Once
upon a time, there was a colony of mites which lived under the skin, in
a city of tunnels they had dug out with the labour of their jaws. They
lived their mundane lives, sucking blood, excreting, having sex, laying
eggs, and all the other activities of mundane mite society, as their
forefathers and foremothers had done since the beginning of mite
history.
One
day, amongst the mites there suddenly arose a Leader, whose eyes, had
he had any, would have gleamed with the holy light of revelation. He
went out among the other mites, crawling vainly on their daily routine
of eating and screwing, and, climbing on a heap of detritus, he waved
his forelegs to get the general attention.
“Brothers
and sisters,” he shouted, “we spend our lives in these dark tunnels,
ignorant of all that is possible to us. There is so much to achieve,
such wonders that we the mites are capable of, that it is criminal to
waste our abilities as we are doing. It is an affront to our very
existence if we don’t make of it better use than we are doing now.”
Soon, a curious crowd of mites had gathered, wagging puzzled antennae.
“In what way do you mean?” one asked. “How should we use our lives, as you say, in a more meaningful way?”
“There’s
a world to explore,” the Leader said. “A world for the mite race to
take and use as it sees fit, for its own benefit, and for its spiritual
betterment. The spirit dies if confined to gloomy caves like ours, with
nothing to occupy us but feeding and fornication. Follow me out into the
world, where we can achieve great things.”
“But,
Great Leader,” said one of the other mites, “what of the dangers of the
world outside, dangers we are wholly unfamiliar with and which we are
completely unable to counter?”
Then
the Leader smiled and raised his antennae solemnly, blessing the
gathered crowd. “Come with me,” he said. “Follow me out of these dank
caverns, and whatever we find outside, we shall grow and fulfil our
potential, which the Mighty Mite has imbued us with, and free us from the blind crawling we are condemned to endure from the moment we hatch to the time we die.”
And
many of the mites acclaimed the Leader, and said that he was filled
with the spirit of the Mighty Mite Himself; but others, older and more
reactionary, grumbled.
“You
are a visionary,” they said, “and visionaries are fools. If you go
outside, the light will burn your skin, the cold will chill you to the
core, and you will surely starve.”
“The Mighty Mite will save us,” the Leader countered. “He tells me what to do, and will make sure we come to no harm.”
“You
commit heresy,” the old reactionaries said. “If the Mighty Mite had
wanted us to leave our warm dark burrows, where we have all we could
ever need, He would have put us where He wanted us. Obviously, it is His
plan that we remain where we are, and that this city of ours is the
best of all possible worlds, and the way we mites have always lived, the
best possible of all lives.”
In
response, the Leader merely shook his august head. "The Mighty Mite has
sent me,” he said, “to help all the mites to fulfil their destiny.
Therefore, anything I do cannot be heresy.”
But
the conservative old mites muttered and threatened, and warned the
others not to listen to the Leader, for they said he would surely bring
disaster down on them all. Besides, they said he was equating himself
with the Mighty Mite, than which there could be no greater blasphemy.
“The next thing you know, he’s going to say he
is the Mighty Mite Himself,” the old mites proclaimed. “And that will
provoke the Great One’s wrath, than which there can be no greater fury
in all of the Universe.”
And so the Leader saw plainly that it would be of no use to attempt to persuade them further.
“Come
with me,” he said to his followers, “and pay no heed to the mutterings
of those of weak will and fearful heart, and of those who are sunk in
their slothful ways. The future belongs to those who are brave and bold,
and to them alone.” So saying, he crawled out of the caverns
under the skin and into the great world outside, and his disciples
trooped out after him.
And
the bright light burned their skin, and the cold chilled them to the
core, until they could scarcely move, and there was no blood to drink.
There were only hairs to cling on to, and they clung on tight.
“Great
Leader,” the mites cried out, holding on tight to the hair, “we are
cold and starving, and the light makes our skin shrivel. Great Leader,
tell us what to do.”
Then
the Leader said, in his wisdom, “Let go of your grip on the hair, and
trust in me, for the spirit of the Mighty Mite fills me, and I know
what to do.” So they let go of their grip on the hair, and fell to the
ground, and were trampled down and crushed until none were left.
Except, that is, for the Leader, who crawled into a crevice and cursed
them all, those who had followed as well as those who had not, for
having failed him.
And,
lo, the portals through which the Leader and his band had emerged from
their city under the skin lay open, for they had scorned to close them;
and they who remained with knew their fate, and congratulated themselves
for having escaped, and for remaining in their dark warm burrows where
there was nothing to do but what mites had done since the beginning of
time; and, gathering all together, they thanked the Mighty Mite for
having saved them.
While they were thus joined in prayer together, a flood of permethrin ointment came down the burrows and killed them all.
And
then, of all the denizens of the great mite city, only the Leader was
left. At the end of a long search, crawling over dead and living things
without number, he found skin, and eventually, he came down a burrow
till he reached another city of mites. Climbing on to a pile of tissue
debris, he waved his forelimbs about to get everyone’s attention.
“I am come in
the name of the Mighty Mite,” he called out, and watched with
satisfaction as heads turned and antennae trembled. “I am come," he
said, "to lead the mite race towards the fruition of our manifest
destiny.”
Already, a crowd had begun gathering.
Copyright B Purkayastha 2012
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