Sanctimonia Binocs, Bhubaneswar, 1 September 2025
Hark, ye perpetually bewildered and mathematically inclined citizens of Sanctimonia! Our king, a man who has decided that a grand show is the best solution to his woes, has prepared himself to meet the Super King. But it’s not the meeting itself that’s the story; it’s the spectacular, and spectacularly inefficient, way he gets there. Let’s do some quick Sanctimonian mathematics on this royal procession.
The king’s convoy is a sight to behold. It is led by a pilot on a motorcycle, who rides ahead, blaring a loudspeaker proclamation that the king is coming. Behind him, a fleet of fourteen chariots rolls along, with nobody knowing which one holds the actual king. If we assume a minimum of five people per chariot, that’s seventy people whose time is being utterly wasted just to pull this royal ruse. As if that weren’t enough, there is an ambulance chariot with a full ICU facility and another chariot with buckets of water to douse any impromptu fires—a grim nod to our kingdom’s preferred form of protest.
The king’s two deputies, of course, are a study in pure envy. They watch the parade of power and plot their own ascensions, dreaming of a day when they, too, can ride in a chariot of their own, surrounded by an equally absurd display of manpower.
In the shadows, our Law Minister, a man whose loyalty is as fluid as our kingdom’s politics, is getting closer to Brutus. He pretends to be working for the Holy Triad, his face a picture of serene piety, but everyone knows he’s up to something. He’s been meeting in secret with Brutus, plotting over quiet drinks in the ex-coal minister’s star palace. It seems our Law Minister’s ambition is a thirst that can only be quenched by betrayal.
Meanwhile, our Urban Minister, in a surprising display of clandestine initiative, has gone ahead and called the Super King’s advisor for a private meeting. He’s trying to get the western kingdom’s development plans and programs on track without anyone else’s knowledge.
The netizens, caught in the middle of this chaos, are in a tizzy. They’re trying to figure out how much money is being spent on the king’s grand parade, a spectacle that serves no purpose other than to stroke his ego. And they’re worried about the urban minister’s secret meeting. If money goes to the western part of the kingdom, how will the revenue be shared? What will be left for the rest of us?
