In a time long ago, in the city of Baghdad, during the reign of the powerful Caliph Harun Al-Rashid and with his wise vizier Ja’afar Al-Barmakiyi by his side, a peculiar incident unfolded. The Caliph summoned his vizier and the chief of his palace guards, Masruru, under the cover of darkness, with a mysterious plan in mind.
The Caliph revealed his intentions, saying, “Tonight, we shall disguise ourselves and venture into the city, mingling with the common people. We aim to hear their unfiltered opinions about our rule and assess their grievances. If we encounter someone who raises concerns, we shall address them.”
Ja’afar and Masruru consented, and together, they embarked on their covert journey. The trio entered the city through one of its gates and strolled through the streets, taking in the scenes of everyday life. As they proceeded, they encountered an elderly man, advanced in years, engaged in a peculiar activity — he was fishing, accompanied by the gentle strumming of a lute and heartfelt songs.
Amidst the melodies of the old man’s song, the Caliph and his companions overheard poignant lyrics, “Whenever someone complains, they humiliate him, even if he is just. The soul of a poor person, lying in the grave, may find solace.”
The Caliph, perturbed by these words, observed Ja’afar and remarked, “This old man seems burdened by his thoughts. Have you heard his song? There is a weight in his heart.”
Approaching the old man, the Caliph inquired, “Good sir, what is your occupation?”
The elderly fisherman responded, “My master, allow me to share my livelihood with you. I am a humble man, and today, I left my home at noon to fish by the river. Yet, as the day drew to a close, God did not grant me any catch to feed myself and my family. This misfortune has left me in a state of despair.”
The Caliph compassionately said, “Would you be willing to accompany us to the Dujillati River, cast your fishing net once more, and whatever you capture, I shall buy it from you for a hundred dinars? This way, you will have sustenance for your family.”
Delighted by this generous offer, the old man agreed, exclaiming, “I accept, my lord!”
The group proceeded to the Dujillati River, where the fisherman cast his net into the waters. To their astonishment, when he pulled it out, the net contained a large, heavy box. The Caliph was bewildered, for he had promised to buy the fish, not this unexpected discovery. Observing the fisherman’s emaciated form, he still honored his word, giving the man a hundred dinars before departing with the enigmatic box.
Masruru and Ja’afar, bearing the mysterious container, returned to the Caliph’s palace. They placed the box before him and sought his guidance. The Caliph unlocked the box using his key and discovered a veiled dome beneath it, which was concealed by a layer of crimson hair. Removing the veil, they uncovered an ornate bed, and beneath it, a girl lay, her beauty resembling that of molten silver. Tragically, she appeared lifeless, her body marred by dismemberment.
Upon witnessing this gruesome sight, the Caliph was overcome with anguish and tears welled in his eyes, streaming down his cheeks. In his fervor, he turned to Ja’afar and erupted in anger, a fury he had never exhibited before. He declared, “O vile vizier, by God, you deserve nothing less than death for presenting me with a girl who was murdered, her body placed in a box, and cast into the river during my rule. Do you wish to besmirch my reputation with such a heinous crime? By Allah, I will investigate this case and ensure that justice is served. Whoever is responsible for this girl’s death will face retribution, even if it means your own life. By the honor of the Caliphs from the Banu Abbas, if you do not identify the girl’s murderer, I shall hold you responsible and exact punishment. You and forty of your brethren!”
Ja’afar, gripped by dread and guilt, pleaded with the Caliph, saying, “Give me three days, Sultan of Islam!”
The Caliph granted his request, and Ja’afar departed, carrying the heavy weight of his apprehension. With a heavy heart, he questioned how he could identify the girl’s killer, while also safeguarding an innocent life from unjust punishment.
Ja’afar remained in solitude, wrestling with his dilemma for three days. On the fourth day, a messenger from the Caliph sought his presence. When he stood before the Caliph, he was asked, “Have you discovered the identity of the girl’s murderer?”
Ja’afar responded with a heavy heart, “Sultan of Islam, I swear, I know neither the secret behind this crime nor the one responsible for the girl’s tragic fate.”