The Painted Bird

One day, a cunning man arrived at Emperor Akbar’s court with a strange-looking bird in a cage. Its feathers were brightly colored, resembling the stunning hues of a peacock.

He proudly declared, “Jahanpanah, this is a rare and magical bird unlike any you’ve ever seen. I present it to your majesty as a symbol of nature’s mystery. It is worth a king’s reward!”

The courtiers admired the bird’s dazzling colors and whispered in amazement. Even Akbar was intrigued.

But Birbal watched silently, studying the bird’s eyes, beak, and movements. Then he stepped forward and said, “Your Majesty, may I reveal the truth?”

Akbar nodded.

Birbal left briefly and returned with a real peacock. He opened both cages side by side. As the real peacock spread its magnificent feathers and danced proudly, the painted bird clearly just a crow beneath layers of dye grew nervous. Within moments, the crow let out a harsh caw and flew off in shame, its paint starting to wear off in patches.

The court gasped, and Akbar frowned.

Birbal turned to the emperor and said, “A painted crow may fool a few eyes for a short while, but it cannot match the grace, elegance, or truth of the real thing. Imitation cannot hold its ground in the presence of authenticity.”

Akbar smiled and nodded in approval. “Indeed, Birbal. Truth does not need decoration it proves itself.”

Moral: Imitation may dazzle for a moment, but it fades the moment the original arrives.