A Sufi saint set out on a pilgrimage to Mecca. At the outskirts of the city he lay down by the road, exhausted from his journey.
He had barely fallen asleep when he brusquely awakened by an irate pilgrim. “This is the time when all believers bow their heads towards Mecca and you have your feet pointing towards the holy shrine.
What sort of Muslim are you?”
The Sufi did not move; he merely opened his eyes and said, “Brother, would you do me the favour of placing my feet where they won’t be pointing to the Lord?”