The Tale of The Dead Parrot  

One fine morning, Akbar’s favored servant arrived at Birbal’s doorstep. He was very worried and nearly in tears.

“What’s the matter, Ali?” Birbal enquired.

“Sir, my life is in danger. Only you can help me out,” Ali replied.

“I will do my best. But first, tell me what’s wrong?”

“Sir, a few months ago, a fakir had given a parrot to His Majesty. He had handed me that parrot and asked me to take good care of it. He ordered that anyone who would bring the news of its death would be sentenced to death. Sir, in spite of the best care and attention, I found the parrot lying dead in the cage this morning. Now I fear for my life.”

“Is that all? Don’t fear for it. You go home and leave it to me. I’ll give this news to His Majesty and still have your life spared.”

Ali went home reassured. Birbal went to Akbar’s court and said, “Your Majesty, the parrot gifted to you by the fakir is a holy spirit indeed. I went to see it this morning and found it deep in meditation. He lay on his back, facing skywards with closed eyes.”

“Is that so? You must be joking.

So King Akbar, Birbal, and some courtiers went to Ali’s house.

“Birbal, truly you are an intelligent man of wit. But there are times when one must stay within limits. I can see that the parrot is dead. Do you think that I am a fool? Don’t pretend that you knew nothing about this.”

“Your Majesty…I knew about it but I merely acted this way to save my life.”

Akbar then remembered his words when he had asked Ali to look after the parrot.

He called Ali and then addressed Birbal, “Birbal, you have once again saved a life by your wit. Now I know why you did this.”

Thus, Ali was forgiven and Birbal was thanked profusely by him.