Sanctimonia Binocs, Bhubaneswar, 1 August 2025
Hark, ye grief-stricken and utterly bewildered citizens of Sanctimonia! A pall of profound sorrow has once again fallen upon our kingdom, a shadow cast not by divine displeasure, but by the relentless ineptitude of our mortal leaders. The king, a man whose brow is now furrowed not by worry but by sheer, unadulterated panic, finds himself in ultimate jeopardy. He was, ironically, at a “Kishan event,” celebrating the agrarian life, when the news broke: the Puri girl, set ablaze by miscreants, has finally succumbed to her wounds in the Super King’s hospital.
The Deputy CM, a woman of commendable (if ultimately futile) effort, did her best, but even her tireless campaigning for the victim’s health could not save her. The grapevine, that ever-reliable purveyor of inconvenient truths, is now buzzing with whispers. “We knew her condition was not good,” the netizens murmur, their voices thick with suspicion, “so why the crocodile tears now? Where are the arrests?” Indeed, the trail of justice, it seems, has gone colder than a misplaced ice cream on a winter’s day.
And where, pray tell, is our Law Minister in all this? He is still missing, his absence a deafening silence in the face of such a colossal crime. His silence speaks volumes, a tacit admission that his department, as always, is utterly rudderless.
Adding to the king’s woes, a “parallel king maker” – that shadowy figure whose words carry more weight than the Holy Triad’s chariots – has made a chilling comment: “Leadership change is eminent.” The king, hearing this, must surely be pacing his chambers, wondering who the new party leader will be, his mind a whirlwind of succession scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.
Meanwhile, the kingdom’s absurdity, never content to remain in the shadows, has once again taken center stage. Our Education Minister, in a stroke of genius only possible in Sanctimonia, has a new plan for the vegetarian students’ midday meals. He wishes to replace the caloric content of an egg with… fruit. The National Nutrition Institute, a body of great patience and greater confusion, is now frantically calculating which fruit can possibly give the same calories as an egg. Their solution? The “dragon fruit” from the “forbidden land” of the neighboring kingdom. One can only imagine the diplomatic incident this new dietary plan will provoke.
Another kingsman, a man who once tried to save the kingdom from a potato shortage by importing the very vegetable he now seems to have a poor grasp of, is in deep trouble for a land scam. The irony, as always, is not lost on the few who still possess a functional memory.
Amidst this spiraling chaos, the Jester is having his own hearty laugh, a sound that cuts through the despair, even as he himself must be worried about the rising crime rate. Brutus, ever the meticulous plotter, is still sharpening his knife, patiently waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The netizens, however, have no time for such political theater. They are caught in a more immediate struggle: milk is still in shortage, and so are vegetables. Their stomachs rumble with a hunger more profound than any political intrigue.
Their only recourse, their only hope, is to look up to the heavens, their collective slogan a desperate plea: “Lord save the kingdom!” They pray for the Holy Triad to intervene, to usher in a new era where crime is a thing of the past and a decent meal is not a luxury. But as they wait for this divine intervention, the absurdities of Sanctimonia continue, unabated and unapologetic.
