The Well and the Water

A farmer named Ramu once bought a well from his neighbour. It was a good, deep well right beside his fields, and he paid for it with nearly all the money he had.

The next morning he went to draw water for his crops. But his neighbour was sitting on the edge of the well, blocking his way.

“What are you doing?” said the neighbour. “You can’t take water from here.”

“But I bought this well from you yesterday!”

“That’s right. You bought the well. You didn’t buy the water inside it. The water is still mine. If you want water, you’ll have to pay for that separately.”

Poor Ramu argued and pleaded, but it was no use. He had no more money, and his crops were drying up in the sun. In despair, he went to the Emperor’s court and told his story.

Akbar listened and turned to Birbal. “What do you say to this?”

Birbal sent for the neighbour, who came in looking very pleased with himself.

“Is it true,” asked Birbal, “that you sold this man your well?”

“Yes, sir. I sold him the well, fair and square. But I never sold him the water. The water still belongs to me.”

“I see,” said Birbal thoughtfully. “So the well belongs to the farmer, and the water belongs to you.”

“Exactly.”

“Then you have a problem,” said Birbal. “You are keeping your water in another man’s well. You must either pay the farmer rent for storing it there, or take all your water out of his well by tomorrow morning.”

The neighbour’s mouth fell open. Take all the water out of a deep well in one night? It was impossible. And paying rent for it, every day, forever, would cost him far more than he had made on the sale.

He looked at the Emperor, then at Birbal, then at the farmer. Then he bowed his head. “Forgive me. The water goes with the well. It is all his.”

The whole court laughed, and Ramu went home and watered his fields that very afternoon. As for the sly neighbour, Akbar fined him for wasting the court’s time, and he never tried to sell anything twice again.