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The order

Chapter 1.
The order


This is a story about a maverick government officer who was unlike any.
He was driven with passion for his pledge not pennies.

A pledge that all took, but few followed
At the feet of powerful did most find grounds hallowed.

The pledge was a looking glass that made everyone seem equal.
And justice was a given, not a mirage of ‘coming soon’ sequel.

But alas, the real world was none too congruent.
And the supposed builders of bridges of equality were playing truant.

When the majority abdicates its duties and a few uphold the ideal,

the mirror of the truth is sought to be sabotaged and its shard are used to kill.

Normality is enforced and differences are annihilated.
Opinions are agreed upon and beamed down into gullible brains emaciated.

The hero of our story was no idealistic zealot
he was just a human, and felt for his lot.
His conscience was not squeaky clean
but questioning that conscience was his daily scene.

It was just one such day, when his boss asked him to go to jungles
he smiled and accepted, while rest of his colleagues mumbled.

For you see, the jungle was uncertain and dark
and had people with differences stark.
They saw no TV and wore no ties
they were happy, and said no lies.

The mainstream were very afraid of them,
for they had hurt the jungle men,
and feared a backlash anytime soon,
but the jungle men were sanguine and never took the way of goons.

Their happiness met with mainstream’s scorn
their peace thwarted with force and brawn.

Our hero was a tehsildar and he thought it his duty to serve the jungle people too
while rest dithered and didn’t approve.

They thought in terms of ‘us’ and ‘them’
being both humans, was not enough for them.

They wanted the jungle men to leave the jungle to the corporate
who would kill and maim and extract what was immensurate.

The wood, the life, the soil, the sky
were all but objects ready to fly
to distant shores
for profit of crores
of which jungle men wanted nothing
for these things were not mere ‘things’ for them
These were a living breathing home to them

‘What kind of a person, sells his home and family for a trinket?’ they would ask.
‘What kind of a person, does not sell anything for new shiny things?’ wondered the mainstream.

Drunk on consumption, hazy eyed people
saddled with alien culture, mainstream’s will was a cripple

Having long been slaves to the white men
they knew nothing of will and had dimmed ken

So when our hero left for the jungle,
they hoped for him to make a big bungle.
They feared he would come back alive
and deny them the privilege of righteous malice

(to be continued in chapter 2. 'The journey')

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