A CEO throwing a party takes his executives on a tour of his opulent mansion. In the back of the property, the CEO has the largest swimming pool any of them has ever seen.

The huge pool, however, is filled with hungry alligators.

The CEO says to his executives "I think an executive should be measured by courage. Courage is what made me CEO. So this is my challenge to each of you: if anyone has enough courage to dive into the pool, swim through those alligators, and make it to the other side, I will give that person anything they desire. My job, my money, my house, anything!"

Everyone laughs at the outrageous offer and proceeds to follow the CEO on the tour of the estate. Suddenly, they hear a loud splash. Everyone turns around and sees the CFO (Chief Financial Officer) in the pool, swimming for his life. He dodges the alligators left and right and makes it to the edge of the pool with seconds to spare. He pulls himself out just as a huge alligator snaps at his shoes.

The flabbergasted CEO approaches the CFO and says, "You are amazing. I've never seen anything like it in my life. You are brave beyond measure and anything I own is yours. Tell me what I can do for you.

The CFO, panting for breath, looks up and says, "You can tell me who the hell pushed me in the pool!"

This is the story of a long-gone era. In the country of India, nearly five thousand years back, lived a boy named Eklavya, the son of a tribal chief in the forests of the kingdom- Hastinapura. Eklavya was a brave, handsome boy. He was loved by all. But he was not happy.

His father saw that something troubled Eklavya. More than once he found his son lost deep in thought when other boys enjoyed the pleasures of hunting and playing. One day the father asked his son, Why are you so unhappy, Eklavya? Why don t you join your friends? Why are you not interested in hunting?

Father, I want to be an archer replied Eklavya, I want to become a disciple of the great Dronacharya, the great tutor of Archery in Hastinapura. His Gurukul is a magical place where ordinary boys are turned into mighty warriors.

Eklavya saw his father was silent. He continued, Father, I know that we belong to the hunting tribe, but I want to be a warrior, father, not a mere hunter. So please allow me to leave home and become the disciple of Dronacharya.

Eklavya’s father was troubled, for he knew that his son s ambition was not an easy one. But the chief was a loving father and he did not want to refuse his only son s wish. So the kind man gave his blessings and sent his son on his way to Drona s Gurukul.

Eklavya set on his way. Soon he reached the part of the forest where Drona taught the princes of Hastinapur.

In those days, there was no such system as a school, college, university or hostel. The only place where one could get some education was a Gurukul . A Gurukul (Guru refers to “teacher” or “master”, Kul refers to his domain, from the Sanskrit word kula, meaning extended family.) is a type of ancient Hindu school in India that is residential in nature with the shishyas or students and the guru or teacher living in proximity, many a time within the same house. The Gurukul is the place where the students resided together as equals, irrespective of their social standing. The students learned from the guru and also helped the guru in his day-to-day life, including the carrying out of mundane chores such as washing clothes, cooking, etc. The education imparted thus, was a wholesome one.

Having said this much, let us now return to Eklavya. When the boy reached Dronacharya s Gurukul, he saw that it consisted of a group of huts, surrounded by trees and an archery yard. The disciples were practicing to shoot arrows with their bows and arrows in the yard. It was an engaging sight. But Eklavya s eyes searched Drona. Where was he? Will he be able to see the man? Without Drona, all his purpose of coming here would be meaningless. But all his worries soon subsided. He did not have to wait for long. There was the man standing near a tree busy instructing a boy, who was none else than the third Pandava prince Arjuna, as Eklavya came to know later. Though Eklavya had never seen Drona before, he put his guess at work. He went near Drona and bowed. The sage was surprised to see a strange boy addressing him. Who are you? he asked.

“Dronacharya, I am Eklavya, son of the Tribal Chief in the western part of the forests of Hastinapura.” Eklavya replied. “Please accept me as your disciple and teach me the wonderful art of Archery.”

