The Common Man sighed. He lifted the corpse of Vetala from atop a huge election banner, put it on his shoulder and began walking towards the polling booth. Vetala secretly appreciated his perseverance but said out loud unto him “O common man, I really do not know what you wish to achieve through this exercise. If power is what you are after, I am afraid you might meet the same fate as the great king Manu did while using his power. Let me tell you the story to relieve you of the drudgery of this task of carrying me.”
“Yet another story,” muttered the Common Man to himself. He could not curse Vetala openly as that is not the Common Man’s wont. So he remained silent.
And Vetala began his narration.
“King Manu was very happy and full of enthusiasm after his recent coronation. Being the king of such a large democracy was no small matter, after all.
The euphoria continued for some time. Learning the ropes of his new ‘job’ had its own pleasures and thrills. Sage Vashishtha was very particular in his sermons.
“Do remember O King” he had said, “A good state is one where the system delivers services and not individuals. A king should be vigilant and particular to ensure that public grievances are disposed at appropriate levels themselves, and not above these”.
Manu listened to the Sage sincerely. He could not agree more, But soon the daily routine of governing preoccupied him and these lofty principles got relegated to remote corners of his memory.
It was a day like any other. Manu was bathing in his pond when he saw this small fish from his constituency. Wagging his little fins, the fish approached him and narrated his woes. “I am a poor unemployed fish, O King”, he said. “Take me out of this turbid water of poverty and unemployment and let me into the fountain of a secure government job… and for this act of kindness, I shall remain ever grateful.” He did not inform that he wasn’t already in the clean fountain because he had failed to make the grade in the competition.
Manu took pity on him. He asked his secretary to pick this fish up and place him in the clean pool of Secure Jobs.
“But Sir’, the Secretary protested, “Entry to that pool is regulated. There are norms, procedures which cannot be…..”
Manu was annoyed. “You think I do not appreciate this? Is a king not entitled to exceptions? After all I have promised him a job. He is a fish from my constituency!”
Logic had no place now. The Secretary did not argue further. He issued instructions. The cunning fish entered the new pool. He fell at Manu’s feet, professed his gratitude for ever, Manu felt good about himself.
Some days passed. This time a small delegation of fish found Manu while bathing. All of them were from his constituency. They touched Manu’s feet. He inquired as to what problem they faced.
It was the good old story. Another large Job Pool had vacancies. There were the same entrance test and interviews. Vacancies were numerous. Could not these few small fry of the king’s constituency…
“Yes, why not. I suppose such a small matter can indeed be taken care of.”
What he did not bother to inquire of the delegation – nor did they wish to tell him – was about that their performance in the written test. It was had been dismal. But for manipulation through interview marks, they did not stand much chance of getting through.
Manu’s instructions followed. The Secretary issued these. Nobody protested. The ‘small fry’ made it into the Big Pool. All of them came to Manu with their parents, friends, relatives. They touched Manu’s feet, sang songs in his praise, and raised slogans. It was a sizeable crowd. Manu felt happier.
That night he dreamt that a big fish-god had appeared before him. Manu thought that he was blessing him. He felt reassured. He had been aware of the ancient myth. His great predecessor Manu the first, was helped by a similar god – the Matsya – when the deluge came.
Some more days passed. This time Manu was found himself surrounded by a much larger crowd of fish at his bathing ghat. It comprised of various small groups. Each group had a different set of demands. Some had come for old age pension, some for bank loans while a few others had come for jobs. They had all heard of how their generous representative had very kindly helped the group of small fry.
Manu could not refuse help now. It was question of his image. Being inexperienced, he did not know the art of saying no. He put word out, gave necessary instructions and satisfied the demands of all the groups.
He did not, even once, try to verify how many of the fish were really deserving of his help. Matsya appeared in his dream again. Manu felt that he appeared to have grown in size.
