THE TINY, TINY, TINY 1947

The year of 1947 was obviously a very important milestone in the history of India. India attained freedom in this year. But, what most people didn’t realize was that another country had also gained freedom around this time (no, not Pakistan, dummy).

It was the country of the Lesser Insects. They were being oppressed by the Insects of the Higher Order, just as the British oppressed Indians. Martyrs and heroes of the human world and the insect world had the same names, excepting a few changes, like Buggat Singh.

Buggat Singh was inspired from the start—his uncles were also freedom fighters. Everyone knows Bhagat Singh’s story—threw a bomb into Parliament—disrupted the functions, was taken to court, convicted guilty of his crime and finally, hanged. That is exactly what happened to Buggat Singh, the pint sized martyr.

My point is that he died a hero. When he was being hanged, a cry ran through every street (if the insect world has streets) “INQUILAB ZINDABAD!” He took freedom fighting to another level, but this story doesn’t start with Buggat Singh’s death. It starts with deaths of many other innocent insects, so rewind to when Buggat was a teenager with a dream to fight for his country’s freedom.

The Jallian Wala Bug massacre brought fear into every insect residing in the country of the Lower Insects. The massacre showed how ruthless and cold hearted the Insects of the Higher Order were, and why no one should rise against them.

(Its fine, isn’t it? A handful of Lower Insects revolt and General Dyer kills thousands of unarmed insects. Not retarded at all. Nope. Not at all.)

A few years after the massacre, Buggat Singh entered the Jallian Wala Bug, and collected the mud from the ground, which had dried blood on it.

(I would love to tell you that he took the blood samples and checked out the DNA, like a regular science student, but that isn’t what happened and I’m still wondering how to finish this story without boring you completely.)

He stood on that spot, where thousands of innocent bugs had died, holding the blood-stained mud, and vowed that he will avenge these people; the country of the Lower Insects will attain independence.

He fought for freedom, like we have seen above and then, he was hanged.

Then, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi entered the scene. The young bug who decided never to lie again, the barrister from Africa, the insect in simple white khadi cloth, full of notions of freedom, peace, satyagraha and non violence.

Around the same time, Subash Chandra Bugs had formed the Indian National Army. He believed the exact opposite of what Gandhi believed—freedom can only be attained by war. He wanted to drive the Insects of the Higher Order out of this country. He wanted to slaughter them in droves and send them back in fear, so that they never think of attacking India again.

TRRRRINGGGGG!

The bell rang, and the English teacher addressed his students, who had fallen asleep, “We’ve done a lot of work today, students. Don’t you people think this is an exquisite piece of writing . . .”

 

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