Long ago there lived a rich and fearsome Khan. He ruled his land with a heavy hand and punished anyone who dared to stand against him. In the same country, however, there was one man everyone respected – a witty, wise fellow named Kozhanasyr. His sharp tongue and clever answers could make people laugh and think at the same time. Even the Khan and his ministers were a little afraid of him, because they knew that one joke from Kozhanasyr could turn any of them into a laughing-stock.
One day, while talking with his advisers, the Khan frowned and said, “I hear that this Kozhanasyr makes everyone laugh and even jokes about me. I must show the people that I am wise and just. Bring him to my palace. I will test him in front of everyone.” The order was given, and soon Kozhanasyr was led into the golden hall, standing calmly before the throne.
“Listen, Kozhanasyr,” the Khan began. “People say you consider yourself smart and clever. Very well. Here is my condition: answer my three questions in front of this crowd. If you fail, you will be punished.” The hall grew silent. Kozhanasyr, still smiling, bowed and replied, “My Khan, I cannot refuse a question. I only ask one thing: let my answers be not just for you, but for the people who came here to seek wisdom.” The Khan did not like this reply, but the crowd murmured with interest.
“Very well,” the Khan said. “Everyone will listen. My first question is this: How many stars are there in the sky?” Kozhanasyr rubbed his beard for a moment and answered, “My Khan, it is hard to say the exact number of stars. But if you count every beetle in the thick swarm behind your palace, you will know – the number of stars is about the same.” The Khan stared at him. “How would I ever know how many beetles there are?” he cried. “Who could count them?” Kozhanasyr shrugged. “If the beetles cannot be counted,” he said gently, “how will you count the stars?” The people burst into laughter, and even the Khan’s lips moved in a reluctant smile.
“Very well,” the Khan admitted. “You have passed the first question. Here is the second: Where is the exact centre of the world?” Kozhanasyr took the staff he carried, stuck it firmly into the ground in front of him and said, “Right here, where my staff stands, is the centre of the world.” “Why this spot?” the Khan demanded angrily. Kozhanasyr answered calmly, “If you do not believe me, my Khan, you may measure the world and check.” The people roared with laughter again, and the Khan’s anger melted away in the noise.
“Fine,” the Khan said at last, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “You have passed the second question too. Now for the last one: How old am I? Let us see if you can guess that.” Kozhanasyr looked closely at the ruler’s face – at his eyes, his hair, the way he held himself – and thought for a moment. Then he said, “My Khan, let us imagine that wisdom is a number of ten. Your wisdom, I see, is ten. Your behaviour and habits are almost as many – nine. A truly wise person’s mind becomes full around the age of forty. So your age must be somewhere between forty and fifty. More exactly, you are forty-nine.”
The Khan was astonished. “How did you know?” he asked. Kozhanasyr replied, “A wise person never runs out of sense, and a foolish person never truly fills up. You tested me with questions, which means you do have wisdom. And a wise ruler does not torment his people for nothing.” The crowd cheered with delight. The Khan listened, then slowly nodded.
“Well done, Kozhanasyr!” he declared. “Your wit and wisdom should be an example to others. From this day on, no one is allowed to harm you. Speak freely, and let your sharp tongue remind us of the truth.” From then on Kozhanasyr became even more respected. Whenever someone tried to argue with him, he answered with such a clever remark that they were left smiling and silent, and the people remembered his words for a long time.