The Liar’s Breath

The queen of Koshala fell ill. The king’s court physicians did their best to cure her, but to no avail. The king loved the queen very much; he grew pensive and looked pale. His near and dear ones appeared even more distraught. They sat around the queen all the time, sighing and sobbing.

Three months passed, and the king gave up all hopes for the queen’s life. Just then, he received the news that a yogi from the Himalayas was passing through his city. He invited the yogi to the palace and sought his advice regarding the queen’s condition.

The yogi examined the queen, spoke with the physicians, and assessed the atmosphere in the queen’s room. He then led the king and his loved ones to another room and said gravely, “I can prepare the right medicine for the queen, but the medicine will be effective only if the queen is untouched by any liar’s breath!”

The king and the others sat, puzzled. “Let me explain. Nobody who has ever told a lie should go near the queen, unless she calls for him or her,” the yogi clarified.

After a brief silence, the king said, “Sir, I’m afraid we all have spoken lies at different times. It would be best if none of us goes near the queen.” That is exactly what occurred. Nobody approached the queen, except to provide her with medicine and food.

The queen recovered in a month, bringing great joy to the king. He thanked the yogi and said, “Sir, the medicine you gave the queen must have been something extraordinary.”

“No, my dear king,” replied the yogi. “I used the same medicine your physicians prescribed. I ensured that she had ample rest and that she was free from the air of sorrow. Because you looked sad, others competed to show their sadness, which further depressed the queen. Once the atmosphere changed, her condition improved.”