The Sweetest Sound

Emperor Akbar’s court was famous for its philosophical debates. One day, the Emperor arrived with a thoughtful look in his eyes. He sat on his jeweled throne and looked at his nine gems—his wisest ministers. “I have a question for you all,” said Akbar. “It has been troubling me. Tell me, what is the sweetest sound in the world?”

The court buzzed with whispers. One minister stood up. “Your Majesty, surely it is the sound of a Flute. When a master musician plays the flute in the moonlight, it calms the soul.” “No, no,” said another minister. “The sweetest sound is the Koyal (Cuckoo) bird singing in the spring. It is the voice of nature itself.” A wealthy merchant in the court spoke up. “With respect, Your Majesty, the sweetest sound is the clinking of gold coins falling into a treasure chest. That sound brings security and happiness!” Everyone laughed, but some nodded. Others suggested the sound of rain, the sound of the ocean, or the chanting of prayers.

Akbar listened to everyone. Then he turned to his favorite minister. “Birbal, you are silent. Do you not have an answer?” Birbal bowed. “I do, Your Majesty. But words are not enough to explain it. I will demonstrate the answer to you tomorrow. Please come to a special banquet.”

The next evening, the court gathered in a grand hall. Birbal had arranged a magnificent feast. The room was decorated with flowers. He had hired the best musicians in the kingdom. The Sitar players strummed beautiful melodies. The Tabla players beat soft rhythms. It was truly lovely music. The courtiers nodded their heads in appreciation. “Ah, this music is indeed sweet,” they thought.

Suddenly—CRASH! A young servant boy, carrying a large silver tray of glasses, tripped on the carpet. The tray hit the marble floor with a terrible, jarring noise. CLANG! SMASH! TINKLE! The music stopped abruptly. The courtiers jumped in their seats. Emperor Akbar frowned. “How clumsy!” he muttered. The silence in the room was tense and angry. The poor servant boy looked terrified.

But then, from a corner of the room, a tiny sound broke the silence. giggle… hee hee… HA HA HA! It was the servant’s little baby son, who was sitting on a mat nearby. The baby found the loud crash incredibly funny. He clapped his chubby hands and laughed with pure, uncontrollable joy. His laughter bubbled up like a fountain. It was free, innocent, and completely honest. Hee hee hee!

Hearing the baby, the Emperor’s frown vanished. A smile spread across his face. Then he started to chuckle. The other ministers started smiling too. Soon, the whole court was laughing—not at the servant, but with the baby. The tension melted away into warmth.

Birbal stepped forward. “Your Majesty,” he said softly. “The music was beautiful, but a single crash ruined it. But see how this child’s laughter washed away the anger? It brought joy to everyone’s heart in an instant. It asks for nothing and gives everything.” Akbar nodded, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. “You are right, Birbal. The music pleases the ear, but the laughter of a child pleases the soul. That is truly the sweetest sound in the world.”

Moral of the Story: Innocence is the purest form of joy. True happiness comes from simple things.