It happened once upon a time that Mullah Nasruddin was talking to a friend whom he had not seen for some time. After they had discussed one thing and another, the friend said, “Mullah, I am going now to have lunch with the village doctor. Why don’t you join us?”

The Mullah stroked his beard, and said, “With the doctor, you say? In that case, no, I am unable to join you.”

“But Mullah,” said the friend, “are you avoiding the doctor? Why?”

“It is out of respect for his feelings,” Nasruddon replied. “Two weeks ago I was sick. He came to see me and declared that I was dying. If he sees me alive now, he might be embarrassed.”