Birbal: Birbal's Khichdi

Told in English, Telugu.

Come close, and pull the blanket up to your chin. Tonight's story is about a cold, cold winter, a poor man with a brave heart, and a very strange pot of khichdi. And of course, it is about our clever friend Birbal.

Long ago, the great Emperor Akbar ruled from his palace in the north of India. In his court sat many wise men, but the wisest and the funniest of them all was Birbal.

One winter morning, the air was so cold that the emperor's breath came out like little white clouds. Akbar walked by the big lake near the palace and dipped his finger into the water. Brrr! He pulled it out at once.

"Birbal," he said, "this water is as cold as ice. I don't think any person could stand in it for a whole night."

"Jahanpanah," said Birbal gently, "people will do very hard things when they really need help."

The emperor smiled. "Then let us see. Tell the city that whoever stands in this lake from sunset to sunrise will get a bag of gold coins as a reward."

Soon the news went from street to street. Many people shook their heads. "Too cold! Too cold!" they said. But in a small hut lived a poor man named Gangaram. His children were thin, and there was hardly any rice in the house.

"With that gold," he thought, "my children will never go to bed hungry." So he went to the palace and said, "I will do it."

That evening, as the sun went down, Gangaram stepped into the lake. The water came up to his chest. Oh, it was cold! His teeth went chatter, chatter, chatter. Two guards stood on the shore to watch him all night.

The hours passed slowly. The stars came out. The wind blew. Gangaram began to shiver. But far away, high up in a window of the palace, a small lamp was burning. Gangaram fixed his eyes on that little light. "Look at the lamp," he told himself. "Think of your children. Just one more hour." And then, "Just one more."

Can you guess what happened? Yes! When the sun peeped over the trees in the morning, Gangaram was still standing in the water. He had done it!

The guards wrapped him in a warm shawl and took him to the court. The emperor was surprised. "Tell me," he asked, "how did you stay in that freezing water all night?"

Gangaram bowed. "Jahanpanah, I kept looking at a lamp shining in a window of your palace. It gave me courage."

Now, one of the courtiers, who did not like giving away gold, whispered, "Jahanpanah, he looked at a lamp. So he was warmed by the lamp. That is cheating!"

The emperor thought for a moment and nodded. "Yes," he said. "You took warmth from the palace lamp. So you cannot have the reward."

Poor Gangaram! His shoulders dropped. He had been so brave, and now he had nothing. He walked out of the court slowly, with tears in his eyes.

Birbal saw everything. He did not argue. He only stroked his beard and thought, "Hmm."

The next day, the court gathered as usual. But Birbal's seat was empty. The emperor waited. Still no Birbal. So he sent a servant to his house.

The servant came back and said, "Jahanpanah, Birbal says he is cooking khichdi. He will come as soon as it is ready."

An hour passed. Then two. Then it was afternoon. Still no Birbal! At last, the emperor said, "Come, let us go and see this khichdi for ourselves."

When they reached Birbal's house, what do you think they saw? There was a tiny fire on the ground, just a few little sticks. And way, way up high, hanging from the branch of a tall tree, was a pot of rice and dal, swinging gently in the breeze. Birbal sat below, calmly waiting.

The emperor burst out laughing. "Birbal! Have you gone silly? How can the khichdi cook when the pot is so far away from the fire? It will never get hot!"

Birbal stood up and bowed. "Jahanpanah, if a poor man standing in a lake can get warm from a lamp far away in the palace, then surely my khichdi can get hot from this little fire."

For a moment, everyone was quiet. Then the emperor's face changed. He understood. A lamp so far away could not warm anyone, just as this tiny fire could not cook a pot hanging high in a tree.

"Birbal," he said softly, "you are right. I was not fair to that brave man."

The emperor sent for Gangaram at once. In front of the whole court, he gave him the bag of gold coins, and some extra too, to say sorry. Gangaram's eyes filled with happy tears this time. He ran home, and that very night his children ate a big, warm meal.

And Birbal? Well, he took the pot down, put it right on the fire, and soon the whole street could smell his delicious khichdi. He even shared a plate with the emperor!

So remember, little one, being fair is very important, even for a king. And sometimes, a funny idea can help someone see what is right. Now close your eyes, and maybe you will dream of a warm bowl of khichdi. Good night.