The land of plenty, the land they called bliss - was awash with discord, sweeping away the grand old milkman in a veritable spate of spit.
"What is happening, my friend?" the layman asked, perplexed. "Why are they fighting, when there's so much of prosperity, enough and to be spared?"
"Who said prosperity leads to contentment?" his friend replied. "That's a myth propagated by economists to hoodwink and divert the masses. How can they afford to surrender the supremacy of materialism - and their own - to a bunch of sadhus or sufis preaching about material affluence not being everything?"
"You mean, even if milk flows like water, there will be no peace?"
"Precisely. It's all a question of power, my dear. Plenty of milk there may be, but the authority that orders that milk to flow is limited. And, you know, where there's rationing - whether it's bread or power - there's bound to be in-fighting."
"Then, is there no solution?"
"Actually, it's quite simple. Authority being limited, some have to sacrifice it in favour of others. But that's easier said than done. Who wants to give up power? Authority brings with it followers with offerings of 'butter' and rare is the wise one who realises a surfeit of it around him can make it very slippery!"
"Why, in that case, plenty of people are there to prevent him from slipping and making a fool of himself."
"What? And forego such a delightful source of malicious entertainment? No, sir, the heavier he falls, the better for the people watching! They even go so far as to put a mole to gather luscious malice."
"Yes, an insider who can leak to them the gory details of the vicious fight."
"How sad! In the land of plenty, there's purity of content in butter but no purity of contentment."
"Well, that's the real world for you. Khushwant Singh it was who put his finger right on its pulse. Remember his column 'With malice towards one and all'?"
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