Tourists traveling through one of the Central Asian countries were visiting the sights of the eastern city.
On the outskirts of the village they saw an old man, touched by time, sitting on a rug and monotonously strumming one string at a time. He was wearing a turban, a tattered robe that had lost its color. The old man looked somewhere into the distance and hummed a special melody to himself. After stopping briefly near the living oriental antique dealer, the tourists continued their excursion to the city center. There, from afar, they heard the noise of admiration from the crowd and the unusually attractive sounds of some folk instrument. Coming closer, tourists found a young man in the middle of the square, dressed in bright and beautiful clothes. The young man played the new dutar very masterfully, fingering all the strings with dexterous fingers, manipulating the instrument in his hands like a juggler. It seemed that this kind fellow knew everything there was to know about show performances. Enchanted by his performance, the tourists remained to continue enjoying the musician’s talent. And only one of them separated from the group and returned to the outskirts of the city.
When he approached that same old man boringly strumming the string, he asked him: “Dear, there in the center of the city a young man on the same instrument as yours “performs” such pirouettes... plays the dombra so polyphonically... moves so energetically... Really, having a lot of life experience behind you, can’t do what a young musician does?”
The old man continued to play for another five minutes, as if not noticing the person asking him. Then he made a short pause and, saying, “The young man is looking, but I have already found...”, he continued his occupation.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru