One Friday Hodja broke wind by accident in the mosque. It was a clear sound in the middle of the silence, but according to the social rules, the congregation behaved as if nothing had happened. They kept quite and continued to perform the ritual as usual. This mistake made such a painful impression on Hodja and he left the village, immediately. Hodja packed his personal things and rode his donkey away in the middle of the night, without saying goodbye to relatives or friends.
After 12 years,thinking the congregation had probably forgotten his tragic acciden, Hodja moved back to his home village. On his way home Hodja met a boy from his village, a wonderful opportunity to learn. “How old are you, my boy?” Hodja smiled.
“I don’t know exactly,” replied the boy, but I know that I was born the same year Hodja broke wind in the mosque.