The Royal Brook

We have said “the story is like the one we are working on” in which the wazir stands between the king and his people. This is what trans-passed on the day the royal brook streamed by our city.

The scene was the now familiar touristic artistic attraction in which kings mix among the people in search of inspiration and knowledge. Of late, this has become more and more common if not exactly the same than exactly similar. On this day, the royal brook was pristine blue, flowing slowly but smoothly along the edges of the people.

The king arrived disguised as an equal. The wazirs – a company of comedians – arrived having plotted (as all good wazirs do) – in royal trust – a path filled with rocks and hard places. The people were in place, desperate for approval and recognition from the never-seen and hardly-known king. They did their best to play the hosts in the style they value most which proved unworkable as the wazirs had over-planned, over-peopled, and under-valued. They had lost this value as it did not fit royal protocol. We asked “why would a king give so few seconds to truth if his truth was to meet the people?” We do not know. We obeyed. The king watched and spoke in whispers. He improvised with time as the seconds passed and the people tried to present themselves or at least to take in that the king was visiting.

A king must trust his team of wazirs, those he knows, those he understands, those who understand royalty and the royal schedule. What king would walk the streets without advisors, guards, consultants, horsemen, archers, foot soldiers, body guards, spokespersons, or entertaining slaves? We had to understand. There was no true conversation although the king speaks of truth. The people try. They have never met a king…

… to say nothing of the royal witch. We asked “why does a king need a witch” and we said that perhaps she protects the king from the wazirs who, as we all know, are not 100% trustworthy. The royal visit ended. The slaves followed politely behind have obediently performed all tasks required. The witch disappeared according to her title. The wazirs were divided – as they always are – between those who would travel in the royal coach and those who had to walk. And the people sighed that the somewhat ridiculous visit was over and they could go back to their lives and proceed to the lunch of lamb stuffed with rice and nuts.

June 8, 2006
Hebron