The Happy Prince

Miguel was playing with his model cars. He loved the small cars and the vibrant world his childlike mind could fabricate from just a couple of plastic figurines. The cars looked just like they did from his balcony. Or used to, before all their windscreens were being shattered by the people. None of the cars ever came that side ever since.

Miguel’s father, Luis, walked into the room, boasting that velvet tie of his. Luis Castillo was the successor to Lucas Castillo, and the current ruler of Kyrthe. Kyrthe was a small archipelago of petite islands. The country always had orange skies, and beautiful palms often clouding your view more than the clouds. But now, his father and his strict regime has made the land orange too, and the skies clouded with smoke, as riots marched across.

Miguel never enjoyed his father’s company.

“Miguel, have you ever tried soda before?” enquired Luis.

“Yes, papa. Why do you ask?”

“Well, let us just split this bottle, shall we,” Luis said, as he raised a bottle of some posh soda-esque drink with a name Miguel couldn’t process.

Luis continued, “You see, this bottle, has some relish contents in it. And this is only for us, just like this country. Now, this bottle’s cork, opens up with a pop.” He demonstrated by pulling out a gleaming golden cork-screw and opening it. The cork flew across the room, as the contents bubbled out. “As you can observe, the delicious stuff spills all out, and no one sees where the cork flew. Its forgotten. Becomes insignificant. And that’s how this nation is too.”

“The bottle is the people and this place, while we are the cork. If someone applies pressure to the cork, it goes flying out with a bang, and all the privileges we enjoyed are gone. We got forgotten. So you hold the lid tight, and make sure it doesn’t escape. Or we all go with a bang,” he explained to his son. “So do you understand?”

“Yes, but isn’t the soda sold in bottles so we share it with everyone?” asked Miguel. With a disapproving glare, his father led him to the photogenic balcony. “These people, who are polluting the roads and your private garden, are who you are going to apportion our drink to?” he questioned. “Yes, but that’s because they don’t want soda, they want access to clean water for their children and their crops, which you are holding back from them. Maybe, we should, for a change, give them what they want?” came the witty reply from Miguel.

“Yes, but I…” started Luis.

“And you forgot its our national day. You are so obsessed with yourself and catering to the western salesmen to care about the ones who trust in you. Maybe we ought to send a few people to fix the water system and network? And clean the rivers too? Wouldn’t that make grandpa proud?” Miguel retorted.

Luis stormed out of the room, his face as red as his tie. His father-son bonding hours never went well, especially with his son’s opportunistic views. Miguel couldn’t be assured his father would execute what he requested, but hoped he would, because bringing up Miguel’s grandfather always made him clement.

A third of the smoke in the air departed. Crowds returned to their lands to find water rushing back into their soil and making them fertile again. The Government trucks left the area, leaving behind cleaned waters for the people. It was a victorious day, for their lord actually had listened to their cries, though they were unsure who that lord was at that place-and-time. They washed their faces and got to work.

***********************************

Miguel didn’t expect his father could be swayed so easily. Nor did he expect an immediate response from the crowds outside. Miguel was able to turn on the taps for the first time in months, and drink water that wasn’t packaged by a private firm. It had a better taste than anything his royal chefs could have served, for the water tasted of the change approaching their land.

“Did it work?”, Luis curiously asked his son, for he was exceedingly used to hearing the explosives (from both the rioters and guards) detonating outside their grounds. There was a reduction in the sounds outside, and the tips of the palm trees became visible again.

“Yes papa, I am so proud of you!” exclaimed Miguel. It still felt like a dream. Even if it wasn’t a drastic change, it was a step towards it, at least.

Luis continued, “Well, don’t expect anymore favours. You have played well, but this…uh…skill of yours will only work at meetings or that stuff. Now I have more pressing matters to attend to. You are excused to Ms. Anita’s class. I hope you are doing good in your studies. I don’t want an heir who can’t read. Capiche?”

Now it was Miguel’s turn to storm off. His father had a point, but, realizing it, he felt a great ache for all those kids out there who didn’t have an opportunity for

education. He decided to confront his father about this once his “school day” (with a private tutor, of course) was over.

***********************************

Luis already saw that “trying to be a hero” look in his son’s eyes and prepared himself for a landslide of valid arguments. He straightened his tie and readied himself. It was always difficult to make children understand politics and the pros of his actions, yet the voice in his head always feels obliged to do the morally right stuff his son, unfortunately, must pick up.

This time, Miguel apparently had “figures” and “stats” to back him up. He had no clue where his son gets them nor how he is able to interpret them, but knew he needed to have a talk with Ms. Anita about the portions that are taught.

There was a long, elaborate exposition about how establishing Government-based education would be vital and how it also got employment for most of the learned people who are wasting their time and effort in pointless rampages. Luis waited patiently to tell “No.”, but he remembered his childhood again.

Luis remembered his father’s disposition that education was a waste and only basic skills and arsenal management was all that mattered. Becoming ruler made it hard for Luis to catch up with everything that he had failed to experience as a kid, including general knowledge. He had lovingly ensured that, at least, his son would be educated, but this meant his son often outsmarted him (like now) and had his way. The idea of more Miguels in his land somehow sounded like it might preoccupy people from annoying him, so Luis let his son have his way.

