A Park by the Street

Our Queeny dear is in the Royal Mess, as this is to be, from now on, her official residence. Any Royal, once diagnosed with foot-in-mouth disease, has traditionally and irrevocably been banished by the Parliament of Owls to that coveted address, following the two-hooting convention. Henceforth the Royal Court shall be held at the Courtyard and shall be a far merrier affair than the mess that it was, while being conducted at that wretched Redyard so far. The Mess has been refitted befitting her Supreme Status. All ghosts have been barred from entry without proving their debtly credentials. So has been the living, either vitiated, violated or a victim. A Special Protection Team has been deployed around the Mess, and I tell you, with such experts in expletives, that even the most dreadful would find themselves wanting in ammunition, when the need arises. The air in the garden has been imported in crested sacks from her favourite hills and the fauna from that    dreaded jungle she so aspires to hunt in with her hounds some day. And the log gates of the great barrage has off course been repaired to feed the canal that run through. The sole trouble has been with All The Queen's Men though, being too fond of their present predicament, they are in deep dilemma whether to move in with her or show their undying loyalty by some other means. One man in uniform has decisively decided to be her chaperon, or may be it is the other way round, but that seems to be an exception for now. We, as loyal subjects, held a candle light vigil to pray that her stay in her new abode be comfortable and that she may happily live there till the rags wear out. The intellectuals, shame be upon them, were strangely missing from such a important congregation. Meanwhile though her detractors charged full steam with their Twilight Brigade today, blocking right of passage right through the Queen's Capitol, her grass root empathisers were far from being either outwitted or outnumbered. Imagine all this happening in a day ! Long live our Queeny !  And long live the Court Jester, her soul companion (where change is  the sole constant) !  Long live the Owls too !