Birbal's Khichdi

It was the middle of winter, and a cold wind blew through the city of Agra. The ponds and lakes were freezing over, and people wrapped themselves in thick woollen blankets, unwilling to step out of their warm homes.

One evening, Emperor Akbar and his favorite minister, Birbal, were taking a walk along the royal lake. The Emperor shivered slightly and pulled his shawl tighter. He looked at the icy water and said, “It is so cold today! Tell me, Birbal, do you think a man would do anything for money? Would someone stand in this freezing water all night for a reward?”

Birbal thought for a moment. “Your Majesty,” he replied confidently, “hunger and poverty drive men to do difficult things. I am sure we can find someone.”

The Emperor challenged him. “If you find a man willing to stand in this frozen pond from sunset to sunrise, I will give him a bag of two thousand gold coins.”

Birbal accepted the challenge. He went into the town and found a poor Brahmin who was desperate for money to feed his family. The Brahmin agreed to the test.

That night, the poor man walked into the lake. The water was biting cold. His teeth chattered, and his body shivered uncontrollably. Steps away, guards stood watch to ensure he did not cheat. The night seemed endless. The wind howled, and the frost settled on his eyelashes. But the Brahmin did not move. He kept his eyes fixed on a faint, flickering oil lamp burning on the roof of the royal palace, a kilometer away.

When the sun finally rose, the Brahmin, blue with cold but alive, walked out of the water. He went to the court to claim his reward.

Akbar asked him in amazement, “How did you survive the night in such freezing water?”

The innocent Brahmin replied, “Your Majesty, I saw a lamp glowing on your palace roof. I kept my eyes fixed on that small light, imagining its warmth, and that gave me the hope to endure the cold.”

Akbar frowned. “So, you were warmed by the heat of my lamp!” he declared unfairly. “You have cheated! There will be no reward.”

The poor Brahmin went away, heartbroken. Birbal was very upset by the Emperor’s unfairness. He decided to teach Akbar a lesson.

The next day, Birbal did not come to court. Akbar sent a messenger to call him. The messenger returned and said, “Birbal says his khichdi (a rice and lentil dish) is cooking, and he will come only after he has eaten it.”

Hours passed. Lunchtime came and went. Still no sign of Birbal. The Emperor became impatient. “What kind of khichdi takes all day to cook?” he wondered. “I must go and see for myself.”

Akbar went to Birbal’s house. He found Birbal sitting on the ground, adding twigs to a small fire. Far, far above the fire—at least five feet high—hung a pot of khichdi suspended from a tall tripod.

Akbar laughed out loud. “Birbal! Are you mad? How can the fire cook the food when the pot is so far away? The heat will never reach it!”

Birbal looked up innocently. “Why not, Your Majesty? If a poor Brahmin can get warmth from a lamp a kilometer away, surely this khichdi can cook just five feet from the fire.”

The Emperor stopped laughing. He realized his mistake immediately. He understood that just as the small lamp could not physically warm the Brahmin, seeing the light merely gave him inner strength. He felt ashamed of his harsh judgment.

Akbar summoned the poor Brahmin back to the palace, apologized to him, and gave him the reward of two thousand gold coins.

Moral of the Story: Hope can give us strength in the darkest of times, but fairness is the duty of a true leader.