Once upon a time there lived a man named Mojud. He lived in a small town, worked as a small official, and it looked like he would end his days as an inspector of weights and measures.
One day Mojud was walking through the park among the ancient ruins not far from his home, and suddenly Khizr, the mysterious Sufi Mentor, dressed in shimmering green, appeared in front of him.
- A man with brilliant prospects! Leave your work and wait for me in three days on the river bank,” Khizr said and disappeared.
Mojud went to his boss in agitation and said that he had to leave. The news of this instantly spread around the town's residents. In street conversations all one could hear was: “Poor Mojud! He's gone crazy!
But since there were many applicants for his place, everyone soon forgot about him.
On the appointed day, Mojud met Khizr, and he said to him:
-Tear your clothes and throw yourself into the stream. Perhaps someone will save you.
Mojud did as he was told, although he felt like he was going crazy. He knew how to swim and therefore did not drown, but he was carried along by the current for a long time until some fisherman pulled him into his boat, saying:
- Stupid man! There is a very strong current here. Why did you go into the river?!
“I don’t know myself,” Mojud answered.
- You're crazy! - exclaimed the fisherman. “But I’ll take you to my hut on the shore, and then we’ll see what to do with you.”
And the fisherman directed the boat to the shore.
Having learned that Mojud was a literate person, the fisherman kept him with him. He fed Mojud, and he taught him to read and write, and helped him in his work. Several months passed like this. One evening, when Mojud had already gone to bed, Khizr appeared in front of him and said:
- Get up immediately and get away from this fisherman. You will be taken care of.
Mojud immediately got out of bed, dressed like a fisherman, and, surprised by all this, left the shack. After being lost in the dark for half the night, he finally got out onto the road. At dawn, Mojud caught up with the leisurely riding peasant and walked next to him.
“You’re probably looking for work,” the peasant turned to him. - If you want, come with me. I'm going to the market, and on the way back I'll need a porter.
Mojud followed him. He worked for a farmer for about two years and during that time he learned a lot about farming, but little about anything else.
One day at noon, Mojud, tying wool into bales, again saw Khizr in front of him, who said:
- Leave this job, take your savings, go to the city of Mosul and open a leather trade there.
Mojud did just that. In Mosul he became known as a leather trader. He was a merchant for three years, and during this time Khizr never came to him. Having saved up some money, Mojud began to think about buying a house, when suddenly one day Khizr appeared before him again.
“Give me your money,” he ordered, “and go to distant Samarkand.” There, get a job with a grocer.
Mojud did just that.
Soon he began to show undoubted signs of enlightenment. He treated the sick, and also managed to help his partner in the shop; both during work and in his free time, he penetrated deeper and deeper into the mysterious. Priests, philosophers and many others visited him and asked:
—Who did you study with?
“It’s hard to say,” Mojud answered.
— How did you set on the Path? - his students asked.
— I was a minor official.
- And you left this position to devote yourself to self-taming?
- No. I just left it.
They didn't understand him. Some wanted to record the life story of this amazing grocer and asked Mojud:
— What did you do in your life?
“I threw myself into the river, became a fisherman, then one night I left the fisherman’s hut and worked for a while for a peasant. One day, while I was packing wool, a change happened to me, and I went to Mosul, where I opened a leather business. There I saved some money, but then gave it away and went to Samarkand. And now I'm a grocer.
“But this inexplicable behavior does not shed any light on your remarkable abilities and skills.
“That’s true,” answered Mojud.
And then the biographers composed a fascinating story about Mojud; after all, every saint must have his own story, and the story must correspond to the ideas of the public, and not to reality.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru