The royal court of Akbar was unusually crowded that day.
A famous scholar had arrived from a distant land.
He walked proudly into the court,
his chin lifted high.
“I have studied every great book,”
the scholar announced loudly.
“There is nothing left for me to learn.”
The courtiers whispered.
Some nodded.
Some smiled nervously.
The scholar continued speaking—
and speaking—
and speaking.
He explained philosophy.
He quoted scriptures.
He praised his own intelligence.
For hours.
At the corner of the court stood Birbal,
listening quietly.
The scholar finally noticed him.
“And who is this silent man?”
he asked mockingly.
“Does he lack knowledge?”
The court laughed softly.
The scholar turned to the emperor.
“Your Majesty,” he said,
“allow me to test this man’s wisdom.”
Akbar smiled calmly.
“Very well,” he said.
The scholar faced Birbal.
“I will ask questions,” he declared.
“You may answer—if you can.”
Birbal nodded gently.
The scholar asked a long question.
Birbal stayed silent.
Another question followed.
Birbal smiled—still silent.
The scholar grew louder.
“Is silence your answer?”
he mocked.
Birbal slowly stepped forward.
He picked up an empty cup
from a nearby table
and placed it in front of the scholar.
Then he poured water into it.
The cup overflowed.
Water spilled onto the floor.
Birbal finally spoke.
“Just like this cup,” he said softly,
“your mind is already full.”
The court fell silent.
Birbal continued,
“When a cup is full,
nothing more can be added.
When the mind is full of pride,
wisdom cannot enter.”
The scholar froze.
Akbar smiled.
“You spoke all day,” the emperor said,
“yet learned nothing.
Birbal spoke once—
and taught everyone.”
The scholar lowered his head.
That day,
he learned that silence
is sometimes the greatest answer.
🌟 MORAL OF THE STORY
True wisdom listens more than it speaks.
Pride makes noise;
intelligence stays calm.
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