ONCE UPON A TIME

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r,

All that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave

Awaits alike th’ inevitable hour.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

                                         - Thomas Gray

Once upon a time in Wonderland, there lived a king. He appeared gentle in his demeanour. But it was his whiskers thick and dark that concealed his venomous fangs. He was as soft spoken as the hiss of a Russell’s viper and as smooth as a rattle snake. He never laughed heartily for fear of baring his fangs. And he had no friends because he never laughed. He had a hundred thousand strong cavalry at his command, ready to do his bidding.

The King, being the monarch of all that he surveyed, had the world at his doorstep. He lived in a huge castle and if you could take on several alligators in the moat surrounding the castle and go past ferocious lions guarding his entrance and may be convince two very agreeable gentlemen with swords outside his chamber, you might reach him.

He rode any one of his five golden chariots and lived blissfully ignorant of the inanities of a routine statecraft.  The nitty-gritty was boring and the hoard of loyal and honest workers insipid. But he was ambitious. He hated anyone giving him sound advice. For he had appointed a few handpicked advisers who were as keen and sharp as only to give him that advice which they knew he was seeking affirmation for. And he was ambitious. He wanted to subjugate all his rivals and would with great ambition survey around to see that he was standing tall amidst the ruins.

He wanted to perpetuate his reign. And he wanted to erase all the memories of the previous rulers and crush any threats to his throne and he wanted his era to be remembered for ever. So he called his handpicked advisers to give him the right as advice. The advisers arrived forthwith as they always waited at his gate to be called in. The king glanced at his advisers, liveried and resplendent, in their shining armour.

And thus spake the King: “Hear ye all my worthy advisers. I have summoned you for you are my chosen cronies and will do anything to appease me. I am proud that I am unaware of the ground realities. And on the strength of my ignorance, I want to bring about all-round changes in the governance of my kingdom. I have already thrown out the rule book in the moat outside and have archived many time honoured practices.  I make my own rules and write my own history. As the first step to achieving the unbridled power, I want to incapacitate all of my chieftains so the world looks only up to me as the sole savior. I want to silence the voices of dissent. And I want to be loved and remembered by my subjects as a kindhearted, benevolent, fair and just king.”

The worthy advisers watched in awe as the king spoke and admired the vision and foresight of their master.

So the worthy advisers promptly retreated and huddled in the darkness of the night, deliberated amongst themselves in whispers. They deliberated for two days and returned with a plan. Only the noble king or his worthy advisers, in the name of the king shall issue all the commands. All the powers shall be centralized. Favours and rewards shall be bestowed only on the chosen ones.

The king heard his advisers with admiration and pride. ‘How fortunate I am’ said the king ‘to have chosen you to share my vision!’ Thereafter the king walked the earth as if he owned it forever. He felt taller by a few inches and his gaze turned to steel. The implementation had to be firm and unfaltering.

Seasons came and went. The winter turned in to summer and the summer in to rainy season.

The resolve of the king had a miraculous impact on his large flock of chieftains. They withdrew in to silence. They became increasingly ineffective. They stopped doing anything on their own initiative and waited for directions even in their designated fields. And the leaders of his cavalry meekly surrendered their powers to the whims of the king. Upright chieftains were in a perpetual fear of being hounded out. The king and his worthy advisers kept a close watch on everything happening around. And now all the voices of dissent having been effectively gagged, the king began to create an order of suspicion and distrust and intrigue.

As I told you, seasons came and went. The winter of despair came again-cold and stark. As the winter started to recede and summer winds set in, there was a strange quiet of expectancy. This was the time when snows began to melt, green began to turn gray and no birds sang. Spring was one season that was missing in the kingdom and with that all signs of hope, growth and new life. The spring was far behind.

Then the gentle breeze began to grow stronger. The winds of change began to sweep the length and breadth of Wonderland. All good things must come to an end, a wise adviser mused. The king looked at the mirror. ‘How horrible am I looking!’ He broke in to a cold sweat. He rolled his trembling fingers on to his whiskers only to find that his fangs had blunted, his hitherto glowing skin withered and his roar turned into a whimper. He panicked. ‘Time is running out for me!’ He suddenly missed a friend. But he didn’t have one for he never laughed.

He urgently wanted to consult his ever faithful advisors. He sent for them and waited impatiently. He jumped from his throne and started pacing up and down. He waited.

He looked out of the window. It was all still and silent in the immediate surroundings, though a fierce storm was beginning to blow in the distance. The ferocious lions had broken lose and appeared to have bolted to their natural abode in the jungle. The two very agreeable gentlemen with swords were nowhere in sight. The king panicked even further but waited. An inexplicable fear gripped him.

Far in the courtyard his golden chariots were missing.

The sun shone brightly in the middle of the sky and he waited. The evening shadows started lengthening and he waited. An eerie silence descended upon his castle. He waited and waited till he dropped to the floor disappointed, heartbroken and lonely. He longingly looked at the throne which he always thought was his forever. He soon fell into a deep but disturbed slumber, exhausted and tired.

And I watched it all happen with my eyes wide open until the strain hurt my eyes. I was overwhelmed. I must immortalize the unique life and times of our beloved king and his eternal wait for his advisers to turn up.

And then I dipped my feather pen in the ink-pot, drained the extra ink on the side and with tears in my eyes began to write…

Once upon a time in wonderland, there lived a king…

  

Thomas Gray