It happened once upon a time that there was a large wedding being prepared in the town where Nasruddin was living. It was the topic of conversation for weeks in advance, especially including much speculation about what delicious dishes would be served at the feast. Dozens and dozens of people were invited to the wedding feast, but by some oversight no invitation came to the Mullah.

On the day of the wedding, the guests began to assemble, and Nasruddin waited restlessly at home, hoping that his invitation would arrive soon. But time passed and no invitation came, and Nasruddin knew that very soon the wedding guests would be sitting down to a sumptuous feast. He could feel time running out.

Finally, he could wait no longer. Seizing a blank piece of paper, he stuffed it in an envelope, sealed the envelope, and set off at top speed for the house where the wedding was being held.

When he arrived there, he announced that he had a very important letter for the host. Naturally, he was brought straight into the hall, to the main table, where all the guests were just beginning to eat. Nasruddin thrust the envelope into the hands of the host, seated himself at the table, and began to eat hurriedly, so as to catch up with the others.

The puzzled host looked at the envelope, and then said to Nasruddin, “Mullah, are you sure this is for me? My name is not on it – there is no writing on it at all.”

“Oh, yes, it’s for you,” Nasruddin replied, with a mouth full of food, “and there’s no writing inside either. This letter was sent in great haste.”