Drona sighed. “Eklavya… if you are a tribal hunter, you must be a Shudra, the lowest social community according to the Vedic Caste System. I am a Brahmin, the highest caste in the kingdom. I cannot teach a Shudra boy” he said.

“And he’s also a Royal teacher,” interrupted Prince Arjuna. “Our Guru has been appointed by the King to train us, the princes and the highborn. How dare you come inside the Gurukul and seek him? Leave! NOW!” he spat out, looking enraged that Eklavya had disturbed his practice.

Eklavya was stunned at Arjuna’s behavior. He himself was the son of the chief of his clan, but he never insulted anyone below him in such a way. He looked at Drona for some kind of support, but the sage remained silent. The message was loud and clear. Dronacharya also wanted him to leave. He refused to teach him.

The innocent tribal boy was deeply hurt by Drona’s refusal to teach him. “It’s not fair!” he thought miserably. “God has given knowledge to all, but man alone differentiates his kind.”

He left the place with a broken heart and a bitter taste in his mouth. But it could not shatter his ambition to learn Archery. He was still as determined to learn Archery.

“I may be a Shudra but does it make any difference?” thought he. ” I am as strong and zealous as Drona’s princes and disciples. If I practice the art everyday, I can surely become an archer.”

Eklavya reached his own forests and took some mud from a nearby river. He made a statue of Dronacharya and selected a secluded clearing in the forests to place it. Eklavya did this because he faithfully believed that if he practiced before his Guru, he would become an able archer. Thus, though his Guru shunned him, he still held him in high esteem and thought of him as his Guru.

Day after day, he took his bow and arrow, worshiped the statue of Drona and started practice. In time faith, courage and perseverance transformed Eklavya the mere tribal hunter into Eklavya the extraordinary archer. Eklavya became an archer of exceptional prowess, superior even to Drona’s best pupil, Arjuna.

One day while Eklavya is practicing, he hears a dog barking. At first the boy ignored the dog, but continuous disturbance in his practice angered him. He stopped his practice and went towards the place where the dog was barking. Before the dog could shut up or get out of the way, Eklavya fired seven arrows in rapid succession to fill the dog’s mouth without injuring it. As a result it roamed the forests with its mouth opened.

But Eklavya was not alone in his practice. He was unaware of the fact that just some distance away, the Pandava princes were also present in that area of the forest. As fate would have it, that day, they had come with their teacher, Drona, who was instructing them about some finer points of archery by making them learn in the real-life condition of the open jungle.

As they were busy practicing, they suddenly chanced upon the “stuffed” dog, and wonder who could have pulled off such a feat of archery. Drona was amazed too.” Such an excellent aim can only come from a mighty archer.” he exclaimed. He told the Pandavas that if somebody was such a good archer then he surely needed to be met. The practice was stopped and together they began searching the forest for the one behind such amazing feat. They found a dark-skinned man dressed all in black, his body besmeared with filth and his hair in matted locks. It was Eklavya. Dronacharya went up to him.

“Your aim is truly remarkable!” Drona praised Eklavya, and asked “From whom did you learn Archery?” Eklavya was thrilled to hear Drona’s praises. How surprised he will be if he told Drona that he, in fact was his Guru! “From you my Master. You are my Guru,” Eklavya replied humbly.

“Your Guru? How can I be your Guru? I have never seen you before!” Drona exclaimed in surprise. But all of a sudden he remembered something. He remembered about an eager boy who had visited his Gurukul several months ago. ” Now I remember,” said he. “Are you not the same hunter boy whom I refused admission in my Gurukul some months back?”

“Yes, Dronacharya”, replied the boy. “After I left your Gurukul, I came home and made a statue like you and worshipped it every day. I practiced before your image. You refused to teach me, but your statue did not. Thanks to it, I have become a good archer.”

Hearing this, Arjuna became angry. “But you promised me that you’d make me the best archer in the world!” he accused Drona. “Now how can that be? Now a common hunter has become better than me!”

The other princes remembered their master frequently praising Arjuna that he had immense talent and will be the greatest archer in the kingdom. They waited with bated breath. What will their teacher do now?

Unable to answer Arjuna’s question, Drona remained silent. The sage too was upset that his promise to Prince Arjuna was not going to be fulfilled. He was also angry with Eklavya for disobeying him. So the sage planned to punish Eklavya.

“Where is your guru dakhsina? You have to give me a gift for your training,” the sage demanded. He had finally found a way to make Eklavya suffer for his disobedience.

Eklavya was overjoyed. A guru dakshina was the voluntary fee or gift offered by a disciple to his guru at the end of his training. The guru-shishya parampara, i.e. the teacher-student tradition, was a hallowed tradition in Hinduism. At the end of a shishya’s study, the guru asks for a “guru dakshina,” since a guru does not take fees. A guru dakshina is the final offering from a student to the guru before leaving the ashram. The teacher may ask for something or nothing at all.

“Dronacharya, I’ll be the happiest person on earth to serve you. Ask me anything and I will offer it to you as my guru dhakshina “he said. “I might ask something you don’t like to give me. What if you refuse the dhakshina I want?” Drona asked cunningly.

Eklavya was shocked. It was considered a grave insult and a great sin if a guru’s dakshina was refused. “No! How can I, teacher? I am not that ungrateful. I’ll never refuse anything you ask, Dronacharya,” promised the unsuspecting boy.

Drona did not wait anymore. “Eklavya, I seek to have your right-hand thumb as my guru dhakshina” he declared. Silence befell on everyone. Everyone was shocked, even Arjuna. He looked at his teacher in horror and disbelief. How could their teacher make such a cruel demand? That too, from a mere boy?

For a moment Eklavya stood silent. Without his thumb he could never shoot arrows again. But the teacher must be satisfied. “Ok Gurudev, as you wish.” said he. Then, without the slightest hesitation, Eklavya drew out his knife and cut his thumb!

The princes gasped at Eklavya’s act of bravery. But the tribal boy betrayed no signs of pain, and held out his severed thumb to Dronacharya.

“Here is my guru dakshina, Drona”, Ekalavya said. “I am happy that you have made me your disciple, even if I’m a mere Shudra hunter.”

The sage was humbled. He blessed the young archer for his courage. “Eklavya, even with out your thumb, you’ll be known as a great archer. I bless you that you will be remembered forever for your loyalty to your guru,” Drona declared and left the forests. He was moved and grieved at his own action. But he was content that his promise to Arjuna was not broken. The Gods blessed Eklavya from above.

But despite his handicap, Eklavya continued to practice archery. How could he do so? When one is dedicated, one can make even mountains bow. With practice, Eklavya could shoot arrows with his index and middle finger and he became a greater archer than he was ever before. His renown spread far and wide. When Drona came to know this, he blessed the boy silently and begged for divine forgiveness.

And true to Drona’s blessing, Eklavya is still praised as the most loyal and brave student in the epic of Mahabharatha.

Moral:

Any knowledge Teacher gives to Student has value in life of a Student as he goes on with life.  Think from Kindergarten till highest level of study you have completed, see what you will be left with if there were no teachers in your life.  Parents give us life, love and help in going right direction, But Teachers show us how to live life, shows us path and makes us self dependable so that we can pick the right path.  Always respect your teachers, do not value them any lesser than your parents.  When student succeeds in studies and life, its student who always gets praised by People, not the one who gave student a knowledge to success.   Teacher’s Happiness is in student’s success, and student should not forget to at least thank politely to the one who made you capable of following journey of life.  And if you had learned what your teacher taught you with dedication and respect to towards teacher, journey of life always gets comfortable.

