|Once, Mullah Nasruddin bought a violin. And he began to play. |
Same note, same string, over and over.
After a few hours his wife was at her wits' end. "Nasruddin!" she screamed.
Nasruddin put down the bow. "Yes dear?"
"Why do you play the same note? It's driving me crazy! All the real violin players move their fingers up and down, play on different strings! Why don't you play like they do?"
"Well dear, I know why they go up and down and try all different strings."
"Why is that?"
"They're looking for *this* note." And he picked up his bow and resumed his playing.