The Quilt Is Gone, the Fight Is Done

by rjs
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Published on: January 16, 2014
A Mullah Nasruddin story

The Quilt Is Gone, the Fight Is Done

Mullah Nasruddin
Mullah Nasruddin

One winter night, Mullah Nasruddin and his wife Fatima were sleeping soundly in their own beds, snuggled up under the covers and quilt, when the loud din of quarreling voices outside wakened them. It sounded like two thieves were drunk and arguing about something, but neither Nasruddin nor Fatima could make out quite what was the source of conflict.

After the noisy row had gone on for a while, Fatima urged her husband to get out of bed and investigate the matter. “They could be thieves,” she whimpered, pulling the bedsheets up close. “They could be terrorists.”

Yawning, Nasruddin agreed to check out the disturbance. He was far too sleepy to bother to dress in his turban and cloak, which would have shown the shouting hooligans that he was a village judge, a man not to be disturbed in the middle of a heavenly dream. Instead, Nasruddin wrapped the quilt that Fatima had painstakingly hand-stitched around his shoulders and trudged outside to investigate the commotion.

As Nasruddin stepped outside into the cool night air to confront the two boisterous men, they stopped their fighting and faced the Mullah. Before Nasruddin could even say, “Stop fighting, will you?” the two men set upon him with fists and shouts. One of the thieves grabbed Fatima’s quilt from off the Mullah’s back, spun him around, then tore off into the night with the other man, leaving Nasruddin naked and stupefied.

Finding himself shivering, Nasruddin dashed upstairs to the bedroom, where Fatima was awaiting his return. She asked, “Nasruddin, what happened to the two men? What were they arguing about at this time of night? And where did my beautiful handmade quilt go?”

Nasruddin could only sigh and reply, “They must have been fighting about your quilt, because as soon as they took it, they stopped fighting. Still, I’m glad to report, now that the quilt is gone, the fight is done.”

This story continues with “Thank God I Wasn’t in It”

Excerpted from The Uncommon Sense of the Immortal Mullah Nasruddin

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