Devil's quest and bird's nest

I can't help but feel the surge of euphoria that threatens to overpower me as I strut around like a megalomaniac dictator. 

Naomi can be fined for refusing to attend press conferences, Djokovic could be penalized for throwing a racquet, but to paraphrase the words of Dhamku Potliwala - the actual name of the wolf from the three little pigs, "Your opinion will not ruffle even the hair on my chinny-chin-chin. You can huff and you can puff, but I'll throw you out."

As the group admin of a WhatsApp group, I have been laying down commandments on messages that I will allow on the group. The bourgeoisie tries once in a while to rebel but I quell it by the simple expedient of not dignifying it with a response.

I have finally understood what it is to be powerful- to decide the rules and hold sway. Oh! The joy of smiling sweetly while others genuflect before me. If they ask for something that I am willing to oblige, I gracefully acknowledge them, else, I ignore them. 

This, I have learned at the feet of others who have trodden this path to greatness. The idea is to look reasonable, to appear as if you are letting everyone have a voice. But of course, it's only my opinion that counts. 

Some might argue that years of dealing with my powerlessness have made me more cutthroat. I am not one of those who can quell opposition by just a fierce glance. I need to shout and gesticulate loudly and mostly ineffectually. It's a tiresome burden to carry. 

Emboldened by my newfound power. I ordered my children to cut the ghastly sprouts on their skulls. It looks like a bird's nest and I worry that the red-crested bulbuls might decide to make a nest there. If the kids were to then carelessly lie down, the eggs would drop, and then who will deal with all the mess? So I emphatically told them they needed a haircut. But they just ignored me. This feeling of power waxes and wanes. Someone give me my phone and I will throw in a new diktat!

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