Birbal goes to Heaven

Birbal was a minister of Akbar the Great who was the emperor of India. He was a very clever man and Akbar was very fond of him. The courtiers could see the emperor walking along the palace gardens with his hand on the shoulders of his minister. Such intimacy and trust on the part of the emperor in Birbal roused jealousy of the court nobles. One day they all got together to find a way to ruin Birbal. After a long time they hit upon a bold plan which they were sure would bring death to their enemy and future glory to them. The man who proposed the devilish plan was Ali who was another minister in the court of Akbar.

The next day Ali sent for the emperor’s barber. He gave him some gold coins and promised more if he would help to execute a plan to get rid of Birbal. Money is a temptation for all men and the court barber was no exception to it. He promised his cooperation. Then Ali explained the plan in detail to the astonished barber.

A day later, as was his custom, the barber went to the palace to shave the emperor. His face was a picture of sadness. He didn’t even talk to the guards who ridiculed him saying that he had been beaten up by his wife. The barber by nature was a very talkative person. But on that day he was as dumb as an ox. Even when he was busy in his work, he said not even a word. Akbar knew that there was something amiss. So, he questioned him.

“What is wrong with you today, my good barber? You have not spoken a word and your face is a picture of grief. Has anything happened in your family? Speak up my man.”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. Everything is fine at home, thanks to your kindness and Allah’s blessing. But my lord, I could not sleep the whole of last night. I have been thinking of Your Majesty’s ancestors who died many years ago. It is over twenty years that your illustrious father left us. We have never heard about them ever since. I was thinking about their welfare,” said the barber.

“But my man,” said Akbar, “How can we know about them? They are dead and gone to heaven and are with Allah now. I am sure that they are all perfectly happy.”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, for my impudence. How can we be sure that they lack nothing in heaven? Has anyone gone there and returned to tell us, of their welfare?” said the barber.

“O my foolish barber,” said Akbar, “Do you not know that people who go to heaven cannot return to earth?”

“My lord king when you have such clever and able men like honorable Birbal in the court; you have only to command and a noble of such exceptional abilities will surely be able to make a journey to heaven and return with news of your beloved forefathers.” The barber was silent for a moment and then added: “I think you owe such a gesture of love to your departed ones.”

When the name of Birbal was mentioned, Akbar understood that it was a sinister attempt on the part of his enemies to get rid of this able minister and that the poor barber was playing his part. He sat for some time in deep thought and finally said, “I am sure of the ability of my minister Birbal. It shall be done as you suggest.” With that he dismissed the barber.

That afternoon, Akbar called Birbal and ordered him to make necessary preparations for his journey to heaven so that he could bring back news about his ancestors. The minister got astonished at the coolness of the emperor in asking him to undertake such an impossible task. 

“But how can I go to heaven, Your Majesty?” asked Birbal.

“First you will have to die and then when you reach heaven; a clever man like you can find your way back to earth. This is not my idea; my barber suggested it this morning as he was shaving my face,” said Akbar.

Birbal too understood that it was a plot hatched by his enemies in the court to eliminate him and that the court barber was playing his part in it. Although he saw the danger, he accepted the challenge. He asked for a month’s time to prepare for his long journey to heaven and for some money for his family if he happened to be late in returning. Akbar agreed to both requests.

For a month Birbal was not seen in the court. He was busy at home. With the help of a group of trusted friends he dug a passage from his house to the public cemetery nearby. Within a month the passage was ready. In the cemetery he built a small enclosure. Into this he piled hay and firewood. Then on the last day of the month he came to the court and told the emperor that he was ready to begin his journey. The time was announced early so that the people could witness the death of the famous Birbal.

On the appointed day, thousands gathered in the public cemetery. Even the emperor and his courtiers were there. The cunning barber too showed his face and was giggling with delight. At three o’clock in the afternoon, dressed in saffron clothes, Birbal was escorted to the funeral pyre. He sat on the piled up wood and began to say his prayers. Then he closed his eyes to tell everyone that he was ready. A huge quantity of hay was thrown on him. The attendants then sprinkled oil on the hay. And to the loud beating of drums the hay was set on fire.

Great was the lamentation from the crowd as the fire swept through the pile of hay and wood. Birbal was a very good man and everyone was sad at his death. Even emperor Akbar shed tears for his lost friend. But there was a smile on the face of some of the nobles of the court.

But Birbal was no fool. As soon as the fire began to spread, he slipped down through a hole in the pile of the wood and reached home through the secret passage. There he changed his dress, put on the clothes of a poor beggar, disfigured his face with dirt and mingled with the crowd now watching his funeral. He sat near the cemetery while begging alms from the rich, he talked to them about Birbal and his death. By the end of the day he learnt that it was the cunning minister Ali who had put the idea into the head of the court barber.

For six months Birbal enjoyed a very carefree life. He moved about the city of Agra in different disguises. Once as a holy mendicant he met emperor himself and received alms from him. Akbar did not recognize him. Meanwhile his hair and beard were growing. When his hair had grown sufficiently long, he decided to go back to the court. One day he put on his best clothes and presented himself before the emperor as he was holding the court. Akbar was so surprised that he ran to embrace his lost friend.

“I knew, friend, that you would one day come back to me,” said the emperor.

“Your Majesty,” said the Birbal, “With grace of God I am back.”

“Now tell me all about your journey. How are my father and grandfather? Are all my people well and happy?” Akbar was impatient.

Birbal said: “All your ancestors are in a good health. They are all happy in heaven except for one thing.”

“Are they in need of something, Birbal?” Akbar asked.

“Oh! It is nothing; just a minor discomfort. There is nothing for the emperor to worry about,” Birbal replied.

“No. I command to tell me about it. I will do everything in my power to make them happy,” insisted the emperor.

Very calmly Birbal began, “Your Majesty, you should know that ever since people started to go to heaven, not even one barber has entered the palace. Hence some of your ancestors have the beards that sweep the ground. The other day I was walking with your grandfather and he stepped on his own beard and fell. Some tried to shave themselves, but since they had not done it here on earth, they got cuts on their faces. Your Majesty, what they ask me to tell you is that they urgently need the services of a barber.”

The emperor understood the words of his minister. “It will be done as you say,” said Akbar. The court barber was called in. But Birbal stepped forward and once again addressed Akbar. “My lord, barber cannot walk into heaven alone. We need to send a noble man with him. May I suggest that we send noble Ali with the barber?  After all, they are very close friends and will be willing to do this for love of you.”

“It will be done as you say,” said Akbar. Both Ali and his friend received the emperor’s command to journey to heaven. But they fell at the feet of emperor and begged him to spare their lives. They even implored Birbal to plead for them.

But Birbal was in no mood to spare them. He ordered his men to prepare the funeral pyre for Ali and the barber. The same day both plotters perished in the same fire.

That was the last time Birbal had any trouble from the courtiers.