Sanctimonia Binocs, Bhubaneswar, 22 August 2025
Hark, ye perpetually bewildered citizens of Sanctimonia! The kingdom has become a stage for a most peculiar theatrical production, starring our king and an unusually silent jester. The moment our beloved jester returned from the hospital, still recovering, the king, with a pride that would make a peacock blush, promptly went to his home. He wasn’t there to offer condolences, but to show off his latest triumphs: a new ring road and a proposed metro rail project.
The irony, of course, is that these are merely modified versions of the jester’s own original plans, which were previously shelved. The king, however, takes all the credit, thumping his chest and claiming the Super King himself is responsible for the project seeing the light of day. But the jester, in his weakened state, can only look on, unable to speak a word.
This same chest-thumping pride is on display with the new steel plant. He boasts of getting industrial giants POSCO and JSW to build a massive factory in his constituency—the very same giants that the jester had courted, only to see them unceremoniously thrown out. Once again, the jester can only watch, his silence a stark contrast to the king’s grandstanding.
In the Holy Triad’s temple, our Law Minister, ever the opportunist, has decreed that devotees must now line up in queues for darshan. The netizens are not fooled; they know that in the long run, this queue will be a prelude to a ticketed system, where only the privileged can afford a glimpse of the holy figures.
Meanwhile, our Deputy CM, a man of empty rhetoric, is running around with a microphone, proclaiming that the kingdom will be the “best by 2030.” Yet, when asked about the source of the funding for this glorious future, he is suddenly struck dumb. The other Deputy CM, however, is celebrating. She’s overjoyed about the plan to sterilize stray dogs, a move praised by the Super King’s court, which she believes will end the menace once and for all.
But amidst all this political theater, a grim reality unfolds. A small girl is tragically locked in her school and gets caught in a window grill while trying to escape. In another part of the kingdom, a young woman is attacked and suffers gashing wounds requiring twenty stitches, all for the sake of a mobile phone. The netizens are filled with a new and terrifying worry: how can they possibly send their daughters out for studies when the kingdom’s streets are so unsafe? The police, for their part, have raised their hands in defeat, unable to control the rising crime. Their only hope, like that of the netizens, is a desperate prayer to the Holy Triad.
The grapevine, however, has a final, ominous whisper: the kingmaker is in the Super King’s palace, ready to orchestrate a cabinet reshuffle. The lady senator hopes to seize her chance, and Brutus, of course, is patiently sharpening his dagger, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The stage is set for a climax, and Sanctimonia waits, with bated breath, for the next act in this never-ending drama.
