One wandering Sufi master, crossing high mountains where no man had ever set foot, met a cannibal of gigantic proportions.
“I will eat you,” the giant said to the Sufi.
The Sufi replied:
“Fine, eat me if you can, but I must warn you that I will defeat you, for I am much more powerful than you think.”
“Nonsense,” the monster roared, “you are just a Sufi master immersed in spiritual sciences.” You cannot defeat me because I rely on brute strength and I am thirty times your size.
“Well, let’s measure our strength,” suggested the Sufi, “take this stone and squeeze it so that water flows out of it.”
With these words, he handed the giant a piece of rock. The giant squeezed the stone with all his might, but could not squeeze the water out of it.
“This is impossible,” he said, “because there is no water in this stone.” Try it yourself.
By this time, twilight had gathered over the ground, and the master, taking advantage of the darkness, quietly took an egg out of his pocket and, together with the stone, squeezed it in his fist right above the cannibal’s palm. Feeling the liquid flowing onto his palm, the giant was amazed; for people are often amazed by things for which they cannot explain, and they begin to regard such things with much greater respect than their own interests require.
“I must think it over,” said the giant. “Come on, you’ll spend the night in my cave today.”
The giant led the Sufi into a huge cave, which resembled Aladdin’s cave with an abundance of all kinds of things - all that remained from the countless victims of the gluttonous giant.
“Lie down next to me and sleep,” said the cannibal, “and in the morning we will continue our competition.” “Then he lay down and immediately fell asleep.
Feeling something was wrong, the master quietly stood up, made a semblance of a sleeping man out of rags lying on the floor, and settled down in a safe place at a distance.
As soon as he lay down, the cannibal woke up. Grabbing a huge club, the size of a tree, he hit the empty bed with all his might seven times, then lay down again and fell asleep. The master returned to his bed and called the cannibal in a sleepy voice:
- Hey, ogre! Your cave is comfortable, but I was just bitten seven times by some mosquito. You should do something about it.
These words shocked and frightened the giant so much that he no longer dared to attack the Sufi. After all, if a person was hit seven times with all his might with a club the size of a tree, then he... In the morning the cannibal threw a whole bull skin at the Sufi’s feet and said:
— Bring some water, we’ll make tea for breakfast.
Instead of taking the skin (which he was unlikely to be able to lift), the master went to a stream that flowed nearby and began to dig a small ditch from it in the direction of the cave.
Meanwhile, thirst overcame the cannibal so much that, unable to wait any longer, he shouted to the Sufi:
- Why don’t you carry water?
“Patience, my friend, I’ll now bring the spring water right to your cave so that you don’t have to carry around with this bull’s skin anymore.”
But the cannibal could not stand it any longer. Grabbing the skin, he found himself at the source in a few jumps and collected water himself. When the tea was ready and the ogre had quenched his thirst with a huge amount of water, his mind became somewhat clearer and he said to the Sufi:
“If you really are as strong as you showed me, then why couldn’t you dig a canal faster and dug it a teaspoon at a time?”
“Because,” answered the master, “nothing can be done properly without a minimum amount of effort.” Everything requires some effort, and I spent the minimum amount of effort necessary to dig the canal. Besides, I know that you are a creature so attached to your habits that you will always use the skin of a bull anyway.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru