In the old days there lived a wealthy Sheik about the caravan route. He had many moorids (novices), who took over his teaching and worked for him.
There was a time when he had not been so rich, but his house stood beside the sepulchre of the Holy Sheikh and he served as a guardian of his resting place. A lot of faithful people from the nearest and distant lands undertook a pilgrimage to this sepulchre, to pay homage to the ashes of the Holy Sheikh. All of them used to carry offerings to the guardian. The fame of that sepulchre was spread further and further across the world. More and more pilgrims visited the holy place. After a while, a mausoleum was built there, and the wealth of the watchman, guarding the mausoleum, grew day by day.
Over time, the guardian got disciples and followers and began calling himself Sheikh. His moorids worked for him all day long - they grazed his cattle, cultivated his fields, transported his goods on mules and camels. There was one moorid, Hasan, who was the most loyal and faithful disciple of the Sheikh. He worked only for the Sheikh, and he had almost no time left for his family. But once he had worked all day for himself. When he came to the Sheikh the next morning, his teacher said:
"You have not been at work yesterday! You forgot about the Holy Sheikh, buried here! You forgot about Allah! You are no longer my follower! Here is a donkey - this is a payment for all your labour. Get out wherever you want. I don't want to ever see you again!"
Hasan was horrified, having heard such cruel words from his beloved Sheikh. It was hard to part with him and even harder to leave his own family. But he could not change anything, so he straddled on his donkey and took the road to distant lands. He was going in the wide world and thought that life was worth nothing without his righteous Sheikh.
"I would rather die!" - he sighed.
One afternoon there was such a terrible heat in the desert, that the road became empty. All living creatures hid in the shades, and only Hasan, hungry and tired, was trudging along the caravan route.
"Anyway, I have to die," - he thought.
But Hasan did not die - the hungry, exhausted donkey died there!
"This is the curse of Allah," - thought the man. -"For my infidelity the Almighty sent down death on the poor beast."
Hasan dragged the dead donkey to the side of the road and then buried him in the shadow of a stunted tree. Nobody saw him at that time.
"What should I do now?" - he thought. - "I have nowhere to hurry and have nobody to ride!"
He sat on a stone beside the grave and gave vent to his grief in a flood of tears. From the searing heat and fatigue, he bowed to the ground and fell asleep, without noticing it. When he woke up, it was already evening. By that time the heat subsided, and some merchants appeared on the road. They saw a man and deviated from the route to make a halt. They came to Hasan, while he knelt down at the tomb to say the evening prayer. The strangers greeted him and began to pray about the fresh grave. When the prayer was finished, one merchant asked:
"Who is this unfortunate man? Who died in this wilderness, away from human habitation?"
Hasan could not say that his donkey was buried there. First of all, he could not pronounce the word `donkey' (ass) in front of the people, who were travelling on business. It's a bad omen. And secondly, Hasan was ashamed to admit that he grieved over the grave of a donkey. Merchants would have laughed at him. So he said:
"Here is buried a venerable Sheikh! He died on this very spot. He died in my arms, and I was his faithful moorid."
"Oh, my God!" - said one merchant to his companions. - "Look at this true believer! He is a devotee of his teacher. Take a look at how he grieves over his Sheikh! It is necessary to build a mausoleum at this point, to let everyone know that the Grand Sheikh found his resting place in this grave."
The merchants were truly moved by these words, and all of them began to lavish gifts on construction of the mausoleum. Hasan received a lot of money and goods. The travellers stopped there for the night and invited Hasan to share their meal. The same merchant said then:
"We will tell everywhere, wherever we would stop, that the Grand Sheikh was buried in this area, and his faithful moorid is a guardian of his tomb!"
While it was dawning, the merchants got up and pulled away, having made a morning prayer. Everywhere they were telling the passers-by that the Grand Sheikh had died recently; that he was buried next to the caravan route; so the true believers should build a worthy mausoleum at that place. This news quickly spread through the whole district. People from the nearest villages began walking to the tomb to pay homage to ashes of the Grand Sheikh and to look at his faithful moorid.
"Look, the faithful," - people were saying to each other. - "Here is an example of true faith and true devotion to the Master!"
And more and more offerings they carried to the Grand Sheikh. In a short time, a majestic mausoleum was built over the tomb of the Sheikh, and the house of his faithful moorid stood next to that building. After a while, Hasan felt happy as a man possessing wealth that increased day by day. Finally he himself became a Sheikh and gathered many followers around him. They started to work for him. The folks began calling that place, "The Mausoleum of the Grand Sheikh". The fame of the "Mausoleum" had spread throughout the country, and people kept coming to visit the venerated tomb...
Some time later, the rumour of that sepulchre came to the place, where lived the former Master of Hasan. And one day this Sheikh, who once drove out his poor moorid, decided to worship the ashes of the Grand Sheikh. He came to the holy place and brought rich gifts for the Grand Sheikh. On the third day, the keeper of the sacred tomb, Hasan, received him. Although many years had passed since their last meeting, they immediately recognized each other. The Sheikh, who came to worship, said:
"Dear, I remember that day, when I kicked you out and you went away on a donkey. I thought that you have already died. Tell me, please, how could you manage to get rich and how could you win such a fame? What Sheikh was buried here? Who was he and where had he come from?"
"Father, you were my adorable Sheikh and I was devoted to you with all my heart!" - replied Hasan. - "So I'll tell you the only truth... No, I didn't die at that time. After a long journey through the endless, deserted road, my donkey died. I buried him near the road. I was forced to claim his grave as a tomb of my teacher, Sheikh. People donated money and goods in the name of the venerable Sheikh. A mausoleum was erected then over his grave, and it has ever since been a place of pilgrimage from all the country round. I got rich, became a Sheikh myself, and the buried donkey became the Grand Sheikh. More and more people were coming here to worship the ashes of the Grand Sheikh, and my wealth was growing day by day. I collected enough from my guests and disciples to enable me to pass the rest of my life in comfort... Forgive me, father!"
The visitor did not seem surprised and replied:
"You should not ask for forgiveness, my faithful friend! Better listen to the secret that I have to reveal. Would you happen to know the Holy Sheikh that captured the souls of my pupils and followers, including your innocent soul? Could you tell me, who was buried under the roof of that mausoleum, which stands next to my house? There was buried the mother of your donkey!"
![The Tale of the Grand Sheikh [Славянский Владимир Владимирович]](/img/s/slawjanskij_wladimir_wladimirowich/thetaleofthegrandsheikh/thetaleofthegrandsheikh.jpg)