not keep from you anything. I am a shah of this country and these are my troops, but my sorrow is great ...'

The young man didn't finish speaking, his eyes filling with tears.

Moustache looked at his magnificence, wealth, jewelry, at the young shah who was the owner of all this wealth, and thought, 'Oh, my God! Does he have sorrow too? But who doesn't have any sorrow in this world then?'

The shah asked, 'Who are you? Where are you from? Where are you going?'

Moustache told the shah everything in detail. The shah said, 'You may take anything you want from these tables. I don't want you to be thirsty or hungry. Take anything you like for your journey. But if you find God, please tell him about my secret sorrow.'

'Certainly, I'll gladly do it. Only sufferers can understand sufferers.'

Moustache spent the night in one of the tents. He had a rest and set off at dawn. He was very satisfied and buoyant, and he walked with a jaunty gait and buoyant spirits. He had enough food. Suddenly he reached a ploughed field and was astonished. What a scene! There were plenty of people on the ploughed field and work was on in full swing: some were ploughing, some were sowing, some were threshing on the threshing floor, and the others were sorting everything. The work was going fine and everybody was working without respite.

Moustache seized one man's hand and asked, 'Brother, I entreat you in the name of God to explain to me what place it is, who all these people are, why you are working so hard!'

The man answered hurriedly, 'This is the country of fortunes and lots. Each of us is a lot of a concrete person. While we are working, people are lucky. If we stop working and begin sleeping, they will be worse. Haven't you heard the proverbs "Someone's fortune is on their feet. Someone's fortune is sleeping"?'

Moustache asked, 'And where is my fortune?'

The man showed a waste ground that was overgrown with weeds.

'Look! Your fortune is sleeping by the ditch near the baulk! How loudly he is snoring! Now leave me alone. I must work!'

When Moustache saw his sleeping and snoring fortune, he became furious. The waste ground that was overgrown with terrible weeds shook him. He came up to his sleeping fortune and struck him in the small of the back with his crook.

'Hey, damn it! While I am disgraced before my family, you are sleeping and snoring here!'

Moustache began to beat his fortune. The fortune got up groaning, but Moustache continued beating him, wreaking his anger on him.

Suddenly, God saw it from the heavens and said to his angel Jabrayil, 'Jabrayil, go down! Otherwise, Moustache will break his fortune's back.'

Jabrayil came down and said, 'Hey, man, stop beating him. Don't break your fortune's back!'

Moustache asked, 'Who are you? Why are you meddling in the relation between my fortune and me?'

Jabrayil said, 'I am God!'

Moustache got angry.

'Really? Are you God?' Saying it, he tried to strike Jabrayil on his head, but Jabrayil took wing and stood above the man's head. Moustache shook his crook and shouted at the top of his voice, 'You have moved away from me and now you are in the heavens. Come down and I'll give you a box on your ears. You will understand all my shame before my family.'

While Moustache was arguing with Jabrayil, his fortune escaped from his grasp and began working. He joined the other fortunes and worked very hard too.