Sound like yesterday but he has been on exile for ages. There has not been much thorough communication with distant loved ones ever since he has started organizing his selfless gathering.

Every victory and fame is not forever and they are not entitled to be the beacons in every society except that they remain legends in their vulnerable fashion. At the prime of his fame the unfriendly telephone call shoots him down like a looming rival.

Daddy's relentless life has been taken away in an ambush when a group of disgruntled guerrillas ambushed his motorcade. There will be a Joint Action Committee and economic blockade and then rapid fire condemnations.

There will also be clarification by a revolutionary organization through a masked man briefing the bandaged media, who have escaped the wrath of the jumpy Indian army.

The heir is summoned and that summon has shaken him up. Everyone mourns for his daddy and him too.

His homecoming is conceived as a sign of good omen and people who followed his old man rally after him and they appoint him unanimously as the successor to his daddy's stained throne.

It has been a while he has woken up and by now he has realized the power that has been ordained to him. The fantasy that remained absorb in stony-smoky air is to be released and a new structure is to replace the monolithic but anachronistic political institution.

His coronation coincides with indefinite economic blockade orchestrated by the Army of Lord which is run by some Europe-based lords.

Confrontation of this type is utter insane, however, this entire world is built on the blood and flesh of many and the very few, we, are the benefactors, and that reduces him to a toothless tiger with blunt claws. They Lord Army have been assigned to revive the acrimonious past for a powerful and pounding vengeance while taxing the grumbling trucks, sometimes burning the goods-laden truck to warm them and clear out the fog in the middle of the no man's slippery land manned by Kalasnikov-laden lordy fighters.

Perhaps it is despicable to him but it is the harsh reality that has been forced down through the throat of commoners. Dumbfounded he is when he sees them swallow that harsh reality without any sign of protestation and no expression of guilt among the enforcers.

When everybody is happy with their karma and there are suppressible displays of dissatisfaction it would be rather credulous on his part to intervene in the daily wailing affair of the people. That is his unique and impersonal stance as being the head of a modern state which has been running backward in its fastest speed to outpace the other forward moving systems.

It has been a while after his sympathetic coronation there is much to be accomplished and a lot to be ignored. His undermined accomplishment has generated the exodus of massive zonked off youngsters who leave the reddish state to learn how to exude the aura that their cult guru exuded and perhaps to refashion a new life.

Some get lucky and some are waylaid.

For those who have been waylaid the absorbing new-found home gives the true meaning of karma and the path to salvation or nirvana.

An innocent lad becoming a drug dealer and ignorant many being betrayed by the system can be justified since it is their karma and those who are not karmic suffer and become pariahs in this globalize society.

Who are they to protest against this and that when the walking-body that you carry is just a shroud in the human form with no spirit inside. There is bliss which gives their ignorance a reason for its very existence and when there is a reason why do you have to labour to find another reasonable reason.

I have long been zonked off and it seems like this story of mine is a long-hauling one just sneaking out from my smoked up mind. I am just groping for my way home but am stuck amid all these recollections of mine.

After having jotted down my recollection will my sheep admire me more? If they admire then my bliss sired by my ignorance will short-live and that momentary sight sends a shudder down my spine.

Oh! It is not that easy to be a zonker.

Concluded...