His courtiers’ jealousy of Birbal had become so routine that Akbar invariably chose to ignore their grumbling and complaints. One day, when word reached him about a smarmy courtier’s attempt to make a joke of the emperor’s confidence in a country bumpkin who lived by his wits and was not half as clever as he made himself out to be, Akbar decided to put an end to the protests and backbiting once and for all.
“Since you are all against Birbal, I will leave it to you to sort out the next challenge that presents itself in my court,” the emperor told his courtiers. “Birbal will stay out of it.”
The opportunity arose a few days later when a stranger presented himself at Akbar’s court one morning and introduced himself as a linguist fluent in more than 15 languages. “Jahanpanah, I can speak many languages, including Hindi, Urdu, Persian, Telugu, Tamil, Kannada, Marathi, Malayalam, Gujarati, Bengali, Odia, Punjabi, and others, each one as fluently as if it were my native tongue. I have travelled for many days to reach your durbar, and I’d like to put the wise men of your court to the test to see if they can identify where I am from and which of the languages is my mother tongue.”
Impressed by the scholar’s confidence, Akbar readily accepted the challenge. His courtiers hailed from all over Hindustan and neighbouring countries, and one or other of them would definitely be able to figure out where the multilingual scholar was from. Birbal was to play no part in unravelling the mystery. For the entire day, one by one, each courtier spoke in his mother tongue with the stranger, who responded with the fluency of a native speaker. The scholar was so well acquainted with the poetry and prose of every one of the languages that each courtier was convinced that he hailed from his part of the country. They couldn’t all be right, and not wanting to be proved wrong, the courtiers eventually admitted that they were unable to pinpoint the scholar’s origins.
Akbar was about to give his courtiers a tongue-lashing when Birbal came to their rescue. “Jahanpanah,” he said, “this has been a time-consuming exercise for the courtiers, and it is quite late. Let’s offer our visitor hospitality for the night and resume the challenge tomorrow.” The stranger was taken to the royal guest house, where he enjoyed a lavish meal before going to bed.
In a deep sleep after his tiring day, the scholar woke with a start when he heard loud banging sounds behind his bed. In the pitch dark, in an unfamiliar room, unable to make out what was causing the noise, the bewildered scholar jumped out of bed and ran out of the room, calling for help. Finding Birbal standing in the corridor, the stranger explained what had happened. Birbal calmed him down: “There’s nothing to worry about. Your window was left unlatched and is banging against the frame because of the wind. You can safely go back to bed but make sure you latch the window first.”
The next morning, the scholar returned to court to thank the emperor for his hospitality before continuing on his journey. Before he could speak, Birbal stepped forward and declared: “Your Majesty, we are honoured to have in our midst a man of great learning and erudition. It is not often that one comes across a person who can speak so many languages so fluently. I am certain that he comes from Gujarat, and his native language is Gujarati.”
Birbal’s announcement took everyone by surprise, not least the courtiers and especially the scholar. With folded hands, the scholar bowed to Akbar and then to Birbal. “I am indeed a Gujarati,” he said. “For the past 30 years, I have travelled across the length and breadth of Hindustan, and no one has been able to identify my mother tongue. Your educated and well-spoken courtiers tested me for the entire day yesterday but could not do so either. I’m amazed that Huzoor Birbal guessed correctly.”
“Tell us how you figured it out, Birbal,” Akbar commanded.
“I gave the matter some thought and came to the conclusion that when multilingual people feel fearful or panicky, they would instinctively speak in their first language...their mother tongue. Last night, when our guest was sleeping soundly, I repeatedly banged the window of his room rather loudly. Our guest woke up frightened and confused and rushed out of the room shouting in Gujarati, ‘What’s going on? What’s happening? God, please help me.’ And that’s how I identified his native tongue.”
Akbar turned to face his courtiers. “The charge of favouritism towards Birbal that you levy against me is blatantly false. I think you have seen for yourselves why I value Birbal so highly. He managed to figure out where our visitor was from without even conversing with him. He manages to solve mysteries that perplex all of you, even though he occasionally resorts to unconventional methods to do so. An adviser such as Birbal is worth his weight in gold to a king.”
Meanwhile, the scholar, adequately compensated for the inconvenience that had been imposed on him the night before, continued his travels around the country, singing the praises of the emperor and his wazir in a multiplicity of languages.
Excerpted with permission from “Birbal Proves His Worth” from Akbar and Birbal: The Finest Stories of the Emperor and His Wise Wazir, Delshad Karanjia, Aleph Book Company.
