Page 63 - The Book of Rumi

The Man Who Killed His Mother

n one of the poor neighborhoods of town, a woman had been sleeping
Iwith every man who approached her. One day, her son, who could no lon-
ger bear the shame, stormed into her bedroom. He attacked her with his dag-
ger, stabbing her repeatedly, making sure that she was dead.
His will was resolute, and he kept his head up as he staggered out of the
house, his clothes stained with her blood. He walked purposelessly along the
back streets of the neighborhood for several hours until a friend chanced upon
him and soon heard his confession.
“But, my friend, why did you kill her? I don’t understand,” the friend asked
him, completely perplexed.
“She was a prostitute and shamed me every day!” blurted out the young
man, angry that his friend had not understood his pure intention and was now
questioning him.
“Why didn’t you kill her lovers? Why kill her ?” repeated the confused
friend.
“I would’ve had to kill a man a day!” rationalized the troubled man. “This
way her shame is buried with her for all time, and I don’t ever have to commit
another murder.”

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