The story below is purely fictitious, with no resemblance to anything or anyone whatsoever.
Three long years he had waited for his new parliament to be completed. At long last the great doors had been flung open and in he had walked with all the pomp and glory he had been dreaming about for the last three years.
Priests showered flower petals and holy water on him, and the people chanted “O-di! O-di! O-di!” as he walked in holding … a sceptre!
What a stroke of genius that sceptre had been! What a perfect touch to a grand coronation? For what is a king, after all, without a sceptre?
Prime minister, shrime-minister, all that was now a thing of the past, just like democracy-shmemocracy. He was now … EMPEROR! With a sceptre.
The big day now done, Odi carefully laid his precious sceptre next to him and stretched out on his king-sized bed. As he rolled over, he heard a loud, “CAREFUL!”
Odi sprang up and stood against his bedroom wall. Who was that? He looked around the room, wide-eyed.
“Who… who’s there??” he shouted.
Immediately, the security barged in.
“Everything OK, sir?”
Odi, plastered against the wall, stared at the guards for a long moment and said, “Er… yes… I was just … stretching.”
The guards nodded and backed out of the room.
Odi exhaled slowly, wondering what the hell had just happened, and tip-toed back into bed. As he lay down tentatively and grasped his precious sceptre, once again he heard the voice.
“Owwwww!! Gentle!!”
Odi screamed and sprang out of the bed again. Once again, the security barged in.
“Everything OK, sir?” they repeated.
Wide-eyed, Odi glared at them, not quite knowing what to say.
“I’m just .. doing … Hastottanasana. Get out!”
Security backed out slowly and shut the door.
Odi thought he was going mad. He looked around. There was no one there.
He lay down a third time and as he did, the voice said, “Don’t yell please, you’re making me quite nervous.”
It was…the sceptre! The sceptre had just spoken!
Odi suppressed a scream and stared wide-eyed at the object.
“Who…what…?”
“Yes, that was me,” the sceptre said. “You almost lay down on me!”
“But sceptres can’t speak!!” Odi hissed, taking care to keep his voice low, lest security barge in again a third time.
“This one can”, the sceptre responded.
Odi stared at the inanimate object. Was he losing his mind?
The sceptre, sensing Odi’s reluctance to converse, continued, “Frankly I feel quite out of place in this ‘new temple of democracy’ as you call it. I think you have carried the figure of speech a little too far. It’s either a temple or it’s a democracy. It can’t be both! I belong in the museum with my other artefact friends. Would you please be so kind as to return me to my former resting place please?”
Odi stared. The sceptre continued.
“It’s all been rather traumatic for me, all this media attention and discussion and censure and debate. I am a private thing and I really don’t like to be paraded around so publicly. But no one ever listens. Except that last prime minister back in 1947. He was kind enough not to hang on to me.”
The sceptre paused.
“The last thing I want is to be put in that holder behind the speaker’s chair. So I will be grateful if you could kindly return me to the museum. That is, frankly, where I belong.”
“And what if I refuse?” said Odi, not used to being told what to do.
“Then I’ll start singing. Loudly! And how embarrassing that’s going to be for you, especially during a session.”
And as if to prove it was quite serious, it began singing loudly.
“Put me up, put me down
Put my feet back on the ground
Put me up, fill my heart and make me happy
Ya-ya-ya coco jamboo, ya-ya yeah
Ya-ya-ya coco jamboo, ya-ya yeah”
“Shhhhhhhh,” hissed Odi! “You’ll have security come back in here again!”
But it was too late. The guards had already opened the door a crack and stuck their head in.
“Nice singing, sir.”
Odi glared and said, “Thank you.”
Security gently closed the door again.
“So. What’s it going to be?” said Sceptre, sensing it now had the upper hand.
Odi knew he had been outmanoeuvred.
The sceptre never appeared in parliament again.