Many years ago, there was an Emperor, who was so excessively fond of new clothes, that he spent all his money in dress. He did not trouble himself in the least about his soldiers; nor did he care to go either to the theater or the chase, except for the opportunities then afforded him for displaying his new clothes. He had a different suit for each hour of the day; and as of any other king or emperor, one is accustomed to say, "he is sitting in council," it was always said of him, "The Emperor is sitting in his wardrobe."

Time passed merrily in the large town which was his capital; strangers arrived every day at the court. One day, two rogues, calling themselves weavers, made their appearance. They gave out that they knew how to weave stuffs of the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns, the clothes manufactured from which should have the wonderful property of remaining invisible to everyone who was unfit for the office he held, or who was extraordinarily simple in character.

"These must, indeed, be splendid clothes!" thought the Emperor. "Had I such a suit, I might at once find out what men in my realms are unfit for their office, and also be able to distinguish the wise from the foolish! This stuff must be woven for me immediately." And he caused large sums of money to be given to both the weavers in order that they might begin their work directly.

So the two pretended weavers set up two looms, and affected to work very busily, though in reality they did nothing at all. They asked for the most delicate silk and the purest gold thread; put both into their own knapsacks; and then continued their pretended work at the empty looms until late at night.

"I should like to know how the weavers are getting on with my cloth," said the Emperor to himself, after some little time had elapsed; he was, however, rather embarrassed, when he remembered that a simpleton, or one unfit for his office, would be unable to see the manufacture. To be sure, he thought he had nothing to risk in his own person; but yet, he would prefer sending somebody else, to bring him intelligence about the weavers, and their work, before he troubled himself in the affair. All the people throughout the city had heard of the wonderful property the cloth was to possess; and all were anxious to learn how wise, or how ignorant, their neighbors might prove to be.

 "I will send my faithful old minister to the weavers," said the Emperor at last, after some deliberation, "he will be best able to see how the cloth looks; for he is a man of sense, and no one can be more suitable for his office than be is."

So the faithful old minister went into the hall, where the knaves were working with all their might, at their empty looms. "What can be the meaning of this?" thought the old man, opening his eyes very wide. "I cannot discover the least bit of thread on the looms." However, he did not express his thoughts aloud.

The impostors requested him very courteously to be so good as to come nearer their looms; and then asked him whether the design pleased him, and whether the colors were not very beautiful; at the same time pointing to the empty frames. The poor old minister looked and looked, he could not discover anything on the looms, for a very good reason, viz: there was nothing there. "What!" thought he again. "Is it possible that I am a simpleton? I have never thought so myself; and no one must know it now if I am so. Can it be, that I am unfit for my office? No, that must not be said either. I will never confess that I could not see the stuff."

"Well, Sir Minister!" said one of the knaves, still pretending to work. "You do not say whether the stuff pleases you."

"Oh, it is excellent!" replied the old minister, looking at the loom through his spectacles. "This pattern, and the colors, yes, I will tell the Emperor without delay, how very beautiful I think them."

"We shall be much obliged to you," said the impostors, and then they named the different colors and described the pattern of the pretended stuff. The old minister listened attentively to their words, in order that he might repeat them to the Emperor; and then the knaves asked for more silk and gold, saying that it was necessary to complete what they had begun. However, they put all that was given them into their knapsacks; and continued to work with as much apparent diligence as before at their empty looms.

The Emperor now sent another officer of his court to see how the men were getting on, and to ascertain whether the cloth would soon be ready. It was just the same with this gentleman as with the minister; he surveyed the looms on all sides, but could see nothing at all but the empty frames.

"Does not the stuff appear as beautiful to you, as it did to my lord the minister?" asked the impostors of the Emperor's second ambassador; at the same time making the same gestures as before, and talking of the design and colors which were not there.

"I certainly am not stupid!" thought the messenger. "It must be, that I am not fit for my good, profitable office! That is very odd; however, no one shall know anything about it." And accordingly he praised the stuff he could not see, and declared that he was delighted with both colors and patterns. "Indeed, please your Imperial Majesty," said he to his sovereign when he returned, "the cloth which the weavers are preparing is extraordinarily magnificent."

