The soup of the soup

                Stories from Nasrettin Hoca’s universe (1) 

A kinsman came to see Nasrettin from the country and brought a duck. Nasrettin was grateful, had the bird cooked and shared it with the guests. Presently another visitor arrived. “I am a friend”, he said, “of the man who gave you the duck.” Nasrettin fed him as well. This happened several times. Nasrettin’s house had become like a restaurant for out-of-town visitors. Everyone was a friend at some removes, of the original donor of the duck. Finally Nasrettin was exasperated. One day there was a knock at the door and a stranger appeared. “I am the friend of the friend of the friend of the man who brought you the duck from the country”, he said. “Come in” said Nasrettin. They seated themselves at the table and Nasrettin asked his wife to bring the soup. When the guest tasted it, it seemed to be nothing more than warm water. “What sort of soup is this?”, he said to the Mulla. “That” said Nasrettin, ” is the soup of the soup of the soup of the soup of the duck”. 

“Truth can not be transferred”- OSHO