In a Land. I don’t know When. In a Time. I don’t know Where. We find ourselves at a place that is too far and the people too different to be truly “Us“; yet neither the place is that far nor the people that different to be honestly “Them“.
All I know that something “insignificant” had happened to a “nobody“, and quite a few amongst the “everybody” knew, and/or had heard, and/or may have seen different versions of this “nothing”. Hence, it was not even considered the start of a (or is it “the”) Holy War.
He ended up “dead“, still the act wasn’t wanton;
:: Nothing as such happened
Wasn’t the “man” one of those who are rotten;
:: Nothing that much happened
OK! The case was “unfortunate“, almost misbegotten;
:: Nobody that much mattered
‘Tis better that this “incident” is forever forgotten;
::Nobody as such mattered
Headline: “Dead Man, Unfortunate Incident”
FADE IN
As has become the norm, our collective posteriors are impacted unceremoniously in a place where smelly beverages, with CH3CH2OH content, are sold, served and imbibed. There sit three fellows with disparate appearances.
The First is a surreptitious guy with slightly oversized ears and two upper teeth protruding rodent like. We may have heard of him earlier (or will meet later, as we are going back in time in each chapter) when his creative work had been talked about quite critically by men who were Apes and Bears. He is a poet attached to an army expected to have successes deserving songs sung about them. Let’s call him Mr. Mickey.
The Second is a tall and lanky chap, with a decided slouch. as those gifted in the height department but rather un-gifted in the confidence side are wont to have. He has a penchant to break into nervous laughter, during inopportune times. Again lack of confidence maybe! This gauche character gazes at Mickey almost worshipfully, and has an expression of good-natured eagerness on his visage. Let’s call him Mr. Goofy.
The Third seems to be high-ranking Officer in an army. He has an orange-ish hue of skin (some ointment perhaps) and preternaturally small hands (holding a sharp knife playfully). He has a propensity to press his lips together and protrude them like a duck’s bill. At least when he is not talking in a loud voice about how “awesome” he is, or getting angry. Oh, and he has a red piece of silk around his neck, and an obvious golden wig on his pate. Let’s call him… Mr. Donald.
Mickey seems to having some intellectual problem, and Goofy hell bent in helping him. In spite of Mickey decidedly averse to his help, which we can guess is due to past experience. Donald is here to ensure the “story” leaves out certain parts, and includes some other parts (you will see!).
Mickey: Umm… ok Mr. D, I will remember that. But my problem right now is how to ensure that… the recent incident is recorded in a way that “shines a good light” on our Lords. We haven’t been able to prove that the man… umm… the demon was up to any major evil. All he did was refuse to be bound.
Goofy: Ah-yuk! Why don’t we say that he had some pre-existing medical condition which made him weaK. Like a weak heart or breathing problems. Why else would he have died after just a slight beating up.
M: Umm… have you lost it? Then it would not agree to the overall story that the Lords are here to protect the Weak, and kill the Evil. Wait… what if he was an evil demon, who tried to harm the Lords? And had a history of doing “evil stuff”. Everyone knows… these… demons are up to no good! And the Lords “liberated” him from this life of evil.
G: But… Ah-Yuk! The Lords weren’t directly involved. It was one of the officers (looks sheepishly towards Donald, the Duck Billed), and a few soldiers under him who were…
M: How many times do I have to tell you Goofy? The officers are akin to the sharp “swords” of the Lords. And the soldiers are the fast “arrows” of the Lords. Their weapons. Their tools. Their Exploits. Anything that can be remembered has to be done by the Lords. And they have to be good deeds. And it is true, right!
M: Umm… whatever you say, Mr. D! He attacked the Lords, and showed “disrespect” to the Princess Consort of the Elder Lord. The public gets all worked up when these… demons… misbehave with our women. Wait… (scribbles furiously for some time as we all wait)… I just wrote a verse on him trying to kidnap the Princess Consort.
“Making a dreadful sound, as if shaking the earth,
He took the Princess on his lap, shouted in mirth:
This woman of fine hips shall be my wife alright,
You sinners I shall drink the blood of both after the fight.”
The Exploits in the Forest : Creation 2:: Poet Valorous Mickey
G: That’s nice, Mickey my friend! But … Ah-yuk! The Princess isn’t back in the palace of her… ?
M: (looks at Goofy beseechingly) She ISN’T! She somehow convinced the Eldest Lord to take her along. You know love and all that! Her presence will be the REASON for many acts of the Lords in the future. Maybe she will get “successfully” kidnapped, which will force the Lords to attack far-off lands for her honor and safety. Why are you shaking your head? Are you saying that I am lying? I am telling you the Princess Consort came along with the Eldest Lord, and the Younger Lord.
Donald: Maybe I’m old fashioned but I don’t like seeing women in combat.
M: I understand Mr. D! That’s why the Younger Lord didn’t bring his consort. The Sleepy One. But, the Princess Consort was there, as she loves the Elder Lord a lot. And he loves her dearly as well. And she is like a mother-figure to the Younger Lord. Now if some … demon… does something so dastardly, can the Lords leave him unpunished? They… they struck him with their “swords“…. they fired their “arrows” at him… they cut his arms that dared touch the Princess Consort… they…
Donald: NO MERCY TO TERRORISTS you dumb b#$%#*ds!
M: (stares at him in ill-concealed disgust) As you say Mr. D! They put their feet on his neck, holding them down so that he doesn’t run away… ok doesn’t roll away… as he can’t walk anymore. Then they dug up a hole in the jungle. (sighs) And they buried him.
G: Alive? They buried him alive (peeks fearfully towards Donald). Why did “they” have to do that, Mickey?
M: (looks down sadly) Umm… because he was a poet, a singer. A merry man who shared a few drinks here (looks with fear as Donald sharpens his knife) … I mean… In his past life, he was a divine singer, and poet. He was known to have taught all he wished to learn of his arts. But… one fateful night… he was frolicking with a beautiful dancing girl… and the Lord of Gold (looks at Donald pointedly) took umbrance, as he thought it was disrespectful, that a singer gets the attention of the beautiful lass, and he … (sighs remembering his dead friend)… the Lord of Gold cursed him to become a fearful… (falters) I meant fearsome demon in the jungle, who would suffer in the jungle for long… and the only way he could escape from the torture, was when he died, and was buried in an unmarked hole in the same jungle.
G: It must have been so! May be he was a man with a past and existing medical problems, who could not take some “minor” beating. Or maybe he was a Singer of the Spoken Word, who had fallen on hard times. Or he was a demon who had disrespected a lady much above his station. Maybe he was like this due to the curse of the Lord of Gold for paying too much attention to a dancing girl. Whatever be the case, he was stepped upon, and released from the “bindings of this life”, by Those Who Protect.
G: You say such strange things Mr. D! I can never understand what you mean sometimes. Actually most of the times! (looks at a fast departing Mickey) Hey Mickey, where are you going?
M: (pauses with his back towards Donald and Goofy, hiding his face streaked with tears) I am just going out for some fresh air… I can’t f#$%ing breathe! I CAN’T F#$%ING BREATHE! (runs out before any one can stop him)
G: Ah-yuk! Why did he say that twice? We could hear him the first time only. What does he think we are? Monsters?
Donald: Covfefe!
FADE OUT
Random Mythoscopy 