Molla Nasreddin was walking with his students through the market square. Suddenly he noticed that the students were staring at a large dish with pieces of fried meat standing in front of a portly, important merchant. Molla said nothing, but only calmly watched as the students, fascinated by the smells, devoured the dish with their eyes. So the cat could watch over the mouse.
The merchant began to eat. He grabbed a large piece of meat with his thick fingers and bit into it with the greed of a tiger. The juice splashed in different directions, the fat flowed down the merchant's chin and his hands, dripping onto his expensive dress. His gaze was fixed only on the meat, and he hardly noticed the ornament on the dish, which Nasreddin appreciated.
The students looked away from this sight with shame and disgust and met the gaze of their teacher, whom they completely forgot about for a while. They expected reproaches, but Nasreddin laughed.
“This is a wonderful sight,” he said, “meat eating meat.” But there is something worse than what you saw: when meat that doesn’t even belong to you begins to devour you.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru