The Invisible Ink

One day, a renowned poet stormed into Emperor Akbar’s court, clearly upset. With a dramatic gesture, he pointed at Birbal and exclaimed, “Your Majesty, Birbal has stolen my poem! The idea was mine I shared it in conversation, and now he presents it as his own!”

The court grew tense, all eyes turning to Birbal. Akbar raised his hand for silence and asked, “Birbal, what do you have to say in your defense?”

Birbal replied calmly, “If the poem truly belongs to him, let him write it again here and now.”

The poet’s confidence wavered. He picked up a quill, paused, and stared at the blank page. The words didn’t come. The structure, the flow, even the central theme seemed to vanish from his memory. Moments passed, and the silence in the court deepened.

Birbal gently smiled. “Jahanpanah,” he said, “ideas are like invisible ink they fade when they are not truly your own. If this poem had come from his heart, it would not disappear so easily.”

Akbar, seeing the truth unfold before him, nodded in approval. “Wisdom, like poetry, cannot be borrowed,” he said. The court agreed, and the matter was put to rest.

The poet, humbled, quietly stepped away.

Moral: What is truly yours stays with you imitation fades, but originality endures.