THE METAMORPHOSIS ( A SHORT A DAY)
By Neel Anil Panicker
Fiinally, it seemed, he had come of age. The moth had morphed from caterpillar to butterfly and taken wings.
As he waltzed into the hall choc-o-bloc with his followers, resounding cries of Hail! Rahul, Long Live our great leader, Congress Zindabad rent the evening air, the din reaching out and resonating on every street corner all across the country.
The man himself, the centre of all attention, the cinnosure of all eyes beamed a radiant smile, his cherubic face glowing bright, turning a deep apple red.
Mighty pleased at the reception accorded to him by his growing legion of obsequious supporters, the boy-man knew that he had stolen the thunder from his detractors who had accused of being immature, a bumbling novitiate, a Amul baby who’s still tied to his venerable mother’s aprons.
And all because he was instrumental in wresting three politically vital States right from the Lion’s den.
Yes, the perpetual Prince in Waiting had taken a clear stride forward and was now ready to challenge the King.
He raised his fist and pumped the air.
The battle royal had just begun.
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