The Sadhu

Fri February 17, 2012 by Kunal Bansal

Akbar came to the throne when he was only thirteen years old. In the years that followed, he built on of the greatest empires of his time. He lived in unimaginable splendor. He was surrounded by courtiers who agreed with every word he said, who flattered him and treated him as if he were a god. Perhaps it was not surprising that Emperor Akbar was sometimes arrogant and behaved as if the whole world belonged to him.
One day, Birbal decided to make the great emperor stop and think about life.
That evening as the emperor was going towards his palace, he noticed a Sadhu lying in the centre of his garden. He could not believe his eyes. A strange Sadhu, in ragged clothes, right in the middle of the palace garden? The guards would have to be punished for this, thought the emperor furiously as he walked over to that Sadhu and prodded him with the tip of his embroidered slipper.
'Here, fellow!' he cried. 'What are you doing here? Get up and go away at once!'
That Sadhu opened his eyes. Then he sat up slowly. 'Huzoor,' he said in a sleepy voice. 'Is this your garden, then?'
'Yes!' cried the Emperor. 'This garden those rose bushes, the fountain beyond that, the courtyard, the palace, this fort, this empire, it all belongs to me!'
Slowly that Sadhu stood up. 'And the river, Huzoor? And the city? And this country?'
'Yes, yes, it