The whole city was talking of the splendid cloth which the Emperor had ordered to be woven at his own expense.

And now the Emperor himself wished to see the costly manufacture, while it was still in the loom. Accompanied by a select number of officers of the court, among whom were the two honest men who had already admired the cloth, he went to the crafty impostors, who, as soon as they were aware of the Emperor's approach, went on working more diligently than ever; although they still did not pass a single thread through the looms.

"Is not the work absolutely magnificent?" said the two officers of the crown, already mentioned. "If your Majesty will only be pleased to look at it! What a splendid design! What glorious colors!" and at the same time they pointed to the empty frames; for they imagined that everyone else could see this exquisite piece of workmanship.

"How is this?" said the Emperor to himself. "I can see nothing! This is indeed a terrible affair! Am I a simpleton, or am I unfit to be an Emperor? That would be the worst thing that could happen--Oh! The cloth is charming," said he, aloud. "It has my complete approbation." And he smiled most graciously, and looked closely at the empty looms; for on no account would he say that he could not see what two of the officers of his court had praised so much. All his retinue now strained their eyes, hoping to discover something on the looms, but they could see no more than the others; nevertheless, they all exclaimed, "Oh, how beautiful!" and advised his majesty to have some new clothes made from this splendid material, for the approaching procession. "Magnificent! Charming! Excellent!" resounded on all sides; and everyone was uncommonly gay. The Emperor shared in the general satisfaction; and presented the impostors with the riband of an order of knighthood, to be worn in their button-holes, and the title of "Gentlemen Weavers."

The rogues sat up the whole of the night before the day on which the procession was to take place, and had sixteen lights burning, so that everyone might see how anxious they were to finish the Emperor's new suit. They pretended to roll the cloth off the looms; cut the air with their scissors; and sewed with needles without any thread in them. "See!" cried they, at last. "The Emperor's new clothes are ready!"

And now the Emperor, with all the grandees of his court, came to the weavers; and the rogues raised their arms, as if in the act of holding something up, saying, "Here are your Majesty's trousers! Here is the scarf! Here is the mantle! The whole suit is as light as a cobweb; one might fancy one has nothing at all on, when dressed in it; that, however, is the great virtue of this delicate cloth."

"Yes indeed!" said all the courtiers, although not one of them could see anything of this exquisite manufacture.

"If your Imperial Majesty will be graciously pleased to take off your clothes, we will fit on the new suit, in front of the looking glass."

The Emperor was accordingly undressed, and the rogues pretended to array him in his new suit; the Emperor turning round, from side to side, before the looking glass.

"How splendid his Majesty looks in his new clothes, and how well they fit!" everyone cried out. "What a design! What colors! These are indeed royal robes!"

"The canopy which is to be borne over your Majesty, in the procession, is waiting," announced the chief master of the ceremonies.

"I am quite ready," answered the Emperor. "Do my new clothes fit well?" asked he, turning himself round again before the looking glass, in order that he might appear to be examining his handsome suit.

The lords of the bedchamber, who were to carry his Majesty's train felt about on the ground, as if they were lifting up the ends of the mantle; and pretended to be carrying something; for they would by no means betray anything like simplicity, or unfitness for their office.

So now the Emperor walked under his high canopy in the midst of the procession, through the streets of his capital; and all the people standing by, and those at the windows, cried out, "Oh! How beautiful are our Emperor's new clothes! What a magnificent train there is to the mantle; and how gracefully the scarf hangs!" in short, no one would allow that he could not see these much-admired clothes; because, in doing so, he would have declared himself either a simpleton or unfit for his office. Certainly, none of the Emperor's various suits, had ever made so great an impression, as these invisible ones.

"But the Emperor has nothing at all on!" said a little child.

"Listen to the voice of innocence!" exclaimed his father; and what the child had said was whispered from one to another.

