It’s me

Often, language is silly. Revealing this makes people think. Well, some of the people. This reminds me of a story:

The gates of Samarkand were closed for the night when a busy traveller demanded entry.

“No strangers are admitted after sunset!” shouted the guard.

“I am no stranger! I am Nasreddin the Hodja, advisor to Emir Timur!”

The gate opened. An incredulous and menacing soldiery emerged.

“Can you identify yourself?”

Hodja extracted a small mirror from his bag, looked into it and replied,

“Yes, it’s me.”

The guards looked at each-other and agreed,

“Yes. It can only be him.”