Tag Archives: satire

Modern Parables – 4: When the chicken crossed the road.

The chicken that crossed the road wondered what the fuss was all about.

“There is no rule about not crossing the road, is there?” asked the chicken, panicking at the brouhaha.

“Umm, no. But chicken are expected to be afraid of traffic, and not mess with their lives. You see, authorities want your own safety,” replied the Inspector.

“The state has become paternal and has assumed all the powers of a father. Where is the free will,” the wise old owl commented cheekily from the branch overhead.

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked an angry Inspector, wondering whether the old fool was once again trying to sow seeds of dissent among the public. “Do not play mischief with the lives of people. If there are rules, they are for the good of the animals, and respecting them makes for a happy and safe society.”

Though the owl did not want to get drawn into the controversy, he could not resist quoting the old rule that a razor should never be given to a monkey.

The inspector, who happened to be a monkey, and also happened to have a weapon on his person, saw through the seemingly innocent comment.

“Oo. So we are challenging the authority of law, are we?” he demanded. “I arrest you for obstructing an officer of law in discharging his duty.”

Soon the matter was taken up at the court of justice, presided over by a balding eagle.

It did not help matters that the eagle disliked the owl, or that the chicken, which was produced as a witness in the case, ranted about crossing the road with a zebra.

The Hon’ble eagle, in its legal wisdom, pronounced the owl guilty, and sent him for a month of community service.

The monkey, satisfied at having quashed a rebellion in the bud, recounted the instance to many an animals with the sole wish to establish respect for law in society.

The incident however had the reverse effect on some of the more sensitive birds, who flew into a rage, and started attending a secret society to counter the growing autocracy in the country.

The chicken was made the mascot of the secret society – something that led to much disgust in the powerful circles.

Soon, the full force of law, and this time it was heavy ammunition of police dogs and hyenas that tackled the budding insurgency. Law was pressed into action, and a large number of chickens were culled for the betterment of the society. The culled chickens were used to make soup and this was served to the lions. The pride, which ruled the jungle for the benefit of all, prided itself for being ecologically sensitive and not wasteful, and encouraged cooking up of animals given capital punishment.

The discussion that followed the party dwelled on the foolishness of the aspersions that are cast on the law of the jungle by foreign powers. “We know what is best for our people,” commented the oldest male lion of the pack, for in his life he had always worked for a just and inclusive society.



The timid satirist

I shall write satire
When I am old –
I shall die laughing
(Die, as in after-life.)
I shall write honestly, for once,
About the men who used my money
To pay the police
Keep an eye on me;
And about those who smiled politely
When I bowed;
And of those who had the slyness to make it
And could fake greatness to perfection,
Most of the times,
And of their gracelessness,
When caught.
I shall not write about God –
He has been kind, most of the times,
And also because, to be honest,
I know not where I may land up.
I shall write about the gas
That fills up in the tummy
(And helps you fly high)
When you have too much money or education,
And of other ailments
That afflict the poor
And makes them drunk and indolent and smelly.
I shall spare no one
And, shall let myself go.
I know I shall have no one near
To pry into my thoughts
(I am that sort of guy)
And I won’t care
What they do with my diary
After me.

The Sham Ruler

The world loves and hates me
I am the sham,
That rules the world.


Few can emulate me, though
Many try. Few can match
My hypocrisy.


I am the matrix, the simulacrum
I am the goal, the dream
That you always dream.


I am the image you want to see
When you look, hopefully,
At the mirror.


I am the fashion statement
I am the chimera, the glitter
That dazzles you.


I am greedy, self-obsessed
The world pays homage
To my confidence.


I am corrupt, I am a leech
I have mastered the art
Of being your master.


I am the hunter. I prey
On your hard work and dreams.
I own success.


Though you may rant and rave
You don’t have the gumption
To call my bluff.


I am the self declared success
That you cannot question
With your cowardice.


I am flexible, I am a chameleon.
I change and chop myself –
And you can’t.


My cowardice is a strategy
My survival is the key –
The brave die for me.


I get you the weapons
For my battles. I negotiate
Over dead bodies.


I snatch, I steal and I always
Get my way. And anyways –
I make the laws.


I have the banks, the money.
And when I have don’t
I print more.


I have no friends, no enemies
I am loyal to none –
Save myself.




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