"But he has nothing at all on!" at last cried out all the people. The Emperor was vexed, for he knew that the people were right; but he thought the procession must go on now! And the lords of the bedchamber took greater pains than ever, to appear holding up a train, although, in reality, there was no train to hold.

Once upon a time as a merchant set off for market, he asked each of his three daughters what she would like as a present on his return. The first daughter wanted a brocade dress, the second a pearl necklace, but the third, whose name was Beauty, the youngest, prettiest and sweetest of them all, said to her father:

"All I'd like is a rose you've picked specially for me!"

When the merchant had finished his business, he set off for home. However, a sudden storm blew up, and his horse could hardly make headway in the howling gale. Cold and weary, the merchant had lost all hope of reaching an inn when he suddenly noticed a bright light shining in the middle of a wood. As he drew near, he saw that it was a castle, bathed in light.

"I hope I'll find shelter there for the night," he said to himself. When he reached the door, he saw it was open, but though he shouted, nobody came to greet him. Plucking up courage, he went inside, still calling out to attract attention. On a table in the main hall, a splendid dinner lay already served. The merchant lingered, still shouting for the owner of the castle. But no one came, and so the starving merchant sat down to a hearty meal.

Overcome by curiosity, he ventured upstairs, where the corridor led into magnificent rooms and halls. A fire crackled in the first room and a soft bed looked very inviting. It was now late, and the merchant could not resist. He lay down on the bed and fell fast asleep. When he woke next morning, an unknown hand had placed a mug of steaming coffee and some fruit by his bedside.

The merchant had breakfast and after tidying himself up, went downstairs to thank his generous host. But, as on the evening before, there was nobody in sight. Shaking his head in wonder at the strangeness of it all, he went towards the garden where he had left his horse, tethered to a tree. Suddenly, a large rose bush caught his eye.

Remembering his promise to Beauty, he bent down to pick a rose. Instantly, out of the rose garden, sprang a horrible beast, wearing splendid clothes. Two bloodshot eyes, gleaming angrily, glared at him and a deep, terrifying voice growled: "Ungrateful man! I gave you shelter, you ate at my table and slept in my own bed, but now all the thanks I get is the theft of my favorite flowers! I shall put you to death for this slight!" Trembling with fear, the merchant fell on his knees before the Beast.

"Forgive me! Forgive me! Don't kill me! I'll do anything you say! The rose wasn't for me, it was for my daughter Beauty. I promised to bring her back a rose from my journey!" The Beast dropped the paw it had clamped on the unhappy merchant.

"I shall spare your life, but on one condition, that you bring me your daughter!" The terror-stricken merchant, faced with certain death if he did not obey, promised that he would do so. When he reached home in tears, his three daughters ran to greet him. After he had told them of his dreadful adventure, Beauty put his mind at rest immediately.

"Dear father, I'd do anything for you! Don't worry, you'll be able to keep your promise and save your life! Take me to the castle. I'll stay there in your place!" The merchant hugged his daughter.

"I never did doubt your love for me. For the moment I can only thank you for saving my life." So Beauty was led to the castle. The Beast, however, had quite an unexpected greeting for the girl. Instead of menacing doom as it had done with her father, it was surprisingly pleasant.

In the beginning, Beauty was frightened of the Beast, and shuddered at the sight of it. Then she found that, in spite of the monster's awful head, her horror of it was gradually fading as time went by. She had one of the finest rooms in the Castle, and sat for hours, embroidering in front of the fire. And the Beast would sit, for hours on end, only a short distance away, silently gazing at her. Then it started to say a few kind words, till in the end, Beauty was amazed to discover that she was actually enjoying its conversation. The days passed, and Beauty and the Beast became good friends. Then one day, the Beast asked the girl to be his wife.

Taken by surprise, Beauty did not know what to say. Marry such an ugly monster? She would rather die! But she did not want to  hurt the feelings of one who, after all, had been kind to her. And she remembered too that she owed it her own life as well as her father's.

