Short Story: The Mullah gets blamed for something he didn't do, but should have been aware enough to do, anyway.

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The Mullah's (Nasruddin) wife was changing all of the linen on his father-in-law's bed. She removed all of the pillowcases, and sheets, and even the doona cover, in order to wash them. The father-in-law had four pillows on his bed. He had two on one side, two on the other. He had the funny habit of sleeping on one side of his king-size bed on one night, then on the other side of the large bed, on the next night. (His idea was logical. When Fatima, his daughter washes the bed, half of the water will not be wasted then, because half of the sheets were still clean, and unused.) The Mullah, hearing her doing this from his study up the hall, came down, and he helped (meaning, he carried it all) to carry this large pile of bedding to the laundry, and to place it in the tub for her there. So, his wife (effectively, with the Mullah's help) put all of the washing in the washing machine, and she washed it all there. Then, he, the Mullah, retreated back to his study. When it came to pegging the stuff on the clothesline, though, the Mullah came out again to help her to do this, as he knew that it can be difficult to place king size sheets onto the line alone, yet alone, to carry the still wet heavier sheets to the line, up the back of his house too. They had no ringers in those days, except for the Mullah's strong hands. They pegged it all nicely, although the Mullah did get accused of allowing one sheet to touch itself on the ground, dirtying it over a bit. But, then, there was one pillowcase missing. The Mullah's wife noticed it when everything was now on the line. Immediately, Fatima, the Mullah's wife, told him off. "You must have left one on the pillow, when you helped me to remove all of his linen from his bed," she said forcefully, eyeing him up with her eagle eye stance, hands poised on hips, like wings, ready to fly out at him too. (Her usual pattern, when she was in a flap.) The Mullah said nothing. He knew that he had not helped her to do this bit at all. He had been in his library, all morning; in fact, he had never ever gone into his father-in-law's room, in all of the 12 months, that he had been there now. He didn't like to go in there, as he respected the old man's privacy, that he thought that he should at least have, in his own room, here in the Mullah's house, as a guest. The Mullah had picked all of the washing up before from, where it had been piled up onto the tiled hall area, just outside of his father-in-law's door. Later, the wife must have thought about this little incident again, though. She always did this, whenever the Mullah never defended his own position, and when he went stony-faced silent at her, as she knew then that there might indeed be a chance that she could have been perhaps a little bit wrong, about how things had really happened. At least, she had this insight into the Mullah's character, as well as she was also growing in her own. "Maybe, you did not go in the room, as I accused you of before, but you should have noticed the pillow, lying there on the floor, with its pillow-cover still on it. You pride yourself with such awareness, after-all," she then had said to him. The Mullah remained silent, but this time not with his stony face still attached. He smiled, because he had realised what her train of thoughts had been. He had been waiting for her to take this backstep, and he was curious if she would indeed do so this time. Photo Credit: The photo used here belongs to me, the author, of this piece Sure enough, the pillowcase was still there on the pillow, in the old man's bedroom!