Luis left the room in a hurry. His abdomen was hurting again, and he was feeling dizzy. He hoped his son didn’t take his gesture in the wrong way, and also prayed Miguel doesn’t expect him to always be as lenient as then.

***********************************

Another large cloud of the smoke cleared up. Somewhere, out there, a youthful heart was educated that rebellion and violence wasn’t the answer to all of society’s problems. People returned home to find value for their degrees. Maybe there was hope their children would grow with books in their hands, rather than rifles.

Miguel was hurt by his father’s response. If he was going to execute something out of goodwill, at least let his son rejoice in his once-in-a-blue-moon of a deed. The way his father left in an rush made it evident that his father’s ego was more prominent than his humanity. Yet, a little part of him felt glad his father wasn’t as cold as he was. It was as thought something had changed in him…

***********************************

Life is very funny. Often we overlook small details and look at the big picture. It is very easy to make silly assumptions based on what the outline depicts, but hardly do we realize that the finer details matter the most and can completely redefine what the entire scene is trying to convey.

This is what Miguel was doing, and he noticed this a little late. When he looked out all he saw was mindless fighting between the infantry and civilians, but he never acknowledged what the people were actually fighting for. All they wanted was a government they could trust and a peaceful environment. A government that didn’t fight like them with neighbours. They had to fight for their rights, but the ruler had no reason to. It was not just the people who were at arms; multiple nations in the outskirts have raised tension against Kyrthe and its harsh rule. Sooner or later, the nation would blow up in war.

The thing that scared Miguel more than anything was the idea of his native land becoming popular for the wrong reasons. It was unfortunate that this was another thing his father lacked, since his ego had outgrown his sense of reason…until lately.

It was difficult, but it is well known that money can buy you anything. It was difficult to convince his servant that Miguel wanted to flee the royal residence, but with some of his own savings, a few promises and a few swipes beneath the table, Miguel found himself alongside the ralliers. With a clever disguise, it was clear only his father would be able to recognize him among the crowd…

*********************************

Luis was furious. His own son had turned on him! And he had the nerve to leave behind a letter of apology and directions to where he would amidst the crowd outside. Now his son was ordering him around! Luis doesn’t even let the GPS direct him, but this pinprick is?! Not to mention that he was straight up ordered to step outside with white flags soaring. Kyrthe simply must go to war with all those trying to stop him in foreign lands, whether his overweening son liked it or not.

Putting on his velvet tie, he marched out with bodyguards all around him. He was going to put it down with his rebellious son right there and then, and he was fine with international news broadcasting it (reporters were everywhere these days).

He has heard that teenagers were rebellious and fretful, but not to this extent for sure! All that pampering in the palace has made it go to the boy’s head.

The entire crowd went wild upon seeing Luis. He was sure at least one gun would be fired, and he would be the next headlines with a black-and-white portrait, but it seemed they knew better than to test their leader’s patience. He headed straight for where his heir would be standing. The crowd went silent and parted around a silly boy in a hoodie, who put it up to reveal the crown prince. Everyone was in shock and awe.

“What. Do. You. Want.” Luis gritted through clenched teeth.

“I don’t want this land. You can keep it with you. I want one I can live in without fear of people dying because of you!” screamed the boy.

“Enough is enough! You don’t order me around. This isn’t your birthday where you can wish. This is my world and you are blessed enough to inherit it from me, and you can’t answer me like this!” roared Luis.

But Luis had had enough. Enough of this earthly realm. His head was starting to spin. He suddenly saw a vision of his father again. He remembered ; before he passed away, he had promised that his grandson would have a better world than that Luis had. But the passage of time and bottling up those memories made Luis tough and emotionless. Luis was being envious of his own successor because of an old-man’s funny words. It dawned on him that, maybe, with what the crowd was witnessing, it was clear no one liked him anymore. They needed someone like Miguel to be their leader. Luis hadn’t grown old, rather, he had grown cold.

Luis retched blood. His knees buckled. Miguel rushed forward and caught him.

“Papa, what happened!” he queried loudly.

“I am sorry, but this sinful vessel of mine has lasted too long, dispensing misery to everyone. Its clear, that you are the lesson and redemption that I needed. Please, take the reigns away from me.”

“But-“ Miguel started.

“No buts! I can’t maintain this façade of strength around me. I was diagnosed few weeks ago with the same disease your father left us with, and my days were numbered. I hope these last few deeds I have done will redeem me. If not, at least everyone will be rewarded with you,” ended Luis.

With a final act of strength, he hugged his son, and announced to the world the new king of Kyrthe. The world exploded with remarks. It was clear this was one of the miraculous deeds of fate.

*********************************

“Bring me the most precious thing in the city.” Said God to one of his Angels; and the Angel hesitantly brought him the velvet tie.

“You have rightfully chosen, do not fear. For in my kingdom of heaven, it is not the existent sheep that are celebrated, but the ones that were lost and then found. He shall look over my bountiful city of Gold, while his son makes the Earthly realm a replica of my heavenly kingdom.”

Written by Rohith Narayanan

11-B