"I really can't say yes," she began shakily. "I'd so much like to..." The Beast interrupted her with an abrupt gesture.

"I quite understand! And I'm not offended by your refusal!" Life went on as usual, and nothing further was said. One day, the Beast presented Beauty with a magnificent magic mirror. When Beauty peeped into it, she could see her family, far away.

"You won't feel so lonely now," were the words that accompanied the gift. Beauty stared for hours at her distant family. Then she began to feel worried. One day, the Beast found her weeping beside the magic mirror.

"What's wrong?" he asked, kindly as always.
           
"My father is gravely ill and close to dying! Oh, how I wish I could see him again, before it's too late!" But the Beast only shook its head.

"No! You will never leave this castle!" And off it stalked in a rage. However, a little later, it returned and spoke solemnly to the girl.

"If you swear that you will return here in seven days time, I'll let you go and visit your father!" Beauty threw herself at the Beast's feet in delight.

"I swear! I swear I will! How kind you are! You've made a loving daughter so happy!" In reality, the merchant had fallen ill from a broken heart at knowing his daughter was being kept prisoner. When he embraced her again, he was soon on the road to recovery. Beauty stayed beside him for hours on end, describing her life at the Castle, and explaining that the Beast was really good and kind. The days flashed past, and at last the merchant was able to leave his bed. He was completely well again. Beauty was happy at last. However, she had failed to notice that seven days had gone by.

Then one night she woke from a terrible nightmare. She had dreamt that the Beast was dying and calling for her, twisting in agony.

"Come back! Come back to me!" it was pleading. The solemn  promise she had made drove her to leave home immediately.

"Hurry! Hurry, good horse!" she said, whipping her steed onwards towards the castle, afraid that she might arrive too late. She rushed up the stairs, calling, but there was no reply. Her heart in her mouth, Beauty ran into the garden and there crouched the Beast, its eyes shut, as though dead. Beauty threw herself at it and hugged it tightly.

"Don't die! Don't die! I'll marry you . . ." At these words, a miracle took place. The Beast's ugly snout turned magically into the face of a handsome young man.

"How I've been longing for this moment!" he said. "I was suffering in silence, and couldn't tell my frightful secret. An evil witch turned me into a monster and only the love of a maiden willing to accept me as I was, could transform me back into my real self. My dearest! I'll be so happy if you'll marry me."

The wedding took place shortly after and, from that day on, the young Prince would have nothing but roses in his gardens. And that's why, to this day, the castle is known as the Castle of the Rose.

On a cold winter day Akbar and Birbal took a walk along the lake. A thought came to Birbal that a man would do anything for money. He expressed his feelings to Akbar. Akbar then put his finger into the lake and immediately removed it because he shivered with cold.

Akbar said "I don’t think a man would spend an entire night in the cold water of this lake for money."

Birbal replied "I am sure I can find such a person."

Akbar then challenged Birbal into finding such a person and said that he would reward the person with a thousand gold coins.

Birbal searched far and wide until he found a poor man who was desperate enough to accept the challenge. The poor man entered the lake and Akbar had guards posted near him to make sure that he really did as promised.

The next morning the guards took the poor man to Akbar. Akbar asked the poor man if he had indeed spent the night in the lake. The poor man replied that he had. Akbar then asked the poor man how he managed to spend the night in the lake. The poor man replied that there was a street lamp near by and he kept his attention affixed on the lamp and away from the cold. Akbar then said that there would be no reward as the poor man had survived the night in the lake by the warmth of the street lamp. The poor man went to Birbal for help.

The next day, Birbal did not go to court. The king wondering where he was sent a messenger to his home. The messenger came back saying that Birbal would come once his Khichri(Rice) was cooked. The king waited hours but Birbal did not come. Finally the king decided to go to Birbal’s house and see what he was up to.

