Goha once wanted to play a trick on his stingy neighbor. He knocked on his neighbor's door and said: "I'm expecting a lot of guests today and need a big pot like the one you have. Please lend it to me."
The miser didn't want to borrow his pot under any circumstances. So he said: "Well, you know, the pot is definitely not good enough for you, better ask someone else."

But Goha didn't give up: "But no, I'm sure the pot is just right!"

The stingy neighbor could no longer refuse, he fetched the pot and Goha went home happy with it.

That evening, he invited his friends over and they cooked something delicious.

The next day, Goha went to the neighbor and brought the pot back, but he had put a smaller pot in the big one.

The neighbor wondered: "What's the small pot doing in the big one?"

"Oh, you know," said Goha, "when the big pot was with me, he had a baby. That's why the little pot is in there now."

"By Allah, that's strange," exclaimed the neighbor and happily took both pots.

After a while, Goha knocked on the miser's door again and asked for the big pot. This time the neighbor quickly fetched the pot and willingly gave it to him.

The next day, Goha brought the pot back and put another smaller pot in it.

Delighted, the neighbor saw the two pots and said, "By Allah, this is a miracle, but a good thing," and took the two pots.

A few days later, Goha knocked on the miser's door again and asked: "I'm expecting a lot of guests and need five pots from you.

The neighbor hurriedly fetched all the pots he had and put them in Goha's hand.

A day, another day, a week and a month passed without Goha returning the pots.

Then the neighbor went to Goha, knocked on the door and said: "I would like to know where my pots have gone and whether they have given birth again."

"Oh, dear neighbor, something sad has happened. Your pots have unfortunately died in childbirth."

"What!" cried the miser angrily, "that can't be, how can pots die?"

 "Yes, if pots can have children, then they can also die in childbirth."

Then the neighbor realized that Goha had played a trick on him. He slumped his shoulders and walked away in silence.

Some say he was now cured of his miserliness, but who knows?

Fassung Djamila Jaenike, nach: S. P. Jamali, Folktales from the City of the golden Domes, Beirut 1965, englische Fassung Lysander Jaenike © Mutabor Märchenstiftung