The Stone in the Handkerchief

The Stone in the Handkerchief

BY:Khan

Masood Ahmad Barkati’s tale begins with two brothers: one rich, one poor. The rich brother, Amir, scorned the poor one, Salim. They fought constantly. One winter Salim needed a horse to fetch firewood from the forest, so he asked Amir to borrow his animal for a short while. Amir relented, though grudgingly.

Salim loaded wood and, as night fell, lacking rope, tied the bundle to the horse’s tail. The horse bolted, its tail broke, and the frightened animal ran away. Salim searched until dawn and finally returned the broken-tailed horse to Amir. Amir refused to accept the damaged animal and threatened to sue. Both set off for the distant town to settle the dispute.

They stopped at a friend of Amir’s that night. Amir and his friend slept indoors. Salim found no place inside and lay on the veranda. While he slept he rolled over, fell to the ground, and tragically landed on the friend’s child who was playing below. The child died. The friend vowed vengeance and announced he would sue. Now there were three complaints against Salim.

As they walked toward the town, a bridge appeared. Overcome by fear of the looming lawsuits and punishment, Salim leapt from the bridge to escape. Below, an old man was being carried by his son. Salim landed upon the elder; he died. The son, furious, joined the others to take the matter to court. At last they reached the courthouse and the judge took his seat.

Salim had been carrying a handkerchief with a stone wrapped inside it. In the first hearing, Amir claimed the horse was ruined. Salim, to frighten the courtroom, showed the handkerchief as if it held treasure. The judge, greedy, imagined hidden gold and, eager for reward, ruled for Salim — the horse would remain with him until the tail returned.

When the friend accused Salim of killing his child, Salim again displayed the handkerchief. The judge, still dreaming of riches, accepted the show and decreed that the friend had to keep Salim at his home until Salim returned the child — an absurd order that effectively demanded the friend feed and shelter Salim indefinitely. Fearing for his life and reputation, the friend paid Salim fifty rubles, grain, and a milk cow to be rid of him.

The third case, brought by the young man whose father died at the bridge, was heard next. The judge, picturing three golden gifts, ordered a dramatic resolution: the young man should stand on the bridge and Salim should stand below; the youth should then jump so that fate itself would decide the matter. The courtroom fell silent, bewildered.

After the hearings, Amir grew impatient and begged Salim for the horse. Salim refused, insisting Amir wait for the tail to grow. Eventually, Amir paid him five rubles, seventeen sacks of grain, and a goat to get his horse back. But Salim wanted more from the others.

He demanded food and hospitality from Amir’s friend, who, terrified of the judge’s order, paid up with fifty rubles, twenty-three sacks of grain, and a cow. Then Salim approached the young man and proposed the bridge stunt. The youth feared death and instead bribed Salim with two hundred rubles, twenty-nine sacks of grain, and an ox — anything to avoid the dreadful leap.

Word reached the judge that Salim had hinted at three golden bowls hidden in the handkerchief. Curious and greedy, the judge sent an emissary to demand the treasure. With dramatic flair Salim untied the cloth and revealed the stone. “I am poor,” he said plainly. “I had no gold. I only showed this because I feared an unfair judgment and wanted to frighten you into fairness.”

When the judge learned there was no gold, he breathed a sigh of relief — embarrassed, ashamed of his greed, and grateful he had not been deceived out of a bribe. Salim, meanwhile, went home oddly content. He had arrived as the poorer, weaker brother, bullied and mistreated; he returned with payments and gifts from those who had accused him. Cleverness, a little daring, and the pinching of luck had turned the tables.

The villagers still tell the story as a lesson: greed can blind the wise, fear can make people pay to be safe, and sometimes a poor man’s boldness and a plain stone can undo injustice. And the judge? He learned, at least for a while, to hide his appetite for riches.

The story is told often, fit for telling aloud: the breaking of the horse’s tail, the handkerchief and its false treasure, and the judge’s flushed face — each moment sings when voiced. If you narrate it, slow at the turns of fate, and let listeners feel both the foolishness of greed and the surprising power of a clever heart and enduring hope.