It was a bright summer morning in Emperor Akbar’s palace. The gardens were filled with the sweet smell of ripe mangoes. The trees in the royal orchard were heavy with fruit, and Akbar had been waiting all year for his favorite treat.
But when the emperor went for his morning walk, something unexpected happened.
“Who has stolen my mangoes?” Akbar shouted in surprise.
The servants hurried to the orchard. Several branches were empty, and mango skins lay scattered on the ground. The guards bowed nervously, afraid to look up.
“Your Majesty,” said the head gardener, trembling, “we picked the mangoes yesterday evening, but this morning, half of them are gone!”
Akbar frowned. “Gone? Are you telling me someone dared to steal from my royal garden? Find the thief at once!”
The guards searched every corner of the palace, but no one could find any clue. That afternoon, Akbar called for Birbal, his most trusted minister and the wisest man in the court.
“Birbal,” said Akbar, still upset, “someone has stolen my precious mangoes. The guards are useless! I want you to catch the thief by tomorrow morning.”
Birbal smiled calmly. “Don’t worry, Jahanpanah. We will find your thief before the next sunrise.”
That night, Birbal gathered all the servants who worked in the garden. They stood in a line, shuffling nervously.
Birbal looked at them one by one and said, “I know the thief is standing right here among you. But don’t worry, I have a simple way to find out who it is.”
He handed each servant a small stick.
“These are magic sticks,” Birbal announced. “By tomorrow morning, the stick of the thief will grow one inch longer. So keep your sticks safe and bring them to me at sunrise.”
The servants gasped. They had heard many stories of Birbal’s cleverness and didn’t dare to question him.
That night, everyone went home, but one servant couldn’t sleep. He was the real thief. He had eaten several mangoes himself and sold the rest in the market.
“Oh no,” he thought, “if Birbal’s magic stick grows longer, I’ll be caught!”
So, in his fear, he took a knife and cut one inch off his stick. “Now, even if it grows, it will look the same size!” he said to himself, feeling proud of his clever plan.
The next morning, all the servants gathered again before Birbal. He carefully measured each stick one by one.
Finally, when he reached the nervous servant, Birbal stopped and smiled.
“Ah, here is our mango thief!”
The servant’s face turned pale. “But… how do you know?”
Birbal held up the stick. “Because your stick is shorter than all the others. You were afraid it would grow, so you cut it yourself. The truth made you give yourself away.”
The servant fell to his knees and confessed everything. “Forgive me, Huzoor! I was tempted by the sweet smell of the mangoes. I couldn’t resist!”
Akbar, who had been watching silently from behind a curtain, laughed loudly. “Birbal, once again, your wisdom shines brighter than gold!”
Birbal bowed humbly. “Your Majesty, the cleverest thief is often caught not by magic, but by his own fear.”
The Lesson
Akbar forgave the servant but warned him never to steal again. The man promised to be honest and worked faithfully in the gardens for years after that.
That evening, Akbar and Birbal sat under the same mango tree, enjoying a bowl of fresh mango slices.
“Birbal,” said Akbar with a grin, “your magic stick worked wonderfully.”
Birbal chuckled. “Jahanpanah, the only magic I know is human nature. A guilty heart can never sleep in peace.”
Akbar nodded thoughtfully. “Then I shall sleep well tonight, knowing my mangoes — and my minister — are safe.”
The two friends laughed, their voices echoing through the royal garden as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Moral:
Fear makes even the cleverest thief reveal himself. Honesty and patience are always the better choices.