Breaking Wind: Legendary Farts

[-Serenity-]

The Historic Fart

 

1001 Nights

 

They recount that in the city of Kaukaban in Yemen there was a man named Abu Hasan of the Fadhli tribe who left the Bedouin life and became a townsman and the wealthiest of merchants. His wife died while both were young, and his friends pressed him to marry again.

Weary of their pressure, Abu Hasan entered into negotiations with the old women who procure matches, and married a woman as beautiful as the moon shining over the sea. To the wedding banquet he invited kith and kin, ulema and fakirs, friends and foes, and all of his acquaintances.

 

The whole house was thrown open to feasting: There were five different colors of rice, and sherbets of as many more; kid goats stuffed with walnuts, almonds, and pistachios; and a young camel roasted whole. So they ate and drank and made merry.

 

The bride was displayed in her seven dresses -- and one more -- to the women, who could not take their eyes off her. At last the bridegroom was summoned to the chamber where she sat enthroned. He rose slowly and with dignity from his divan; but in do doing, for he was over full of meat and drink, he let fly a great and terrible fart.

 

In fear for their lives, all the guests immediately turned to their neighbors and talked aloud, pretending to have heard nothing.

 

Mortified, Abu Hasan turned away from the bridal chamber and as if to answer a call of nature. He went down to the courtyard, saddled his mare, and rode off, weeping bitterly through the night.

 

In time he reached Lahej where he found a ship ready to sail for India; so he boarded, arriving ultimately at Calicut on the Malabar coast. Here he met with many Arabs, especially from Hadramaut, who recommended him to the King. This King (who was a Kafir) trusted him and advanced him to the captaincy of his bodyguard. He remained there ten years, in peace and happiness, but finally was overcome with homesickness. His longing to behold his native land was like that of a lover pining for his beloved; and it nearly cost him his life.

 

Finally he sneaked away without taking leave and made his way to Makalla in Hadramaut. Here he donned the rags of a dervish. Keeping his name and circumstances a secret, he set forth on foot for Kaukaban. He endured a thousand hardships of hunger, thirst, and fatigue; and braved a thousand dangers from lions, snakes, and ghouls.

 

Drawing near to his old home, he looked down upon it from the hills with brimming eyes, and said to himself, "They might recognize me, so I will wander about the outskirts and listen to what people are saying. May Allah grant that they do not remember what happened."

 

He listened carefully for seven nights and seven days, until it happened that, as he was sitting at the door of a hut, he heard the voice of a young girl saying, "Mother, tell me what day was I born on, for one of my companions wants to tell my fortune."

 

The mother answered, "My daughter, you were born on the very night when Abu Hasan farted."

 

No sooner had the listener heard these words than he rose up from the bench and fled, saying to himself, "Verily my fart has become a date! It will be remembered for ever and ever.

 

He continued on his way, returning finally to India, where he remained in self exile until he died. May the mercy of Allah be upon him!

[-Serenity-]

The Father of Farts

 

1001 Nights

 

It is related that there was a qadi in the city of Tarabulus in Syria during the reign of the Khalifah Harun al-Rashid, who exercised the functions of his office with a notorious severity. His only servant, and the only woman in his harem, was an old negress like a Nile buffalo, for the man's parsimony equaled the rigor of his judgments. Allah curse him!

 

Though he was abundantly rich, he lived on stale bread and onions. Also his avarice went hand in hand with an ostentation of generosity. When a neighbor called about mealtime, the qadi would cry to the negress, "Lay the gold-fringed cloth!"

 

No one was ever invited to the repast which followed, and the show of the cloth, instead of being taken as an indication of bounty, passed into a proverb; so that a man who had been ill-served at any feast would say, "I ate at the qadi's gold-fringed cloth." It will be seen that this wretched old man, to whom Allah had given both riches and honor, lived a life which would have sickened a starving dog. May he burn in Hell!

 

One day, certain folk who wished to influence the qadi to give a favorable judgment, said to him, "O, our master, why do you not take a wife? That old negress is not worthy of you."

