Sanctimonia Binocs, Bhubaneswar, 27 August 2025
Hark, ye perpetually bamboozled and surprisingly festive citizens of Sanctimonia! Our king, a man whose worry lines now form a roadmap of the kingdom’s countless problems, has devised a new plan to bring “strong” administration. He has decreed that all complaints must be logged. A noble idea, perhaps, until one realizes that the vast majority of netizens in our kingdom do not own a computer. How can one log a grievance without a log? The very question hangs in the air, a testament to the king’s grand vision and his utter disconnection from reality.
Meanwhile, our special relief minister, a man with a flair for the dramatic and a peculiar sense of geography, has announced that the floods have finally “receded” from the northern part of the kingdom. It seems he made this proclamation while standing on a hillock, a place where water never gathers in the first place. The view from his dry perch, it seems, is a far more pleasant reality than the waterlogged homes of his subjects.
In a move that could only be orchestrated by our Law Minister, a new decree has been passed: a total ban on sunglasses. The reason? A king from “beyond the ocean” has been sending spies with hidden cameras in their eyewear to photograph the Holy Triad in their temple. So, to prevent this high-tech espionage, our Law Minister has declared that everyone must now squint in the sun.
As if that weren’t enough, he has also filled the long-vacant Holy Triad Committee with members who, shockingly, all have some link to the Super King, including his former administrator. It seems our Law Minister, in his quest to protect the Holy Triad from foreign surveillance, has simply handed over the temple’s administration to a rival power. The netizens can only shake their heads in disbelief.
But wait! A rare victory for the common man has been achieved. The revenue inspectors, in their glorious and long-overdue strike, have forced the revenue minister to accede to all their demands. It seems the threat of cutting off the milk supply was no match for their collective resolve.
Today, however, the kingdom is in a state of blissful, if temporary, ignorance. It is Ganesh Chaturthi, and the citizens, lost in the joy of the festival, are celebrating. The king, a man who has always preferred ritual over reality, is only looking at the Ganesh idol. In the background, Brutus is still sharpening his dagger, a quiet and ominous presence. The netizens, in their festive mood, have chosen to ignore the absurdity of their leaders and the myriad of problems that still plague them. Perhaps in their joy, they have found a temporary solution: a festive state of mind where nothing can truly go wrong.
