In laughter, one can glimpse the essence of ultimate truth

It often surprises me that at times, people consider Sufis to be austere, withdrawn figures, removed from the rhythms and warmth of ordinary life. I have observed some people carry the perception that a Sufi, immersed in devotion to the Almighty, shall be a serious, stern person given to little or no humour. This assumption is wrong. These faulty perceptions ignore the rich human texture of the Sufi tradition. For the Sufis, contemplation and compassion flow harmoniously within the self. Seeking the Divine Almighty, the inner light of the Sufis illuminates the path with joyful lightness and grace.

“Sufism is all about the heart, time, and being alive. Whoever loses their heart, their time, and their liveliness is not a Sufi,” said Shaykh Musa Topbaş, a prominent 20th-century Sufi master and the 34th spiritual leader in the golden chain of the Naqshbandi-Mujaddidi-Khalidi order. The Master observed that Sufis must always have a tender heart, be available to those who seek the path of God and must never lose their liveliness and sparkle. Many Sufis have seen laughter as a form of “special illumination,” a way of loosening the ego so that a deeper truth can enter.

Mulla Nasrudin, the legendary “wise fool” through whom deep truths are conveyed with humour and wit, is a vital part of Sufi folklore. Nasrudin’s stories have been passed down by generations, equally popular in villages and towns as they have been in scholarly circles. Mr Idries Shah (1924–1996), a prolific author, teacher, and thinker who played a monumental role in introducing Sufism to the Western world, wrote that the legend of Nasrudin dated from “at least the thirteenth century.”

Historically, many regions have claimed Mulla Nasruddin – Turkey, Persia, Central Asia, and the wider Islamic world. Some have even spoken of him as Hazrat Nasreddin Hodja, a 13th‑century sage associated with wit and popular wisdom. “Superficially, most of the Nasrudin stories may be used as jokes. But it is inherent in the Nasrudin story that it may be understood at any one of many depths. There is the joke, the moral — and the little extra which brings the consciousness of the potential mystic a little further on the way to realisation,” wrote Mr Shah.

An old Sufi story goes that Mulla Nasrudin was ferrying a scholar across a stretch of rough water, and said something to him that seemed linguistically wrong. ‘Have you never studied grammar?’ asked the scholar.

‘No.’

‘Then half of your life has been wasted.’

A few minutes later Nasrudin turned to the passenger.

‘Have you ever learned how to swim?’

‘No. Why?’

‘Then all your life is wasted — we are sinking!’

The Sufis have often mocked the holier-than-thou attitude that egoistic people carry. One such story tells of a seeker who travelled across the world to meet a famous Sufi Master. When he finally arrived, he found the Master eating a huge bowl of cherries and spitting the pits at a target on the wall.

“I expected a saint!” the seeker complained. “Someone who is always in deep meditation or prayer!”

The Master laughed and said, “If I were always in deep meditation, I would never get any better at hitting this target. And if I cannot hit a target I can see, how could I hit the one I cannot?”

Sufi masters used humour for three purposes. The first was de-conditioning. The masters saw that people were so rigid in their thinking that it was important for them to unlearn and get out of their conditioning. Humour was a handy tool for achieving this. Second was to teach humility to their followers. Sufi masters knew that a man who has the ability to laugh at himself cannot be pompous or overbearing. The third was to enable the power of retention. Sufi masters knew that truths delivered in a light manner as a joke are remembered far more than dry, monotonous lectures.

Mulla Nasruddin was preaching in a village for the first time.

“Do you know what I’m going to say?” Nasruddin asked.

“No!” the people shouted.

“How can I preach to people so ignorant?” he said and left.

They begged him to come back.

“Do you know what I’m going to say?” he asked again.

“Yes!” they shouted.

“Good! We can all leave.”

But they asked him to try one more time.

“Do you know what I’m going to say?” he asked.

“Yes!” shouted some. “No!” shouted others.

“So let those who know teach those who don’t!”

Sufi stories have used Mulla Nasrudin as both a folk hero and a spiritual device. By using Nasruddin’s wit as an instrument, Sufis have exposed man’s vanity, his pretensions and also his various assumptions. Mulla Nasruddin never lectures; his simplicity and at times his buffoonery are his biggest strengths. For centuries, Sufis have used Nasrudin to teach, to trigger reflection and bring about subtle inner shifts in the listener, keeping the path anything but dry or humourless.

One day, a man came to see Mulla Nasrudin, bringing a duck as a gift. Delighted, Nasrudin had the bird cooked and shared it with his guest. Thereafter, one villager after another started to call. Each one claimed to be the friend of the friend of the ‘man who brought you the duck’. They expected Mulla to serve them hot, delicious meals. Mulla indulged some of these guests, but he was exasperated that none of them brought any gifts.

One day yet another stranger appeared. ‘I am the friend of the friend of the friend of the relative who brought you the duck,’ he said. The stranger sat down, like all the rest, expecting a meal. Nasrudin handed him a bowl of hot water.

‘What is this?’ questioned the stranger. ‘”That is the soup of the soup of the duck that was brought to me by my friend.” ’ answered Mulla.

The beloved Sufi mystic Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi said that in human laughter, one can glimpse “the Essence of Ultimate Truth.” Through stories of wit and humour, Sufi masters taught their followers how to distinguish the true from the false, and to reach the ultimate goal of God realization with a tender heart and a loving, compassionate soul.

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