 

"Who would find me a wife?" asked the qadi, and one of them answered, "I have a very beautiful daughter. Your slave would be highly honored if you would take her to your house."

 

The qadi promptly accepted this offer, and the marriage took place at once. The girl was conducted to her husband's house in the evening and, being most discreet and amiable, refused to show her surprise when no food was produced and no mention made of it. The guests and witnesses stayed on in hope for some time and then, as the kitchen fire was not even lighted, returned to their own homes, cursing the bridegroom's meanness.

 

The young wife had begun to starve before she heard her husband tell the negress to lay the gold-fringed cloth. As she was accustomed to plenty of excellent food in her father's house, she went forward eagerly as soon as the cloth was laid, but only to discover that the sole dish was a basin containing three bits of brown bread and three onions. As she sat in amaze, the qadi took one of the pieces of bread himself, gave the like to the negress, and invited the girl to devour her share, saying, "Do not fear to abuse the gifts of Allah!" He swallowed his portion with great gusto, and the negress made but one mouthful of hers, for it was the first meal of the day; but for all her good will, the unfortunate wife could not swallow a mouthful of the horrible stuff. She left the table, fasting and bitterly resenting the darkness of her destiny.

 

Three days passed, and on each the gold-fringed cloth was set with brown bread and sorrowful onions. But on the fourth day, the qadi, hearing cries from his harem, went to investigate and was met by the negress who told him that her mistress had revolted against that house and had sent to fetch her father.

 

The qadi sought his wife with furious flaming eyes, heaped curses upon her, accused her of all debauchery, cut away her hair by force, and repudiated her by the third divorce. Casting her forth into the street, he shut the door violently behind her. May Allah damn the foul old knave!

 

A few days afterwards this avaricious son of avarice found another wife in the person of the daughter of certain folk who wished to stand well with him. He married again; but the poor child, after three days of onions, revolted and was divorced. Yet this served as no lesson to others who needed the good graces of that horrible old man, and he married several other daughters on the same terms, casting them forth after a day or so, because they could not abide the onions.

 

But a time came when the multitude of his divorces was noised abroad and grew to be the general subject of conversation in the harems. The matrons banded together and decreed that henceforth the miser was to be considered unmarriageable.

 

Now that no woman would have it, the qadi began to be tormented by his father's inheritance and took long walks to cool its importunity. One evening, he saw a woman approaching him mounted upon a gray mule, and was very much affected by the richness of her clothes and possibility of her figure. He gave a twist to the sad ends of his moustaches and bowed before her respectfully, saying, "Whence come you, noble lady?"

 

"Along this road," she answered.

 

"I know that," answered the qadi with a chuckle, "but from what city?"

 

"From Mosul," said she.

 

"Are you married or single?" said he.

 

"Single," said she.

 

"If you would like to be my wife," said he, "I will bind the bargain by becoming your husband."

 

"Tell me where you live," said she, "and I will let you know tomorrow."

 

The qadi told her where he lived; but she knew already, she knew. She left him with charming glances out of the corners of her eyes.

 

Next morning she sent a message to the qadi saying that she would marry him if she received a dowry of fifty dinars. The miser had a violent struggle with himself, but he sent the fifty dinars, bidding the negress to bring back the bride. As soon as the girl arrived at his house, the marriage contract was written out, and the witnesses went away unfed.

 

Soon the qadi called to the negress, saying, "Lay the gold-fringed cloth." When the basin was brought in, holding three dry crusts and three onions, the new bride took her portion and ate it with relish, saying, "I thank Allah for an excellent repast."

 

She smiled gratefully at the qadi, and he cried, "I also thank him that he has sent me, out of his generosity, a wife who is all perfection, who takes today's little and tomorrow's much with equal mind!" But the blind pig did not know the destiny which lay in wait for him in the cunning brain of that delightful woman.

