Page 142 - The Book of Rumi
P. 142

The Tanner in the Perfume Bazaar


                      t had been a long, hot day, and the tanner had worked nonstop to fi nish all
                   Ithe orders he had received. As sunset approached, he felt more exhausted
                    than usual; all he wanted was to go home, get a bite to eat, then lie down for
                    an extended sleep. He locked up the tannery and began his long walk home,
                    but as he was utterly drained, he uncharacteristically took a wrong turn and
                    ended up in the perfume section of the bazaar.
                       As soon as he smelled the fragrant scents lingering in the air, his head
                    went into a spin, and he passed out lifelessly on the fl oor. Passersby quickly
                    gathered around, trying to help in any way they could. One rubbed his
                    stomach gently while another sprinkled rose water on his face so that he
                    would breathe in the heavenly scent. Someone else caressed his hands, while
                    yet another rubbed his temples gently. A thoughtful shopkeeper quickly
                    made him an infusion of various medicinal herbs, and his assistant helped
                    remove the man’s several layers of clothing. A concerned man took his pulse,
                    while another smelled his breath for any sign of wine or hashish. Others
                    stood around wondering how he could remain alive while looking so com-
                    pletely inanimate!
                       Eventually they discovered who he was and sent for his relatives. He
                    had an astute brother who lived not far from the bazaar, and once he heard
                    what had happened, he wasted no time getting to the scene. On the way, he
                    quietly gathered a small heap of dog feces in the handkerchief that he always
                    carried in his pocket. Arriving at the bazaar, he pushed folks away and man-
                    aged to get to his brother’s side while quietly reminding himself,  “When
                    one knows the illness, it’s simple to fi nd the cure! From dawn to dusk my
                    brother labors in the tannery, surrounded by foul smells. When one falls ill,
                    his only cure is that to which he’s addicted. He’s become sick because he’s
                    been exposed to the unfamiliar. His cure is dog shit not rose water!”
                       Unwilling to let the crowd discover what the actual cure was, the
                    brother gently scattered the onlookers away from the supine tanner while







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