Emperor Akbar stood on the balcony of the palace enjoying a cool breeze, laden with the fragrance of flowers. The fragrance lured him to go close to the flowers. He walked down the steps, running down from the balcony to the garden. Touching ground, he slowly moved along the footpath that ran across the bed of flowers. The flowers were in full bloom. Bees buzzed around, flitting from flower to flower. The rays of the sun filtered through the leaves and formed patterns on the green grass. Emperor Akbar lost his heart to the scene.
He strolled as if in a trance. He was so lost in the beauty of the flowers and the power of their fragrance that he did not notice a stone protruding on the footpath. The emperor tripped. A shooting pain hit him. At the same time, he lost his balance, stumbled, threw up his hands and made frantic efforts to avoid a fall. He succeeded in the effort. But it left him in a state of shock and anger. He sat on a bench under a canopy of creepers over a bamboo arch, and checked the toe of his right foot. It was cherry red and throbbed with pain.
The more he examined the toe, the angrier he felt. �Where are you, you wretch? Why are you not tending the garden? Where have you vanished? he screamed for the gardener. He got no answer. The gardener had gone to his hut to get garden scissors. Akbar gnashed his teeth in fury. �That man deserves death!� the emperor muttered to himself while he hurried back to the palace.
He stomped into the durbar hall and clapped. An aide rushed in. Go, get the gardener. Keep him in prison till tomorrow. Tomorrow, he dies. shouted the emperor. The aide left with a couple of soldiers and proceeded towards the gardener�s hut. He cuffed the gardener and told the protesting gardener the reason behind his arrest. Hearing that her husband would die the next day, the gardener�s wife fell at the official�s feet. �Leave my poor man alone. He has not done any harm,� she wailed. �I can�t let him off. I�m only carrying out the orders of Alampana (emperor),� said the aide. Then he added, �But you have time till tomorrow morning to save your husband. And there is only one man who can help you � Birbal�.
The woman ran to Birbal, fell at his feet, and narrated her story. Birbal took pity on the lady and instructed the aide to take him to the prison. Birbal found the gardener sitting huddled in a corner, gaping at the ceiling. He asked the aide to leave and asked the gardener to come close to him.
Listen, tomorrow, when the executioner and his assistants come, they will ask you if you have any last wish. Say that you want to meet Alampana once. They will lead you to him. Then Birbal went closer and whispered in his ears the plan he had in mind. �Do what I told you and you will be saved,� Birbal assured him. The gardener�s face fell. Birbal was asking him to do the impossible. But Birbal assured him that his plan would work.
Next day, Birbal was sharing a joke with Akbar when the aide entered, bowed, and waited. The emperor signaled him to speak. He said, Alampana, the gardener begs for an audience with you before he is executed.� �Bring him in,� ordered the emperor. The gardener dragged his chains to the durbar hall. He sank on his knees for a moment to pay obeisance. Then he stood up, and spat on the floor. �How dare you do that, you wretch?� the emperor exploded.
Alampana, you�ve sentenced me to death for a very minor lapse. The public may think that I haven�t received justice. So I decided to commit a grave crime. A man who spits in court deserves death,� the gardener replied. Akbar saw the logic in the gardener�s words. Someone must have advised the gardener to act in this manner he thought. �Who advised you to spit in court?� he asked.
The gardener looked at Birbal. The emperor said, Birbal, my friend, thank you. I now realise I had sentenced the gardener to death in haste. Let him go. He is a loyal servant.
The gardener thanked Akbar. �You owe your life to Birbal, the emperor reminded him.
The name of Chanakya, the wise prime minister of Chandragupta Maurya, is only too familiar to students of history. There is an interesting story about how he learned one of the most important lessons in war strategy from an uneducated village woman. Going back to the beginnings, Chanakya was born in a very poor family. His father, Chani, was a wise and learned man although he had no wealth. It is said that baby Chanakya had pearly white teeth. Astrologers told Chani that the boy was fated to be a king. He expected Chani to be delighted to hear this. But Chani was disturbed by the prediction and remarked that the life of a king is by no means a happy one. Most kings crave for more money and more power, and this inevitably led them to fight and often do things that are neither fair nor moral. Chani did not wish such a life for his son. So he broke the teeth of his infant son. But the astrologers merely laughed and said his action was not likely to change his son's destiny. But it wo...
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