He found Birbal sitting on the floor near some burning twigs and a bowl filled with Khichri(Rice) hanging five feet above the fire. The king and his attendants couldn’t help but laugh.

Akbar then said to Birbal "How can the Khichri(Rice) be cooked if it so far away from the fire?"

Birbal answered "The same way the poor man received heat from a street lamp that was more than a furlong away."

The King understood his mistake and gave the poor man his reward.

This parable is told of a farmer who owned an old mule. The mule fell into the farmer’s well. The farmer heard the mule praying or whatever mules do when they fall into wells. After carefully assessing the situation, the farmer sympathized with the mule, but decided that neither the mule nor the well was worth the trouble of saving. Instead, he called his neighbors together, told them what had happened, and enlisted them to help haul dirt to bury the old mule in the well and put him out of his misery.

Initially the old mule was hysterical! But as the farmer and his neighbors continued shoveling and the dirt hit his back, a thought struck him. It suddenly dawned on him that every time a shovel load of dirt landed on his back, HE WOULD SHAKE IT OFF AND STEP UP!

This he did, blow after blow. “Shake it off and step up…shake it off and step up…shake it off and step up!” He repeated to encourage himself. No matter how painful the blows, or how distressing the situation seemed, the old mule fought panic and just kept right on SHAKING IT OFF AND STEPPING UP!
 

It wasn’t long before the old mule, battered and exhausted, stepped triumphantly over the wall of that well! What seemed like it would bury him actually helped him . . . all because of the manner in which he handled his adversity.

THAT’S LIFE! If we face our problems and respond to them positively, and refuse to give in to panic, bitterness, or self-pity.

Once a rich merchant’s house was robbed. The merchant suspected that the thief was one of his servants. So he went to Birbal and mentioned the incident. Birbal went to his house and assembled all of his servants and asked that who stole the merchant’s things. Everybody denied.

Birbal thought for a moment, then gave a stick of equal length to all the servants of the merchant and said to them that the stick of the real thief will be longer by two inches tomorrow. All the servants should be present here again tomorrow with heir sticks.

All the servants went to their homes and gathered again at the same place the next day. Birbal asked them to show him their sticks. One of the servants had his stick shorter by two inches. Birbal said, "This is your thief, merchant."

Later the merchant asked Birbal, "How did you catch him?" Birbal said, "The thief had already cut his stick short by two inches in the night fearing that his stick will be longer by two inches by morning."

A cosmic god had a horse. The horse was beautiful and also it had many good qualities. But it wanted to be more perfect in every way. It especially wanted to become beauty unparalleled.

One day the horse said to the cosmic god, "0 Lord, you have given me beauty. You have given me other good qualities. I am so grateful to you. But how I wish you could make me more beautiful. I would be extremely, extremely grateful if you could make me more beautiful."

The cosmic god said, "I am more than ready to make you more beautiful. Tell me in what way you want to be changed."

The horse said, "It seems to me that I am not well proportioned. My neck is too short. If you can make my neck a little longer, my upper body will be infinitely more beautiful. And if you can make my legs much longer and thinner, then I will look infinitely more beautiful in my lower body."

The cosmic god said, "Amen!" Then immediately he made a camel appear in place of the horse. The horse was so disheartened that it started to cry, "0 Lord, I wanted to become more beautiful. In what way is this kind of outer form more beautiful?"

The cosmic god said, "This is exactly what you asked for. You have become a camel."

The horse cried, "Oh no, I do not want to become a camel I wish to remain a horse. As a horse, everybody appreciated my good qualities. Nobody will appreciate me as a camel."

The cosmic god said, "Never try to achieve or receive more than I have given you. If you want to lead a desire-life, then at every moment you will want more and more. But you have no idea what the outcome will be. If you cry for a longer neck and legs, this is what will happen. Each thing in my creation has its own good qualities. The camel is not as beautiful as you are, but it carries heavy loads and has a tremendous sense of responsibility."