A Pot Full of Wit
A neighbouring king asks Akbar to send him a pot full of wisdom. The court is baffled, but Birbal says he needs only a few weeks, and a pumpkin. By Pagehush Retellings (2026). A traditional tale from the court of Emperor Akbar, retold in our own words.
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हिन्दी में पढ़ेंघड़े भर अक़्ल · वही कहानीOne day a messenger arrived from a neighbouring king. He carried a letter with a large red seal, and the court fell silent as the Emperor read it aloud.
“To the great Emperor Akbar. We hear that your court is full of wise men. If this is true, please send us a pot full of wisdom. If you cannot, we shall know that your famous court is not so wise after all.”
The courtiers looked at one another in alarm. A pot full of wisdom? How could anyone fill a pot with something you couldn’t see or hold?
“It’s an insult,” muttered one.
“It’s a trick,” said another.
The Emperor turned to Birbal. “Well? Can we send him what he asks?”
Birbal stroked his beard. “Certainly, Your Majesty. But wisdom takes time to grow. Give me one month, and an empty clay pot with a narrow neck.”
The pot was brought, and Birbal took it away. He went into the royal gardens, where pumpkin vines were spreading over the ground. He found a tiny pumpkin, no bigger than his thumb, still growing on its vine. Very gently, without breaking the stem, he slid the little pumpkin inside the pot through its narrow neck, and left it there to grow.
Every day he watered the vine. Every day the pumpkin grew a little bigger, until at last it filled the whole pot, round and fat, far too big to come out through the narrow neck again. Then Birbal cut the stem and sealed the pot.
He brought it to the Emperor with a letter of his own.
“To the wise king, with our respects. Here is the pot of wisdom you asked for. Please be careful when you take the wisdom out. You must not break the pot or damage the wisdom inside. When you have finished with the wisdom, kindly return the pot.”
The messenger carried the pot away. When the neighbouring king opened it and saw the big pumpkin wedged inside, he turned it this way and that. He tried shaking it. He tried pulling. There was no way to take out the pumpkin without breaking the pot.
At last he began to laugh. “There is wisdom in this pot after all,” he said. “The wisdom to know that some things that grow slowly cannot be pulled out in a hurry.”
He sent the pot back to Agra, with the pumpkin still inside and a handsome gift for the Emperor. And he never sent Akbar another riddle.