It happened once upon a time that a certain traveler crossing the desert by camel spotted what looked like a body lying in the sand. Drawing closer, he discovered that it was his old friend Mullah Nasruddin, lying face down with arms outstretched.
“Are you all right, Mullah?” asked the traveller in some concern.
“Yes,” said Nasruddin, sitting up, “I am well, thanks be to God.”
“But what are you doing here?”
“I am practicing surrendering. It is the essence of spiritual training.”
The man looked around the featureless desert in confusion. “But Mullah,” he said, “there is no one here. To whom do you surrender? Wouldn’t it be better to do this in our village?”
“Certainly not,” said Nasruddin firmly. “When you surrender in our village, everyone takes advantage of you.”