Its something that each of us devours,
Not just us but birds, beats, trees, and flowers,
Frets iron and nibbles steel,
Toil hard stones to meal,
Exterminates king, collapse town,
And blows the mountains down.
Today is John's birthday.
A year ago, John had five candles and he lit all the candles except the one at the last.
Now he is going to light all the candles.
I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth, I am dissolved into air. What am I?
The King of a distant land had heard that Birbal was one of the wisest men in the East and so desired to meet Birbal. He sent Birbal an invitation to visit his country.
In due course, Birbal arrived in the distant kingdom. When he entered the palace he was flabbergasted to find not one but six kings seated there. All looked alike. All were dressed in kingly robes. Who was the real king?
The very next moment he got his answer. Confidently, he approached the king and bowed to him.