Bingle Bog
became silent instantly. All the animals and birds were stunned into silence by
a strange music. They were all used to the croaking of the bullfrog so far. The
frog croaked away day and night and called it ‘The Voice of the Heart’. The
frog considered himself the King of the Bog.
It was then
that the nightingale appeared on the banyan tree and started singing. The
nightingale soon became a sensation in the Bog. All the animals and birds
gravitated towards the banyan tree to listen to the nightingale’s songs.
“You sing
quite well, you know,” the Frog said to the Nightingale when the singing
stopped.
“Oh, thank you
so much,” said the Nightingale. “It’s so kind of you.”
“You know me?”
Frog was a little surprised in spite of himself. He had come wearing his latest
suit gifted by a bhakt. His name was embossed in gold on the coat.
“Oh, who doesn’t
know you ji?” Nightingale said without concealing her admiration. “You are the
great king of this Bog, the hero of heroes, the champion of champions, the
warrior of warriors, the guardian of the Bog’s culture and tradition, the
defender of its gods and totems...”
“I am also a
connoisseur of music, you know.”
“Oh! Yet you
say I sing well. I’m flattered ji. Thank you, thank you.”
“But your
music lacks focus, you know. Without focus, music has no strength.”
Soon Frog
became Nightingale’s instructor. Frog issued tickets to those who wished to
listen to Nightingale. The price of the tickets went higher and higher day by
day because of GST and Cess and Toll and whatever else that Frog chose to call
it. “It is all for your future welfare,” Frog told the Bogians through his
Voice of the Heart. The Bogians had immense faith in their king.
Nightingale
sang different tunes under Frog’s instruction. Tunes with focus. But the
Bogians began to lose interest in the new songs. They began to grumble on
Facebook and WhatsApp and other social media.
Frog shouted
at Nightingale. “You lousy bird! Your focus! Your focus!”
Frog taught
Nightingale to focus. Day and night, Nightingale went through the yogic
practices given by Frog. Day and night. Week after week.
Nightingale
lost her voice finally. Lost her life.
She died.
‘Beti Bachao
Beti Padhao’ posters emerged soon all over the Bog.
The Bogians
once again got used to posters and slogans and Frog’s croaks.
:)
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