The Golden Feather

One morning in Emperor Akbar’s court, a guard rushed in holding something remarkable a single shimmering feather that sparkled gold in the sunlight.

“Your Majesty,” he said breathlessly, “this fell from a peacock in the royal garden!”

The courtiers gathered around in amazement. The feather shimmered with a rare brilliance, unlike any they had seen before.

At once, the court broke into debate.

“This feather is priceless!” one minister exclaimed.

“We should find the bird and keep it caged,” said another. “Who knows what treasures it may offer again!”

Others agreed the idea of capturing the source of such beauty was tempting.

Akbar, intrigued, turned to Birbal. “What do you think, Birbal? Should we find the peacock and keep it for ourselves?”

Birbal picked up the golden feather, turned it gently in his fingers, then looked toward the garden.

He said calmly, “Your Majesty, this feather is beautiful, no doubt. But do you know what made it possible? The bird’s freedom its joy in dancing under the sun, flying beneath the open sky, living without fear.”

He held up the feather. “If you cage that bird, it may never drop such a feather again. Beauty like this doesn’t grow in confinement it is born from freedom.”

Akbar thought for a moment, then smiled. “Let the peacock remain free. This feather will remind us of what true beauty comes from.”

Moral: The finest creations are born not from control, but from freedom.