How half-knowledge can mislead us?

A man from the city of Kabul in Afghanistan once visited India. Walking along an Indian street, he came to a sweatmeat shop where all sorts of sweets were neatly displayed.

Now the man knew only one or two words of Hindustani. He went up to the vendor of sweets and pointed at one particular kind that looked especially delicious. The vendor thought the man was asking the name of the sweet. 

So the vendor said, “Khaja”. 

Now “Khaja” means “eat it up” in Hindustani. And “Khaja” is also a type of sweet. 

The vendor meant the type of sweet while the man from Kabul knew only the first meaning (“eat it up”). 

So the man grabbed handfuls of sweets and started gobbling them up with pleasure.

The vendor of sweets asked the man to pay for them. But the visitor didn’t understand what he was saying and happily wandered away. 

The angry vendor complained to the police, who came and arrested the man from Kabul. 

The chief officer ordered that his head should be shaven clean and covered with tar, and that he should then be mounted on a donkey and run out of town in a procession to the sound of drums.

Though this is considered brutal punishment in India, the man from Kabul thought it was fun. He even felt charmed and honored by this treatment and the attention he got in the streets.

On his return to Kabul, people asked him, “How is India?”

He answered, “Terrific! It’s a charming country, and a rich country. You get everything for nothing there. You go to a shop and point to a pile of sweets you like, and they tell you to take all you want and eat it. Then the police will come with drums and pipes, give you a shave, dye your head with hair-dye and give you a nice donkey to ride through town to the accompaniment of lovely Indian music. All for nothing! Lovely country, generous hosts, beautiful people!”