It happened once upon a time that the mayor of Nasruddin’s village passed away. Isn’t it the destiny of every mortal? And Nasruddin and his wife were getting ready to go to the funeral. But the Mullah seemed to be in no hurry, taking his time and dawdling over one thing and another while his wife stood waiting by the door.
“Nasruddin,” she said impatiently, “hurry up! The ceremony will have started already! Why is it we always come late to funerals? It looks as if you do it on purpose.”
“I do,” said Nasruddin, “I am fulfilling a spiritual exercise.”
“What?! What on earth are you talking about?”
“If I have a firm habit of being late for funerals, I might also be late for my own.”