Since childhood, I’ve had this one megalomaniacal thought – forget big, fancy cars or large mansions or palaces – I have always wanted to rule the world, or atleast a small nation with a few million inhabitants. Well, a small fiefdom would also have sufficed. The underlying idea was simple – to have to have subservient minions, pandering to my ego! And even at this ripe old age of eighty four, I am unable to rid myself of that admitedly stupid idea!
Not getting peace of mind, I thought of retiring to my farmhouse to find respite. So promptly, I arrived there.
Came night, I fell asleep. The good Lord appeared in my dreams and knowing my wish, He offered to make me Queen bee in my next birth, lording it over thousands of other bees in a large honeycomb. A Queen bee? I protested! Getting screwed and laying thousands of eggs was not my cup of tea.
How about a Queen ant, then, He persevered? To rule over a huge ant hill, with not mere thousands, but millions of ants working for you, all under your command. Far too proud of being a part of the male species, I was again appalled and requested He consider something else for me.
By now, even God ran out of patience at my petulant demands. Looking at my skeletal physique (and completely overlooking my imagined potency) He said, you fool, you’re not even fit to be the stud bull in a small farm. Humiliating as this was, He further pronounced that because of my idiocy, I was only destined to be reborn as a jackass!
And even as I screamed a loud nooooooo! in my sleep, I was awoken by the celebratory braying of passing donkeys.