Won't Be!

Won’t Be!

Raja Krishan Dev was restless. He had no reason to be so, which made him even more so. Since his accession to the throne, life had been a bed of roses and soft bodies for him. The best of clothing, food, drinks and off course women, were his for taking and the finest of men vied with each other to bow and scrape before him.

However, it is a strange, but true fact, that an extended run of good fortune itself, sometimes, makes one as miserable as that of bad luck. In both cases, you begin to wonder, ‘Why me?’

So it was with the Raja.

One day he put a conundrum to his ‘Darbaris.’

“Get me something, on seeing which, a happy man would weep and a miserable man would smile!”

As a carrot for the competing knights, he put what kings usually put up as a prize; his daughter’s hand in marriage.

The pain, in case none succeeded, was that the entire coterie would be banished from the court forever. The Raja was fed up with them. Familiarity had bred contempt.

To tell the truth, the king’s unsoiled, untouched, princess was irresistible bait. Daughters of the boss man usually are. You get one, and your place in the Sun is assured. So the valiant nobles had left no stone unturned in finding the answer.

The answer however was not hidden beneath any stone. Thus none of them found anything.

Finally, one of them left for the jungle, because wisdom is often found in the wilderness. Civilised society and its confirmative, pre- structured thought processes usually stifle the mind. It losses its ability to think.

The knight did find a sage. And thus got his answer. The venerable hermit wrote something on a palm leaf, folded it, and handed it to the courtier.

“Do not look at it till you have shown it to your master,” commanded the wise man. The knight nodded gratefully. He rushed to the palace.

It was a full durbar and the emperor’s favourite ‘nautch’ girls were shaking their wares on the floor. They were at it so with such enthusiastic gusto that even the feeblest of those present felt aroused.

The emperor was happily enjoying himself, as he should have been.

Suddenly, without warning, he struck his hands together, twice.

The resultant retorts were sharply urgent; loud enough, to override the music and, all at once, there was pin drop silence in the hall. All eyes swung towards the throne. From there they swung to the entrance of the ball room.

The absent knight was standing in the hallway.

Summoned to the throne, he stepped forward, bowed and handed the missive to his lord.

Smiling, the emperor unfolded it.

Lo and behold! Dark clouds hid his happy smile. Ashen, was his visage as he left the court.

By default the gathering stood dismissed. All trooped out.

Long after they had all left, an old woman began cleaning up the mess they had left behind them. She was the surviving queen of the ex king.Many years ago, the present incumbent had spared her life for certain favours she had agreed to render. Otherwise the fate of a leader of men and wolves was similar, once their sinews finally failed them.

Because, the term democracy, had not yet been coined. And there was no mechanism in place, which allowed you to just fade away into retirement, to write your memoirs, and enjoy your loot in peace. Kingdoms were still won and lost on the ruthlessly sharp edge of a sword’s blade.

The cares of the world weighed the lady down, as she hobbled, from chair to chair, sweeping, cleaning, and collecting the refuse.

At last she reached the throne, which was once graced by her husband.

She picked up the parchment that the king had left behind and opened it. Almost instantly her eyes lit up with hope. She smiled.

Written on it were the words “What is won’t be! Times will change!”