It happened once upon a time that Mullah Nasruddin borrowed a very large pot from his neighbour. A few days later, he returned the pot, and the neighbour was surprised to see a very small pot lying in the bottom of it.

“Mullah,” said the neighbour, “what is this? Where did this little pot come from?”

“It is yours,” Nasruddin replied. “By the grace of the Almighty your pot gave birth while it was in my home. So this little pot belongs to you.” And he left the neighbour staring at the small pot in astonishment.

Some time later, when Nasruddin came again to the neighbour, asking to borrow the pot, the man was very willing to lend it to him. “Certainly, Mullah, certainly,” he said with a smile, passing him the large pot, “be my guest.”

But weeks passed and Nasruddin did not return the pot. Finally, one day the neighbour met him in the street and asked the Mullah when he was going to bring back his pot.

Nasruddin looked very grave, and said, “My friend, I have bad news to tell you. By the will of the Almighty who decides all destinies, while it was in my care your pot died.”

“Died? What do you mean, my pot died? Mullah, how can a pot die?”

“You ask how a pot can die?” Nasruddin replied. “You believed a pot gave birth, and if it can give birth, then surely it can also die!”