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The Magic of Mushkil Gusha Retold by
Aaron Shepard Version 3.4 For Idries Shah How to Say
the Names Mushkil Gusha | MUSH-kil
goo-SHAH ("mush" rhymes with
"push") Once in the royal city of One morning, the woodcutter's daughter
said, "Father, we always have enough to eat. But just once, it would be
nice to have something special. Do you think you could buy us some date
cakes?" "I think I could do that, my
dear," said the woodcutter. "I'll just gather some extra wood
today." So the woodcutter walked farther that
day to gather more thorn bushes. But he took longer than he meant to. By the time he got back with the wood,
darkness had fallen. It was too late to go to the marketplace. What's more,
when he reached his house, he found that his daughter had already bolted the
front door and gone to bed. Knock as he would, there was no answer.
So he had to sleep outside on the doorstep. Next morning, the woodcutter awoke while
it was still dark. He told himself, "I might as well go out right now
and get another big load of wood. Then I can sell twice as much and buy even
more date cakes." So he left his load and went back to the
desert to gather more bushes. But again he took longer than he meant to, and
when he got back, it was dark and the door was bolted. So again he had to
sleep on the doorstep. He awoke once more before dawn.
"There's no sense wasting a day," he said. "I'll go back out
for one more big load. How many date cakes we'll
have then!" But yet again he took too long, and yet
again the door was bolted when he got back. The woodcutter sank to the doorstep and
wept. "What's wrong, old man?" He looked up to see a dervish in a long
green robe and a tall green cap. "Holy sir, for three days I have
gone out to gather thorn bushes, and for three days I have come home too late
to get into my house. And in all that time, I've had nothing to eat." "What night is this, old man?" The woodcutter said, "Why, Friday
eve, of course." "That's right. It's the eve of our
holy day. And that's the time of Mushkil Gusha." "Mushkil Gusha?" said the
woodcutter. "That's right, old man -- the
'Remover of Difficulties.'" The holy man took some roasted chickpeas
and raisins from his pouch and handed them to the woodcutter. "Here,
share this with me." "Thank you, sir!" "You may not know it," the
dervish went on, "but Mushkil Gusha is already helping you. If you want your
good fortune to continue, here's what you must do: Every Friday eve, find
someone in need. Then share what you have, and tell a tale of Mushkil Gusha.
That way, you both will be helped." And with that, the holy man vanished. As the woodcutter stared at the empty
spot, the door to his house swung open. "Father, where have you been? Oh,
please come inside! I was so worried!" A few days passed, while the woodcutter
and his daughter enjoyed the many date cakes he bought after selling his
wood. Then one morning, when the woodcutter had gone to the desert and his
daughter had finished her housework, she decided to go walking in a public
park. She was strolling down a broad path when
a carriage stopped beside her. "What a pretty little girl!"
said a royal young lady. "I am the daughter of
the king. Would you like to be my handmaiden?" "Yes, Your Highness," the girl
said, blushing. So the woodcutter's daughter became a
handmaiden of the princess. With the gifts the princess gave her, she and her
father became quite rich. He bought a nice house, and he didn't have to
gather thorn bushes anymore. But somehow he forgot what the dervish
told him. A month went by. One day, the princess
went on a picnic to one of her father's private gardens, and she brought
along the woodcutter's daughter. There was a small lake there, so they
decided to go for a swim. The princess took off her necklace and
hung it on a branch overlooking the water. But when she came out, she forgot
all about it. A few days later at the palace, the princess
looked for the necklace but couldn't find it. She turned angrily to the
woodcutter's daughter. "You stole my necklace! You must
have taken it when we went for our swim!" "No, Your Highness, I wouldn't do
that!" "You're a thief and a liar too!
I'll show you what happens to people of your kind! Get out of my sight!" The woodcutter's daughter ran home in
tears. But an hour later, soldiers came to the door. They arrested the
woodcutter and carried him off to a public square in front of the prison.
Then they locked his feet in the stocks and left him there. The woodcutter had to suffer the taunts
and jeers of the passersby. Some people were kinder, though, and even threw
him scraps of food. Now, that evening was Friday eve. As the
sun set, the woodcutter cast his thoughts over all that had happened to him
in the past weeks. All at once, he cried out. "Oh, what a foolish, ungrateful
wretch I am! Didn't the dervish say to share what I have each Friday eve and
tell of Mushkil Gusha? Yet I haven't done it once!" Just then, a packet of chickpeas and
raisins landed by the woodcutter. When he looked up, he didn't see who had
thrown it. But he did see a beggar boy coming by. "Young friend!" called the
woodcutter. "Please share this with me while I tell you a story." The boy sat down and gratefully took
what was offered. As he ate, the woodcutter related everything that had
happened, from when his daughter asked for date cakes, to when he was put in
the stocks. "Thank you, sir," said the
boy. "I needed the food, and the story was good too. I hope it has a
happy ending." The beggar boy went on his way. But he'd
only gone a block when a rich merchant stopped him. "My one and only son! Ever since
you were stolen at birth, I've looked for that birthmark on your left cheek. Now
at last I've found you!" But they leave our story here. The next day, the princess had another
picnic in her father's private garden, and again she went down to the lake
for a swim. She was about to step into the water when she saw the reflection
of her necklace. She looked up into the tree -- and there was the necklace
itself, right where she had left it. "That woodcutter's daughter didn't
take it at all!" By the end of the day, the woodcutter
was free from the stocks, and his daughter was back in the palace. And every Friday eve after that, the
woodcutter always remembered to find someone in need, share what he had, and
tell his tale of Mushkil Gusha. About the
Story The custom of invoking Mushkil Gusha is
practiced in The name Mushkil Gusha is Persian
for "Remover of Difficulties." But exactly who and what is he? If
you ask Iranians, you get differing answers. Some say he is Ali, the prophet Muhammad's
cousin, son-in-law, and true successor -- as he is considered by the Shiites,
whose sect of Islam predominates in Others say Mushkil Gusha is the prophet Khidr, the "Green One," the patron saint of the
Muslim holy men called dervishes. (Khidr
is the Arabic name. In This tale was retold chiefly from
"The Story of Mushkil Gusha" in Persian Tales, collected and
translated by D. L. R. and E. O. Lorimer,
Macmillan,
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