 

Next morning, when her husband was away at the divan, the girl inspected all the rooms of the house and came at last to a cabinet whose door was closed with three enormous locks and strengthened by three strong iron bars. She walked about and about this cabinet with the liveliest curiosity, until she found a hole in one of the moldings which would almost admit the passage of a finger. Setting her eye to it, she was overjoyed to see all the qadi's accumulated treasure of gold and silver set in open copper jars upon the floor inside. Being determined to profit by this discovery, she procured a long palm stalk and, smearing the end of it with a sticky paste, passed it through the hole in the molding. By twisting it about in the mouth of one of the jars, she caused several gold pieces to adhere to it, and triumphantly withdrew them.

 

Returning to her own apartment, she gave the money to the negress, saying, "Go out to the market and buy fresh rolls sprinkled with sesame, some saffron rice, some tender lamb, and the finest fruits and pastries which you can find."

 

The negress went forth in eager astonishment and brought back all these excellent things to her mistress, who made her partake of them in equal shares. "Light of my head," the poor old woman cried, "may this succulent generosity turn to fair white fat upon you! I have never eaten such a meal!"

 

"You may feed thus every day if you will only keep silence and say nothing to the qadi," answered the girl; so the negress kissed her hand and promised absolute discretion.

 

"Lay the gold-fringed cloth!" cried the qadi when he returned at noon; but his wife served him with the remains of her own excellent meal. He ate greedily until he could hold no more, and then asked the source of the provision.

 

"Dear master," replied the girl, "I have many relations in this city; one of them sent these dishes to me. I would have thought nothing of them, had it not been for the joy it gives me to share them with you." And the qadi rejoiced in his soul that he had married such a wife.

 

Next morning the palm stalk was no less successful, so that the wife was able to purchase a lamb stuffed with pistachios, and other admirable matters. She invited some of their neighbors to eat with her, and all the women feasted pleasantly until the hour of the qadi's return. Soon after the guests had departed, carrying with them the promise that these joyful mornings should often be repeated, the qadi entered and bade the negress spread the gold-fringed cloth. But when he was served with even more delicate and numerous viands than the day before, he became a little anxious and asked his wife how she had come by such costly things.

 

The girl, who was herself waiting upon him, answered without hesitation, "Dear master, you must take no more thought for our nourishment. One of my aunts sent me these few trifling dishes. Oh I am happy if my master is satisfied." The qadi congratulated himself on having married so thoughtful and well-related a damsel, and set about stuffing himself to the supreme limit of his capacity.

 

At the end of a year of such living the qadi had become so fat and had developed so notorious a belly that the people used the thing as a proverb, saying, "As large as the qadi's belly!" "As stupendous as the qadi's belly!" The poor fool did not know that his wife had sworn to avenge all those unfortunate girls whom he had starved and shorn and cast aside; but you shall now hear how thoroughly she carried out her attention.

 

Among the neighbors whom she fed daily was a pregnant woman, the wife of a necessitous porter and already the mother of five children. One day her hostess said to her, "Dear neighbor, as Allah has given you a numerous family and very little else, would you like to hand over your baby to me when it is born, that I, who am barren, may care for it and rear it as my own? If you agree and promise to keep absolute silence, I will see that you and yours never feel the pinch of poverty again."

 

The porter's wife accepted this offer and promised absolute secrecy. On the day appointed by Allah she gave birth to a boy who was twice the size of an ordinary infant, and the qadi's wife received him.

 

That morning the girl prepared a dish consisting of beans, peas, white haricots, cabbage, lentils, onions, cloves of garlic, various heavy grains and powdered spices. The qadi's enormous belly was quite empty when he returned for the midday meal, so he took helping after helping of this mixture, until all was finished.

 

"Make me such a dish every day," he said. "It slips most pleasantly and easily down the throat."

 

"May it be both delicious and digestible!" answered his wife.

 

The qadi congratulated himself, as he had so often done before, on the excellent choice of a wife; but an hour afterwards his belly began visibly to swell. A noise as of a far-off tempest made itself heard inside him. Low grumblings and far thunders shook the walls of his being and brought in their train sharp colics, spasms, and a final agony. He grew yellow in the face and began to roll groaning about the floor, holding his belly in his two hands.

