“All the past days cannot be returned, even all the days are brought together” It is really so. Where are those days? Once upon a time, rest and peace to the dead, the late khan used to go out to the rose garden with tobacco on his hand putting on his curved hat and all the people – the old, the young sat in a circle. And the blind Mugdusi began to play “Koroghlu”. Believe me, you have never seen such a trumpet player. The young men used to wrestle in the square till the night. In the evening everyone used to go home in joy. Holiday should be spent so.
In fact, I didn’t like this Scarlet Wednesday. Though we fired many rifles, set off fireworks, it wasn’t like the old holidays: no ram fighting, no horse riding, no wrestling. They didn’t happen. It seems that people have given up their religion, their beliefs. Is it a feast? Those were the days! There is no blessing now. All the blessings stood in the past. If we have a few blessings, it is because of Muslim women. Our sisters have never given up their beliefs: on Wednesday they listened to ear fortune-telling[1], took a shower in seven millstreams, they cleaned gravestones of the dead. May God bless these sisters! Holiday should be spent so!
Heartbroken
Molla Nasreddin, March 24, 1907, N 12
[1]. It is a tradition to go for listening talks of neighbors at the dark time with an intention. The first audible words are commented in accordance with the intention kept
