I’ve read thousands of parables. Most of them weren’t that good. In fact, a great number of those short stories disillusioned me. Only a few tales made a serious impact on my life. An example would be a narrative about a Genghis Khan’s falcon. Having read the parable, I got speechless. Almost a decade has passed and I still love the story. In hard times the narrative helped me to act in a sound manner.

There are many versions of this parable. I provide you with my favorite one.

One morning, the Mughal warrior, Genghis Khan and his courtiers went out hunting. His companions carried bows and arrows, but Genghis Khan carried on his arm his favourite falcon, which was better and surer than any arrow, because it could fly up into the skies and see everything that a human being could not. However, despite the group’s enthusiastic efforts, they found nothing. Disappointed, Genghis Khan returned to the encampment and in order not to take out his frustration on his companions, he left the rest of the party and rode on alone. They had stayed in the forest longer than expected, and Khan was desperately tired and thirsty. In the summer heat, all the streams had dried up, and he could find nothing to drink. Then, to his amazement, he saw a thread of water flowing from a rock just in front of him.

He removed the falcon from his arm, and took out the silver cup, which he always carried with him. It took a while to fill and, just as he was about to raise it to his lips, the falcon flew up, plucked the cup from his hands, and dashed it to the ground. Genghis Khan was furious, but then the falcon was his favourite, and perhaps it, too was thirsty. He picked up the cup, cleaned off the dirt, and filled it again. When the cup was only half-empty this time, the falcon again attacked it, spilling the water. Genghis Khan adored this bird, but he knew that he could not, under any circumstances, allow such disrespect, someone might be watching this scene from afar and, later on, would tell his warriors that the great conqueror was incapable of taming a mere bird. This time he drew his sword, picked up the cup and refilled it, keeping one eye on the stream and the other on the falcon. As soon as he had enough water in the cup and was ready to drink, the falcon again took flight and flew towards him. Khan, with one thrust, pierced the bird’s breast. The thread of water, however had dried up, but Khan, determined now to find something to drink, climbed the rock in search of the spring. To his surprise, there really was a pool of water and, in the middle of it dead lay one of the most poisonous snakes in the region. If he had drunk the water, he too, would have died.

Khan returned to camp with the dead falcon in his arms. He ordered a gold figurine of the bird to be made and on one of the wings, he had engraved:

“Even when a friend continues to do something you do not like, he continues to be your friend.”

And on the other wing, these words were engraved:

“Any action committed in anger is an action doomed to failure.”