There was a city called Sialkot, and it was in terrible trouble.
A holy man named Hamza Ghaus lived just outside it, and he had quarrelled bitterly with a man of the city called Geega over a broken promise.
And Hamza Ghaus had said a dreadful thing.
I will not stop at your children, he said. I will ruin the whole city.
Then he went into the tomb and shut the door, and told his followers not to disturb him for anything.
I will come out, he said, when the city is ruined.
That had been twenty-five days ago.
The people of Sialkot had done everything they could think of. They begged. They offered him other children in place of Geega's son. They prayed all night. His followers would not carry a message in, because the holy man had told them not to, and they were afraid of him.
So the city sat there and waited to be ruined, and could not sleep.
Then word went round that Guru Nanak Dev Ji had come, and was sitting under a berry tree by the old burial ground, and the whole frightened city went out to him.
He listened to all of it.
Then he did something quite small.
He struck a gong.
And before the second stroke had sounded there was a crack like thunder from inside the tomb, and bricks came down out of the middle of the roof, and daylight fell into that dark place for the first time in twenty-five days.
Hamza Ghaus opened his eyes.
He came out fast, frightened the roof was falling, and stood blinking in the sun. His followers told him a great holy man had arrived and asked for him.
You fools, he said. You should have brought me the message.
We were afraid of you, they said.
And now, he said, doing as I told you has brought this down on my head.
He tried to walk out to the berry tree and could not, and had to be helped by two of his followers, and when he came near enough to see Guru Ji's face the anger went out of him all at once and he sat down in the shade, hungry and shaking and calm.
But he was not finished arguing.
The whole city is wicked, he said. Every last one of them.
Every one, said Guru Ji.
Every one, said Hamza Ghaus. Test them, if you do not believe me. I have tested them, and I know.
So Guru Ji turned and called Bhai Mardana Ji, and gave him a note and two rupees.
Go into the city, he said. With one rupee buy truth. With the other buy falsehood. Tell them to weigh it out properly.
Off went Bhai Mardana Ji, who had long since stopped being surprised by anything.
He went into Sialkot and tried every shop. Half were shut, because everybody was out at the berry tree. The ones that were open read the note and looked at him. Some laughed. Some told him to go away. Some folded their hands politely and asked him to please go away.
He kept going. He had learned patience from good company.
And at the very last, one shopkeeper read the note, and thought about it, and wrote something on two scraps of paper, and handed them over. One of these is truth, he said. One is falsehood.
Bhai Mardana Ji carried them back.
Guru Ji laid them in front of Hamza Ghaus. Read those, he said.
The holy man read them out.
Death is true, they said. Life is false. Whoever understands that never forgets the Lord.
Is the man who wrote that a liar, said Guru Ji.
No, said Hamza Ghaus. He is not.
Then, said Guru Ji, if there is even one good man in that city, why would you ruin all of it.
The old man had no answer.
Let whoever did wrong carry what he has done, said Guru Ji. Why the whole city.
Then Geega should carry it, said Hamza Ghaus, ashamed.
And should a holy man be kind, said Guru Ji, or should he be angry.
Once you blessed people. That was kindness. Now you are so angry you have locked yourself in the dark and starved yourself for twenty-five days. Somebody else broke a promise, and look who you have punished.
Goodnight. A whole city was saved by one shopkeeper who bothered to answer a strange question honestly.