IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 128 — FABLE OF THE GULF Brig PS Gothra (Retd)

    Once upon a time, there was a lion in the jungle. Very powerful. Almost a hegemon. The other animals respected him—some out of fear, some out of habit.

    The lion had an interesting system. He shared two “toilets” with the rest of the jungle. One was called NATU, where a group of sheep stayed. The other was called  GULF used by a bunch of white rabbits. Both sheep and rabbits considered themselves modern, progressive, and secure. But deep inside, they carried a quiet discomfort. Because after finishing his business, the lion would casually pick up one of them… and use it to clean himself like a toilet paper. It was humiliating. But it came with a guarantee—security. And security, in a dangerous jungle, often comes at a price.

    In the jungle lived a fox. Clever. Extremely clever. The fox was under constant existential  threat. Survival for him was not comfortable—it was a daily struggle. He knew one thing very clearly:

He cannot persuade the Lion to directly get into his fight of survival. So he decided to play a different game. Nearby lived a porcupine.

Not fast. Not dominant. As most of the rabbits didn’t like it and  the Lion had pushed it to a corner for years. But it had one unique strength—quills. Sharp, painful, and very effective when touched.

    One day, the fox noticed that the lion was intoxicated with the potion called Winezuela, something that had already clouded his judgment before. The fox saw an opportunity. He quietly manoeuvred the porcupine into the space where the lion usually picked up rabbits. The lion didn’t notice. Habit is a powerful thing. He picked up the porcupine… and used it. That’s when things went wrong.

     The quills went where they should never go. The lion roared. In pain. In anger. In disbelief. He called his advisors. The advisors were experienced. Calm. Reassuring.

     They said, “Your Majesty, there is nothing to worry about. Look closely—half of the porcupine’s quills are already gone. It is weaker now.”

    The lion relaxed. It sounded logical. He came on media to say that Porcupine is almost finished. But the story was just beginning. The porcupine did not attack directly. It didn’t need to. Instead, it began showering its quills on the rabbits.

    Slowly, discomfort spread. Nothing was collapsing—but nothing was comfortable either.

    And then came the real turning point. Due to the injuries, there was excessive swelling. As a result the passage got blocked. The Gas started building up. It became smelly. The world is getting choked of the smell. The rabbits panicked. The animals across the Arabian Sea, the Indian Ocean and the Mediterranean ocean are feeling the stink.

     The fox watched. Slightly amused. He understood something the lion did not. This was never a fight to win. This was a fight to disturb balance.

The lion finally began to reflect. Where had he gone wrong? In confronting the porcupine? Or getting intoxicated with Winezuela?

It dawned on him, rather late, that the porcupine was not trying to defeat him. It was simply ensuring that no one in the jungle could remain at ease.

And there was another uncomfortable truth. The lion was powerful. But he was also a prisoner of his own habits.