 

"Allah, Allah!" he cried. "I have a terrible storm within! Who will deliver me?"

 

Soon his paunch became as tight as a gourd, and his cries brought his wife running. She made him swallow a powder of anise and fennel, which was soon to have its effect, and, at the same time, to console and encourage him, began rubbing and patting the afflicted part, as if he had been a little sick child. Suddenly she ceased the movement of her hand and uttered a piercing cry, "Yu, yu, a miracle a prodigy! O master, my master!"

 

In violent contortions the qadi stammered forth, "What is the matter, what is the miracle?"

 

But she only answered, "Yu, yu! O my master, my master!"

 

"Tell me what the matter is!" he yelled, and she passed her hand afresh over that tempestuous belly, as she replied, "Exalted be the name of the Highest! He says, and it is done! Who shall discover his secret purposes, my master?"

 

Between two howls, the qadi gasped, "May Allah curse you for torturing me so! What is the matter? Tell me at once!"

 

Then said his wife, "Master, dear master, his will be done! You are with child! And your time is close at hand!"

 

The qadi rose up at these incredible words, and cried, "Have you gone made? How can a man be pregnant?"

 

"As Allah lives I do not know," she answered, "but the child is moving in your belly; I have felt it kicking and touched its head. Allah scatters increase where he will, may his name be exalted! Pray for the prophet, my husband!"

 

So the qadi groaned out in the midst of his convulsion, "May the blessing of Allah be upon him!"

 

Then his pains increased, and he fell howling to the floor in a crisis of agony. Suddenly came relief. A long and thunderous fart broke from him, shaking the foundations of the house and throwing its utterer violently forward, so that he swooned. Then followed a multitude of other escapes, gradually diminishing in sound but rolling and re-echoing through the troubled air. Last came a single deafening explosion, and all was still.

 

As the qadi came gradually to himself, he saw a little mattress by his side, on which a newborn baby, swaddled in linens, lay squalling and grimacing. His wife bent over him, saying, "Praise be to Allah and to his prophet for this happy deliverance!" Then she went on murmuring the sacred names over her husband and the child, until the qadi did not know whether he dreamed or whether his recent sufferings had turned his head. But when he came to consider the matter calmly, the sight of the child, the cessation of his pains, and the memory of the tempest which had escaped from his belly, forced him to believe in this miraculous birth. Also maternal love caused him to accept the infant.

 

"Surely Allah may bring forth his people according to his will!" he said. "Even a man, if he is fated to do so, may bear a child in due season! Get me a nurse, dear wife, for I cannot feed the child myself."

 

"I had already thought of that. I have one waiting in the harem," she replied. "But a mother's milk is best of all. Are you sure that your breasts have not swelled?"

 

The qadi felt anxiously, and answered, "No, there is nothing there."

 

The young wife rejoiced at the success of her strategy and, after telling the qadi that he must keep his bed for forty days and forty nights, gave him such medicines as are usual and petted him till he fell into a doze. Being worn out by his colic, the old man slept for a long time, and when he woke found his body as well as his mind was ill at ease.

 

His first care was to enjoin secrecy on his wife, saying, "I am lost for ever if folk get to know that the qadi has given birth to a veritable child."

 

Instead of reassuring him, his wife answered, "We are not the only folk who know of the fortunate miracle. All our neighbors have already heard about it from the nurse. And I am afraid that it will be as difficult to prevent the news from spreading through the city, as it would have been to stay the tongue of the nurse in the first place. They are all babblers."

 

The qadi spent the forty days upon his bed in deep mortification, not daring to move for fear of complications and internal bleeding, and brooding all the time over his monstrous accident. "Surely my foes will accuse me of many ridiculous things," he said to himself. "They will say that I have let myself be buggered in some extraordinary fashion, and that it is all very well for me to be severe in my judgments when I have given myself up to such strange immoralities that I can bear a child. As Allah lives, I am sure that they will accuse me of having been buggered, me, their virtuous qadi, and I have almost forgotten what it feels like!"

