To each their throne-a short story

 To each their throne-a short story

 If you say that a throne is just an over rated, oversized, uncomfortable chair, I would say, “Welcome to the sour grapes club”- the one started by our friend the fox who could not reach his grapes…..

A throne is a throne, my dear friend, it has an aura that goes with it.  Whatever, it may look like, a bejeweled diamond encrusted throne of the Mughals or the broken stone in the ruins of a long-forgotten empire or even a simple chair. Like this one neatly hidden in plain sight in the interiors of central India. Hidden only because no one knew about it. You did not know, did you?

Come along with me as we zoom into this nondescript small town, much like many others around here. The town does not boast of any specialty, it really s not the center of commerce. It is not known for ancient or modern handicrafts or weaving. The oldest historical structures are probably the ramshackle zamindar’s residences, which his own descendants have forsaken. No rivers or lakes to add to the local charm either. It is a city which is just so.

Zoom in further to the location of the throne and you will find yourself in an unremarkable government office housed in the more or less central business district of the city. The office has 2 rooms, one for the head, Bade Babu and another where all his minion babus exist. Exist is not meant as a hyperbole, because truthfully existing is all that is possible in the sweltering heat of the summer months. The heat saps out any tinge of ‘cool’ even from the imagination and the poor inhabitants know only 3 weather conditions, hotter, hottest and unbearable.  Things move in slow motion in these parts, at the same speed of the air (which is almost nil). And things include, people, files, work and everything encompassed by these.

If you have settled into this zone and have started feeling the heat around your collar, I will zoom in further to the throne which is placed in the corner of the room, beside the one and only pedestal fan. The pedestal fan is as unremarkable as the office, but works satisfactorily, filling the room with noise and  spewing hot air towards the throne.  The throne is occupied by dear Raja Babu, who has been in the throne from the time anybody could remember.   Everyone accepted that Raja Babu was the rightful occupant of the throne, without question or regret.  We Indians are quite adept at handling the hand me downs of fate.

Raja Babu was a methodical man. He always arrived on time, worked for  3 hours had an elaborate lunch, a small siesta and again continued his work for  2 hours, before he went home.  It was one such lazy scorching summer afternoon. Raja Babu finished his lunch and neatly packed the boxes away. Krishnakant was copying his son’s  classwork for him, Sulochana madam was  checking the whatsapp messages and a couple of others were engaged in the heavenly pursuit of digging their noses.  Being busy  was probably the reason  (some say, it was the noise made by the fan)why they did not immediately react to Raja Babu’s gasp as he clutched his chest. It was only when the tiffin box clattered down from where it had been perched that the eyes rose up. The people in the room rose up at their fastest slow motion, and crossed the  long distance between their chairs and the throne  and reached Raja Babu’s chair and eventually got around to taking him to the hospital.

God bless his soul. Raja Babu was a good man, albeit a lazy good one and he departed to the heavens by the end of the day, an auspicious day as per the astrologer.

 

When Krishnakant arrived at the office on the succeeding Monday, everything was as it was. The peon had switched on the fan next to the throne. The whirring fan  wasting its hot air on the empty chair.  Krishnakant acting with uncharacteristic speed, quickly settled down on the chair. After all he was the seniormost, senior to Sulachana madam by 2 months!

Ahh, the comfort , the beauty, the feel of it. He had never realized how hot the room was! He waited for the others to come , so that he could justify his claim to the throne.

When the court did gather, there were no respectful bows- none was expected- but many  gasps and scornful looks directed at it. Nobody dared to question, until Sulochana walked in, an hour late as usual. She seemed aware of the transfer of power, She must have been forewarned. She walked right upto the throne and demanded to know who gave the official order to allow Krishnakant to occupy the chair. Sometimes men do learn that silence works better with woman and Krishnakant used this weapon today and it worked. A fuming Sulochna went back to her chair. The room was suddenly hotter. Everyone companied, files became hand fans and juice and soda were guzzled by the hour. By afternoon, Krishnakant settled comfortable into his chair, the threats of coups seemed to have fritted away, when there was a commotion. Krishnakant looked up from his file to see  everyone gathered around Sulochana’s desk.

‘’She has fainted! Get up. Don’t you have any humanity. Let her sit near the fan’’ he was told.

Not having any other option, he got up and the staff helped the portly lady into the throne. Krishnakant was reassuring himself that it would be shortlived and glanced at the lady in the chair, wondering what had happened, And then, he caught her wink!

Hai! This was a conspiracy. He could not le t it be. He would take action tomorrow.

The next day, Tuesday, Krishnakant  wlaked upto Bade babu’s room and  officially requested that he be allowed to sit in the chair with the fan as he was the seniormost.

 

Bade babu used the greatest tool in the government arsenal, ‘’PROCRASTINATION!!!!!!’’. Some how tuesday passed waiting for the decision, filled with sharp glances and sarcastic words. The verdict did not come and Bade babu quickly scurried out by evening, avoiding Krishnakant.

Krishnakant would not give up. Wednesday arrived with Krishnakant carrying a box of choicest mangoes to Bade babu. Soon after, his son arrived with some home made sweets and then after some time, tender coconut came by.

Finally unable to withstand the stuffiness of the gifts, Bade babu announced,’’ Krishnakant is working on Rajeshji’s files. They could not risk sweat falling on  the files of such a powerful person! So Krishnakant will sit on the chair next to the fan from tomorrow’’ and then quickly clearing his throat, he hurried out, muttering about a sore throat, avoiding any other questions.

Sulochana was fuming. Well if he could carry tales, she could spin stories too. She just casually told her neighbor, who was Bade babu’s sister in law about the day Krishna kant made a fool of himself by spitting paan on Rajeshji’s car. Why Rajeshji swore that he will eliminate the fool’s ( krishnkant’s entire clan!

Thursday morning, Krishnakant was told that he longer needed to work on the files and Sulochana madam would take over. Naturally, that meant that  the chair would be occupied by her!

Now the battle was in full swing. There was no way, Krishnakant would back track. Overan evening drink and game of cards, Krishnkant told poor Sulochana’s poor husband, that she always boasted. ‘’ I am the boss of the house. He just listens to me!’’

Well it was one thing that the dear man was actually in the middle of a failed business venture- he had been there for over 15 years now. He  would take care of the house and the children, while his wife earned a handsome pay. But still, in the interiors of India, no self respectful man would agree to be called a house husband.

People say an epic battle was fought that night, with a lot of yelling and vessels flying in Sulochana’s house. The same people also say that the poor lady sustained  a bruise when one of the flying pans hit her.  She did not come to office on Friday. Krishnkant was relived and spent a peaceful day enjoying the hot air. Until Mr. sulochana arrived in the evening , having been appraised y his wife about the real reason  for the events. There  was quite a fight between the 2 men, ending with the pedestal fan falling down to its death, or at least coma

Saturday and Sunday saw a lot of behind the scenes action. Sulochana of course reached out to Rameshji , who was in fact her late uncles’s third cousin’s brother in law’s son. Krishnakant  continued to satiate Bade babu’s sweet tooth. Bade babu had a few cards up his sleeve as well.

It was going to be epic and interesting. Quite a crowd gathered outside the office on Monday when the two sides arrived, dressed for combat one in a  crisp white, ironed kurti and  other in an elegant saree. The 2 parties marched together into the room, not wanting to let the other take the lead!

Something was different.

Why the sound! The sound of the pedestal fan was missing. Instead there was a noise from above. It was the whirring of the ceiling fan, distributing hot air all around, equalizing all.

 Well, like most other battles, this battle for the throne, ended in  the throne losing it’s power