Word quickly spread in the constituency. Manu started getting larger and larger streams of favour-seeking fish from his constituency. He found it hard to turn them out or refuse help. Honestly speaking, he had started enjoying this. More than the fishes who approached him, he relished the crowds that came with the obliged subjects who would fall at his feet, sing in his praise, raise slogans.
The size of Matsya of his dreams was increasing day by day. First it could be contained in a pond, then it required a stream and then a river. As the day of the deluge was announced Matsya had grown large enough to be in the sea.
The crowd at Manu’s bathing ghat had turned in to a torrent. They were getting unmanageable. Initially a couple of dealing assistants were drafted to deal with them. This was followed by some supervisors, then some officers and subsequently, a Deputy Secretary. Gradually, Manu’s office took over the bathing ghat itself. It was now difficult for individual common fish to approach Manu directly and narrate his view. A regular gang of intermediaries had cropped up there.
Blissfully unaware of these unhealthy developments, Manu continued to please, pamper and oblige the fishes of his constituency. When the date of deluge drew near, he went to the office of the returning officer, filed his nomination, gathered his family members, advisors, took bags of grain and water to drink and boarded the boat of public opinion. He was confident that Matsya would come and take him to the safe and secure Peak of Victory.
Matsya did turn up. Manu looked at him carefully. His body was made of very small individual fishes. Their combined movement created the form of Matsya. Manu noticed that he was much larger than he appeared in the dream. Yet he was reassured to see a number of fishes whom he had obliged in the past. He was sure that they would guide Matsya to the proper destination. He tied the other end of the rope to Matsya’s nose and waited for departure. The boat started cruising in the vast sheet of water rocked by wave after wave of public opinion.
The water level began to rise steadily.
The boat had come midstream now. Manu noticed that it was slowing down. He felt worried. The Peak of Victory was still far off.
The boat had stopped. Manu looked at his advisors. Their faces were ashen. Matsya freed himself of the rope. Manu was surprised. Matsya turned. Their eyes met. Manu could read anger in them.
Before Manu could figure out what was happening, Matsya struck. With one swing of his mighty tail he upturned the boat and swam away.
A dejected and sad Manu managed to keep himself afloat. He looked around. The Peak of Victory was glistening in the sun. Matsya was just pulling up to it with the boat of some other candidate in tow.”
Having narrated the story, Vetala asked unto the common man, “O common man, I am quite surprised at the turn of events. Why did Matsya choose to sink Manu’s boat mid-stream instead of taking him to the Peak of Victory? Was he ungrateful? If you know the answer, but still stay silent, may your head split into as many pieces as there were fish in Manu’s constituency’.
The Common Man sighed again. “I knew O Vetala that you could ask me such a simple question. Let me answer you for my own sake.”
“What Matsya did was not ungratefulness but a logical consequence of Manu’s style of functioning. Manu fulfilled his obligations towards the fish of his constituency at the cost of the system. He did not serve them, he pampered them. His actions confirmed the belief in their mind that they have been helped not through rules but through exceptions and that too without any regard to eligibility or qualifications. It made them feel that it is their representative who delivers goods, not the system. Naturally, therefore, while Manu got credit for obliging a few, the large majority who did not get their due also blamed him.”
“Manu underestimated the size of Matsya. For every fish that was favoured, there were scores which were denied their due. And they blamed Manu for it. Cut off from them as he was through a net of intermediaries, Manu could not gauge the depth of their feelings nor their number. He continued to dream of a small Matsya blessing him while in reality it was a much larger Matsya seething with anger.
What Matsya did therefore, on the day of the deluge was not his ungratefulness. It was merely an expression of his anger that he rocked Manu’s boat and took the other candidate to the Peak of Victory.”
“Excellent,” remarked Vetala. But as the Common Man’s silence had been breached, he again flew back and perched himself atop the election banner.
The Common Man cast a wistful glance at him and began walking towards the polling booth. He too had to decide the fate of his Manu’s candidature.
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