When I was in sixth standard, believe it or not, I was selected as one of the two class monitors on account of my academics and some good behavior. Whenever the teacher went out for a moment, we two used to write names of those people on chalkboard whoever made a noise. Prerna, the girl monitor used to pick only boys' names to write, and I used to return the due favor on behalf of my brethren. It went like a delightful drill, until one day I broke the bro code.
One day Ravi, the biggest, baddest and bulkiest boy in our class broke into an argument with a squirrel like tiny Hina. Their harmless verbal ripostes escalated to unsavory personal remarks and within no time they both were clutching at each others' hair. As the class monitor, I stepped in to catch hold of a terribly violent Ravi and dragged him away from Hina with an effort. As I yelled at him for hitting a girl, he saw Prerna cunningly writing his name on board but skipping Hina's. And Ravi turned into Hulk once more. Earlier, he was perhaps at least pulling out his punches not to injure Hina severely. No such mercy was considered for me sadly. I too had lost my own composure by this time, and tried to hit him back whatever the my skinny self could manage. A full fledged WWE- TLC (table-ladder-chair) match began between The Big Show and Ray Mysterio without any referee this time. And just when one of us (but you know which one) would have choke-slammed the other, Mr. McMahon... sorry, Madhumita madam entered and pulled both of us apart with our ears. I don't know which one of us (but you know which one) hit her accidentally in the face by a heavy elbow that made her face ruby red. Was it just swelling or seething anger, I couldn't surely say. But what I do remember is that she made us both stand outside the class with our hands raised. And the next day, she replaced me from this glamorous post of class monitor, much to my chagrin.
What made her lose trust in me though? I was just being a good class monitor, wasn't I?
I remember another funny story from the treasure troves of Panchatantra- "the monkey with a sword".
A noble king once had a pet monkey whom he trained to swing a fan for him while he slept in the afternoon. The monkey too adored his master very much and swung the fan for him daily. One day, while the king slept, a fly flew in and sat over his stomach. The monkey swooshed it away. The incorrigible fly zinged back over his shoulder. The annoyed monkey flipped it away once again. But the fly kept whizzing around and sitting over him again and again. The monkey had had enough shortly and this time, when the fly landed on the king's throat, the obedient pet drew his master's sword placed near the pillow and swung it to kill the fly once and for all. Off came the king's head in one clean stroke.
Power, in any form, is attractive, alluring, even addictive at times. Power makes most feel instantly gratified, helps some become responsible gradually, and inspires a handful to commit some actual good over a lifetime. Some men earn it through sheer sweat, while some fat whales in the ocean chance upon a lightening strike.
But here is a thing about power if history teaches us anything:
Power mandates its wielder to respect it.
It is like playing with the fire. The fire can provide light, warmth and protection in the woods alright. But if mishandled, it can raze the whole jungle down as well.
A sword becomes catastrophic in the hands of a pet monkey who doesn't quite respect the sharpness of blade.
I played with fire as a class monitor myself when I promoted partiality and lost my own composure. I deserved to be stripped off of that minuscule power.
You can easily observe a lot of people wandering around with their pet monkeys wielding some sort of power or the other, can't you?- a government, a community, an organization, a family, an individual. If you could think of any personal, professional incident, or are following the current political scenario of our country in the recent times, you know what I am talking about.
How to spot the monkey with a sword?
To spot one, this is what you should probably do. Take a look to your left. Then look to your right. If you are unable yet to spot someone with this monkey, look into the mirror. Do you see it now? Do you see the sword it wields?
Those distasteful religious views you posted on social media; that fake video forwarded-as-received on the WhatsApp groups; that unverified rumor you just heard and passed on at your work-space; a cuss word you so easily hurled around small kids without even noticing; the fake receipts filed for a reimbursement or saving tax return; that one time you could have actually stopped your vehicle to help a helpless accident victim; those regrettable words spoken to a loved one in a momentary fit of rage-
Your influence- financial, hierarchical, social, moral, personal- becomes the sword your monkey gets its hands on. It swings it like a sharp sword without any accountability and restraint. Listed above are some wounds I could think of, that my monkey has cut deep in my life while I was asleep. But now that I have awakened, it's high time I put a leash on it. What are you planning about yours?