Elephant In The Pot

Akbar: Birbal, you are late as usual. You deserve to be hanged! But tell me why are you late?
Birbal: Forgive me, your majesty, I was trying to please my son.
Akbar: What is so difficult about that?
Birbal: He was asking me for silly things!
Akbar: Were you not able to please him?
Birbal: No, your majesty.
Akbar: No? Then you are not fit to be in the court of Akbar! I am fed up with your old tricks. (To guard) Hang him!
(Birbal falls at Akbar’s feet)
Birbal: Forgive me, your majesty. Give me a chance to prove that it is not easy to please one’s son.
Akbar: Come on, prove it!
Birbal: I shall act as your son, your majesty. Try to please me.
(Akbar gets up from his throne)
Akbar: What! Okay, I shall act as your father and try to please you. (Birbal weeps) Why are you crying, my son?
Birbal: Father, father …
Akbar: What?
Birbal: Father, father … a pot.
Akbar: (Angrily) Am I a pot?
Birbal: No, no, father. I want a pot.
Akbar: (Claps his hands) Minister, get a pot for my son. (A pot is brought in and Birbal plays with it) Are you satisfied, my son?
(Birbal weeps)
Akbar: My son, my son, what do you want?
Birbal: I want, I want an elephant.
Akbar: (Claps his hands) Minister, get my son a little elephant! (A boy dressed up as an elephant is brought in. Birbal plays with it)
Birbal: Father, father …
Akbar: (Angrily) What?
Birbal: Put the elephant in the pot.
Akbar: That is not possible.
(Birbal weeps)
Birbal: Put it in the pot.
Akbar: (firmly) Son, the pot will break!
Birbal: It should not break, it should not break. Put the elephant in the pot.
Akbar: Birbal!
Birbal: (Falls at Akbar’s feet) Your majesty!
Akbar: (laughs aloud) Well, well, well. I forgive you.