Whether it happened or not, they say that in ancient times the Shirin and Vabkent mullahs were friends and respected each other. Shirin residents went to visit Vabkent every day and ate Vabkent pilaf, and Vabkent residents went to Shirin every day and ate Shirin pilaf. The Vabkent mullahs married their sons to the daughters of the Shirin mullahs, and the Shirinskys married their sons to the Vabkent maidens. And the Shirin mullahs lived in peace and harmony with the Vabkent people until the time when the Vabkent mullahs decided to build a minaret, and they built one, which has no equal in height. And the Vabkent mullahs became proud and began to look down on the Shirinites and declare at meetings: “Oh, you hillbillies! We have a minaret, but what do you have?”
And the minaret of Vabkent is truly similar in its slenderness to a cypress, and in its grandeur to a cliff. What lines of art the master gave him, how subtly he decorated the walls with intricate patterns. Everyone looked and admired. Alas, the Shirin mullahs did not have a minaret and envy crept into their souls and became a thorn in their hearts. But it is known that envy and pride do not get along with friendship and respect. The age-old friendship between the Shirin and Vabkent mullahs ended.
But enough about envy and enmity, it’s time to tell what happened to the Vabkent minaret. One day, the Shirin mullahs came to the Vabkent bazaar to sell and buy, buy and sell. At the end of the trade, they sat in the square and played dice with their enemies - the Vabkent mullahs.
The residents of Vabkent were unlucky that day. The Shirin people won everything and the Vabkent people lost everything.
The Vabkent mullahs have already lost money, goods, and even some clothes.
“No, it’s time to finish,” the Vabkent residents shouted, “we have no luck today.”
Then one Vabkent mullah exclaimed in excitement:
“Listen, you Shirinites, bet everything that we lost to you today - money, goods, and clothes, and we’re betting the Vabkent minaret.” Throw the dice. Let's see who wins.
“How can this be?” the Shirin mullahs were surprised. They really wanted to have a minaret in Vabkent, but their proposal from the people of Vabkent was very surprising.
“Isn’t such a beautiful minaret worth some of the money, goods and clothes you just won?” There is no price for the minaret. The minaret is in good working order and can serve well for calling the faithful to prayer. The minaret will go into play with all the bricks from which it was built, with all the decorations and with a muezzin to boot, without any additional payment. Don't you, Shirinites, want to get a minaret so cheaply? Don’t you really want to take care of decorating the square of your village? Play, minaret against money, goods and some clothes! I throw the dice.
The greed of the Shirin mullahs took hold, they had a burning desire to get the Vabkent minaret, install it in the middle of their village and then show off their incomparable minaret to the whole world.
“But,” said one of the Shirin residents, “tell me, smart guys.” If you win money, goods and some clothes, you will take it all and go home, and if we win. How can we move the minaret ten miles away to our village of Shirin? A?
- Why do you need to move the minaret to your place? Let it stand here and belong to you. You, the owners and possessors, will be able to come here to Vabkent at least every day and admire the minaret as much as you want.
“Well, no,” shouted the Shirin mullahs, “where will you find such fools as to throw away your property?” No, it won't work. We won't play.
The Vabkent mullahs see things as bad. The Shirin residents will leave now and take away all the winnings. They hung their heads and were sad.
Nasreddin Apandi passed by. He listened to the conversation and said:
- Take my advice. There is a way in which you, Shirinians, will take away the minaret if luck in the game is on your side. Look, the minaret grows from the ground like a tree. You see the shadow falling from the minaret over there to that bathhouse. See. Gather all your donkeys, place them side by side along the length of the shadow, cut the minaret under the base, it will fall on the backs of donkeys and take it, for the glory of Allah, to your place in Shirin. There you will dig a hole and plant a minaret like a plane tree. Let it grow.
Apandi turned and left.
“Throw the dice, O repository of cunning,” shouted the Shirin mullahs. - We're playing.
The Vabkent shook the bones once, shook them twice, shook them three and... threw them on the ground.
Alas! The Vabkent mullahs lost again.
“Our minaret, our minaret,” the Shirin people cried out. They rejoiced and, grabbing some ketmen, some a crowbar, some an axe, they rushed to the minaret and began to hammer at its base. Iron clattered on brick. Sparks flew.
But the minaret was firmly built, and no matter how much the Shirin mullahs worked for a day, two, or three, they were never able to knock it down and take it with them.
So the minaret remained in Vabkent.
And anyone who doubts the veracity of what has been told should go to the village of Shirin.
The Shirin people will take him to Vabkent and there they will show him the minaret they once won and will show him the deep holes in the base of the minaret, dug out by the once venerable mullahs from the village of Shirin.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru