The Tale of Luqman's Advice

Luqman’s Advice to his Son

It was related that when Luqman was giving up the ghost, he called in his son to give him his last piece of advice. He said, “My son. Never sow or plant in valleys’ beds. Never make any relationship by marriage with a Bedouin. Never divulge a secret before your spouse. And never raise a foundling”.

After his father’s decease, the son had thought to himself: “Why shouldn’t I try my father’s advice and wisdom?” He married a girl from his village. She was faithful, trusting, and well-mannered. And she respected him, obeyed him and loved him. He also trusted her, and consulted her on many things, and her opinions were right, but he had never put to test her ability to keep a secret.

One day, he came across a foundling in the village, and adopted him. He brought him up very well until he attained puberty. Afterwards he found a job for him as a policeman for the Wali. The foundling was well-behaved, polite, bona fide, and respectable.

Luqman’s son had male and female children who were nubile at that time. He married his two daughters to a Bedouin and a Towner.

Luqman’s son had noticed that his wife could keep a secret, but he was not sure of this. He tried the foundling. The latter tested well and proved to be well-bred, but was not like his sons His nomadic son-in-law was also refined with him. He remembered that he had not planted or sown in a valley bed, so he sowed the valley bed with wheat. Shortly before harvest commenced, it had rained hard for days, and floods ensued. The valley inundated with water that swept away all the wheat. He lost all his travails and all at what he had expended, as well.

There was still one piece of his father’s advice that he had not yet tried. It was the test of his wife’s ability in keeping significant secrets. He was initially certain that she would keep any secret whatsoever. One night, he stole a ram from the Wali’s cattle pen, and brought it home. He told his wife of what he did, and requested her not to divulge it to anyone, and she gave her word. He butchered it, stripped off its skin and chopped it, and buried all the parts unfit for human consumption in the backyard.

News went around that the Wali’s ram was stolen. The Wali’s guards and watchmen set out looking for the thief, and asking people if they knew anything about him everywhere in the village, and the Wali also dispersed spies everywhere in the hope that they could find out the thief, but they discovered nothing; they could not even come across the slightest shade that might lead them to him.

His wife kept the secret just for one day, and when she gathered together with the neighbouring women, gossiping about their household cares, she shifted the chat to food, and said, “O God! How delicious was the meat of that ram!”

The women enquired, “Whose ram was it?”

“Don’t raise your voices lest someone might hear you,” the wife said in a low voice.

“What? What’s your problem?” the women asked her, surprised.

“Haven’t you heard that the Wali’s ram was stolen?” the wife replied.

“Yes, we have. We heard about this,” the women said.

“It was my husband, who stole it but please don’t tell anyone of this,” said the wife.

Soon the news reached the Wali’s palace. As soon as the Wali heard of this, he sent one of his cops to arrest Luqman’s and bring him to the Wali. The Wali didn’t send Luqman’s son’s foundling for fear that the latter would not dare fetch his adoptive father to the Wali.

The guard came to Luqman’s son’s house. Luqman’s son understood thoroughly why the guard came, so he welcomed him in warmly, and offered him food, soft drink and coffee. The cop felt ashamed of what he was coming to do, so he thanked Luqman’s son for his hospitality and left.

He told the Wali that he did not find him at home. The Wali sent his cops one by one but the foundling for the same purpose, and it was the same story. They all told him the same thing that they did not find him. The Wali was not enthusiastic about charging the foundling of Luqman’s son with the task.

The Wali gathered together his cops and said to them, “All of you went to Luqman’s son’s house, and none of found him, as you said. Now who is brave enough to look for him and bring him here?”

The foundling, after placing his hand on his chest as a gesture of readiness, immediately said, “I know where he is, and I can bring him here by force.”

The Wali dispatched the foundling who without delay went there, knocked on the door, and Luqman’s son opened it. He cordially welcomed him. “My son, please enter,” said Luqman’s son affectionately.

“No, I haven’t come to see you or to have food and coffee. I’ve come to apprehend you and take you to the Wali,” the foundling austerely said.

“Take it easy, son. Let’s eat, drink coffee, and then we go together to the Wali,” said his adoptive father.

“No, I haven’t come here to eat and drink coffee.

I’ve come to seize you and take you to the Wali. Let’s go,” the foundling said unsympathetically.

Then he harshly dragged his adoptive father to the Wali, and said, “That’s him. He’s before you.”

“We have heard that you stole a ram from my cattle corral! Is it true? We also heard that your wife ate from it. That’s what she told the other women! What do you say?” the Wali said in exclamation.

“It’s true. My wife and sons don’t lie, and I’m ready for whatever you ask,” replied Luqman’s son.

“I’ll respect you for the sake of your wise father, Luqman, and I’ll not put you behind bars, but I’ll impose a fine on you,” said the Wali.

“Fine? How much would it be?” Luqman’s son asked.

“The Wali’s ram cannot be exchanged for money or gold. I want forty she-camels for it, and you have only a month to fetch them her, and if you don’t bring them in a month, you’ll be sent to jail, and no one can release you from custody either on bail or upon medication, and I mean it. You can go now,” said the Wali.

Luqman’s son went to his nomadic son-in-law and informed him of his problem. The nomadic son-in-law promised him that he would bring him as many she-camels as he could. Then he went to his city-bred son-in-law and told him, too. The latter assured him that he would do his best to help him, and bring him as many she-camels as he could.

The month glided by, and Luqman’s son went alone to the Wali. There he found his nomadic son-in-law with a scurfy gaunt camel, and his city-bred son-in-law with forty she-camels of pure origin and an amount of money. Luqman’s son approached the Wali, and said, “Sir, would you allow me to tell the story of the ram?”

“Tell us! We’ll listen to you,” said the Wali.

Luqman’s son commenced to relate his story, “My father, upon whom God’s mercy descend, gave me a piece of advice. He said, ‘My son. Never sow or plant in valleys’ beds. Never make any relationship by marriage with a Bedouin. Never divulge a secret before your spouse. And never raise a foundling.’ I ploughed and fertilized the valley’s bed, sowed wheat in it, and the wheat grew very well, then I thought to myse1f that my father’s piece of advice proved wrong. But as summer came, and it was harvest time, it poured down for days, and the valley flooded and everything was swept away.

I brought up that foundling, who is one of you, cops now. You sent all your cops one by one to hold and bring me to you, but when I welcomed them and offered them food and coffee, they couldn’t bring me to jail just because they had eaten in my house, and left without saying a word except their expression of thanks and appreciation. But when you sent the foundling to bring me to you, he refused to enter the house where he was raised and held me by my shoulder and dragged me to your office. I married my two daughters to a Bedouin and a Towner. Look! At the time of adversity the Bedouin brought a scurvy bony camel, while the Towner, God raise his standing high, as he stood by me, and honoured me. To put my wife to test, I stole your ram at night, and entrusted it to a close friend of mine and bought another one, brought it home, slaughtered it, buried the uneatable parts in the backyard, and my wife herself cooked it and she and I ate it. I warned her not tell anybody of it. In the morning she told all her neighbouring women of what I had done, and the news circulated.

This is my story, Sir, and I was just testing my father’s piece of advice. I ask you to forgive me, and your ram is available, and anything you ask me to do is an order.”

Since then Luqman’s advice to his son has become a current Omani proverb:

“Never sow or plant in valleys’ beds. Never make any relationship by marriage With a Bedouin. Never divulge a secret before your spouse. And never raise a foundling."

Reference:

Tales from Oman, translated by D. Abdulsalam Ali Hamad, pg: 30-37.