Once upon a time, there was a khan. One day, he deeply pondered his life and, finding no answers to his thoughts, decided to consult the people. He saddled his horse and rode out to the market square. The people gathered. The khan said:
— My father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and his father and grandfather all sat on the khan's throne before me. You know many stories about them from your parents. Tales of their rule have been passed down from generation to generation.
Tell me, were there any bad rulers among them? Or perhaps there were some good ones? And what about me? I want to know the truth. I swear by the throne, whoever tells the truth, no matter how harsh, will be rewarded.
The people were silent, their heads bowed, and they cautiously exchanged glances. Then the khan repeated his request and swore the most terrible oath that he would not harm anyone who spoke the truth. Then, from the crowd, an elderly man of ninety stepped forward and, looking the khan in the eyes, said:
— Curse your ancestors! None of them can be called a worthy ruler. They were only called khans, but in their own homes, they quarreled with their children and household members over a piece of meat. I have seen your ancestors with my own eyes, and the last three were even worse. As for you, to be honest, there has never been anyone worse than you in your lineage. You sit under the heel of your wife and are afraid to move without her permission. And how your people live — you don’t care. You can’t help the poor, you don’t mourn the dead, you don’t settle disputes — you’re only concerned about yourself, seeking only fun for yourself. So, you know neither your people nor your khanate. Now tell me, what kind of khan are you?
The crowd murmured, the market stirred, agreeing with the old man, saying he spoke rightly, justly. The khan turned red, embarrassed, and completely flustered by such words. Then he said with difficulty:
— So what do you want from me? What must I do to be a worthy khan?
Then a shabby old man in a tattered chapan stood before the khan and delivered this speech:
— My lord, look at me, it’s hard to find a more wretched person. Here, — he opened the folds of his chapan, showing that he had no shirt on, — in winter and summer, I wear this only chapan. Is that good? My wife and I had only one son, and he died three years ago. My daughter-in-law went to her relatives. We have no livestock or any worthwhile household. I set traps for partridges, and that’s what we live on. Sometimes, the nets catch nothing — then we starve. We barely make ends meet, and then your horsemen come and demand tribute and taxes.
Surely your treasury is overflowing with the people's wealth. I tell you this because everyone sees and knows that you take everyone’s wealth into your treasury, but no one has ever seen or heard that your treasury has opened even once... —
The old man looked at the people, who murmured approvingly, supporting him, and, encouraged, continued: — Well, if your conscience torments you, here is my advice. Open the gates of your treasury: feed the hungry, clothe the naked, let there be no one in need in your khanate!
The people waited in silence for the khan's response. And he, as if defeated by the just words, said, raising his hand as a sign of the truth of his words:
— I promise, starting from the next market day, to open my treasury! And from now on, it will be every week. Seven doors of my treasury will be open for the poor and needy. Whoever needs gold can enter one door, whoever needs clothing can enter another. But whoever enters one door should not enter another. That is my agreement. And it will be so from now on and forever! Know, people, my generosity!
Having said this, the khan returned home. The poor were glad that they would finally receive help; but, of course, there were skeptics who said, let’s wait and see. But when the khan summoned craftsmen and builders and ordered them to build a new treasury in the market square with seven doors, and then moved all his gold and silver, clothing, and other various goods there — even the skeptics believed the khan's word.
And so, on market day, the khan's treasury opened for the first time. A vast crowd gathered. Seven long lines formed early in the morning; until sunset, people kept coming, and each took whatever they wanted. Only late at night did the line finally thin out, and the khan, seeing this, shook his head and thought: “If this continues, soon there will be nothing left in my treasury!”
And, thinking this, he ordered:
— Let only those who truly need help, who need to raise their household, use the treasury!
After this, the line began to decrease from week to week, and the satisfied khan ordered a platform to be built in the market square near the treasury, covered with carpets, so he could sit there, drink tea, and enjoy his generosity.
And one day, the khan was sitting, drinking tea, and saw an elderly man enter one of the treasury doors, take as much gold as he needed, then enter the second door and take the same amount of money, then the third — in short, he visited each of the seven rooms and took everything he needed.
The khan was astonished by such insatiability, was outraged, and sent a horseman to bring this man for an explanation.
— How greedy you are, — said the khan to him. — I see you are indeed very poor. Your chapan is torn to shreds, you don’t even have an undergarment, you are thin from hunger, and you look quite shabby, but is that a reason to lose all measure? At this rate, even the stones in the mountains won’t be enough for you. Have some conscience!
— Have you fallen ill, my khan? — replied the old man. — You yourself started all this to show your generosity! And what kind of generosity is it if a needy person can only enter one door and take just one gold ruble? Isn’t that your order?
— Yes, — agreed the khan. — And that is, indeed, not little!
— Oh, my khan, one gold ruble is not enough even to buy myself a new chapan, let alone a shirt, boots, and other things. I will spend this gold immediately, for everyone knows that small amounts of money do not stay in one’s hands. That’s why I entered seven doors and took only seven rubles. But to you, with your greedy eyes, it seemed that I gathered a lot!
But even this does not please you, so I return your wealth!
And, throwing the gold at the khan’s feet, the old man went on his way. The khan was speechless from astonishment, and when he came to his senses, he ordered to immediately catch up with the old man.
— Why are you so sensitive? — reproached the khan. — You leave without hearing my answer, and in general?
— And what’s the use? — asked the old man. — If you want, I will tell you the whole truth?
— I beg you, — said the khan.
— So here it is, — began the old man. — Know that justice has no bottom, and generosity is infinite. Compared to true generosity, your generosity is less than a pinky. There is a vast sea in the world. On the other shore lives a king with his only daughter. He rules the kingdom for thirty days, and then his daughter rules for thirty days. And if you come and say that you have traveled such a long way, overcoming all hardships and difficulties, they will give you not just gold — they will give you their heads. That is true generosity. But here you are giving out one coin and rejoicing in yourself. No, I will take nothing from you. I am content with my tattered coat and a rope for a belt.
Be well, khan! — and the old man left without looking back.
And the khan thought deeply about his words and did not notice how evening fell. Coming to his senses, he ordered to close the treasury and stop the distribution of money. He returned home and entrusted all the affairs of the khanate to his vizier, and in the morning, preparing himself, he set out in search of the Sea in the Middle of the Earth.
Kyrgyz Tales