 

Thus he reflected, little knowing that his avarice was the cause of all his woes; and the more he thought, the blacker and more pitiable his case appeared to him. When his wife told him at last that he might rise without fear of complications, he bathed in the house, because he did not dare to go to the hammam. Finally he resolved to quit the city of Tarabulus, rather than run the risk of being recognized in the streets. He informed his wife of his intention, and she -- while pretending deep grief that he would be obliged to abandon his great office -- only made him the more fixed on flight by saying, "Evil tongues are certainly wagging about you now; but your adventure will soon be forgotten. Then you can return and devote yourself to rearing your child. -- I think that we had better call him Miracle."

 

"Call him what you like," answered the qadi. That night he departed from the city by stealth, leaving his wife in charge of the house and child, and journeyed in the direction of Damascus.

 

He came to Damascus weary, but happy in the thought that no one knew his name or story. Yet, in the next few hours, he heard the tale of his exploit repeated countless times in all the public places of that city. Also, as he had feared, each new gossip added some fresh detail to tickle the laughter of his hearers, attributing extraordinary organs to the qadi and bestowing on him every variety of that name which he dared not formulate even to himself. But happily no one knew his face, and he was able to go on his way unrecognized. Towards night he even grew so hardened that he would pause and listen to his own story. In fact, when he heard himself accused not of one child but of a whole family, he could not help laughing a little, and murmuring, "They may say what they like, as long as they do not recognize me."

 

Though he lived in Damascus even more miserly than before, his provision of money at length ran out, and he was obliged to sell his clothes for bread. Finally, rather than send a message to his wife in which he would have to tell her where his treasure lay, he hired himself out to a mason as a mortar carrier.

 

Years went by, and the old qadi, round whom the curses of the people of Tarabulus swarmed at night, became as thin as a cat locked in a barn. At last, feeling certain that the years would have effaced the memory of his misfortune, he left Damascus and came, a mere wraith of skin and bone, to his native city. As he went through the gate, he saw a group of children playing together and heard one of them say to another, "How do you expect to win when you were born in the qadi's year, the year of the Father of Farts?"

 

"I thank Allah," murmured the delighted qadi, "that he has caused my tale to be forgotten! Behold, some other qadi has become a proverb in the mouths of the children!" He went up to the boy who had spoken, saying, "What qadi is this whom you call the Father of Farts?"

 

"He was given that name," answered the child, "because once, when he had broken wind enormously, his wife made him think -- ." But nothing is to be gained by repeating the sorry story here.

 

Realizing for the first time that he had been fooled by his wife, the qadi left the children and ran in all haste to his own house; but the doors were open to the wind, the floor was broken, and the walls had crumbled away. In the remains of the treasure cabinet there was no gold piece or silver piece, nor hint nor smell that such had been. His neighbors, hearing him lament, told him, as well as they could for laughter, how his wife had given him up for dead and departed with all his goods into a far country. Without answering a word, he turned and left that city. Nor was anything ever heard of him again.

 

Source

[Faarax-Brawn]

[blank]

[-Serenity-]

Afro, what do you mean not me? Does me = 'evil mod' only IYHO? (yeah I saw ur comment and I didnt appreciate it .... next you'll be suggesting a whole thread dedicated to kicking me out of this site! :mad: )

 

I liked both stories. Just thought I'd share with those bored at work too.

 

p.s. Feel free to add how u got exiled from Garissa for the same reason.

[Faarax-Brawn]

^I apologise Walaalo. Did not mean to brush you the wrong way.

[Qac Qaac]

wax waalaan in aa tahay awolba waan ogaa.. haddaa sheekada dhuuso ee mareesaa soo ma aha..

maxaa ku xigo doona

[shyhem]

Afromali

Damn she really scared the hell out of you..... ..forgot about the farting legend, i wanna know what really happend btw the two of you