The parrot was very dear to the Emperor – the apple of his eye, in fact. Naturally, it became dear to each of the courtiers. Everyone was aware, of course, of the decree: any person who dares to break the news of Raaghu’s death would be beheaded forthwith!
Bringing up a parrot well is an art that is difficult to master; not everybody’s cup of tea. But an Emperor is an Emperor, he could assign at will, different responsibilities to different courtiers. Someone to look after the parrot, someone else to decide how it is to be done, yet another courtier to draw up a diet chart and an altogether different person to look after the training. Everybody tried their own experiment with the parrot. The Emperor could not be bothered with minor details. He had so many other affairs of the state to attend to.
Too many cooks do spoil the broth. The parrot’s condition began to deteriorate. First, he stopped his regular exercises. Sluggishness followed. Then came indigestion. Finally, difficulty in breathing. But no one was willing to admit that Raaghu was going under the weather. They continued with their enthusiastic experiments uncoordinated, the left hand not wanting to know what the right hand was doing. That poor parrot. There was a limit to his resilience. After a brief sojourn with the ICU, he headed towards his heavenly abode! The inevitable had happened.
Everyone was shell-shocked. How can one break this news to the Emperor? Who, in other words, would volunteer to get beheaded?
As usual, the responsibility was cast upon Birbal. Some courtiers rejoiced. Let us see how he manages his way through this mess? You cannot smart your way out every time.
The Emperor was not amused at the unannounced visit of Birbal. “What’s up Birbal? What brings you here?”
“No agenda, O the mighty one. I happened to be passing by, so I thought I could brief the Mighty one about the state of things”.
“Is all well Birbal? Anything amiss?”
“What can go wrong under the gaze of the Mighty one? Everything is normal. Yes of course, I did notice Raaghu while I was on my way; he was up to something”.
“Must be one of his usual pranks. Quite a mischievous parrot I must say. Was he up to some new trick today?” The Emperor asked.
“No pranks really. He was in a different mood today. Lying on his back, very quiet”.
“Oh, that is rather unusual for a restless creature like him”. The Emperor observed.
“And he had his feet up, literally – a very steady posture”.
“Was he not saying anything?” the Emperor asked rather impatiently.
“No, the Mighty one. Probably he was not in a mood to talk”.
“Even after seeing you? Isn’t he rather fond of you?” Asked the Emperor anxiously.
“He did not quite look at me. He was gazing at the celling – very steadily”.
“Did he not bat his eyelids”? The Emperor was alarmed.
“No, the mighty one. Did not quite notice him batting any eyelid”.
“Oh Birbal, Raaghu is dead – he is no more!” The Emperor grieved.
“No, no, no … O Mighty one, I never said any such thing. You would get me beheaded straight away.”
Has the parrot of the Economy started acting somewhat funnily?
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