There was a young girl who grew up in a poor household. She knew she was beautiful but as she was poor, no one looked at her. Then one day, she realized there were many other beautiful girls out there but there were very few who, at a very young age, acted like a lady. She thought of this for a long time. One day, under the tall bamboo tree near her poor house, she came up with a prayer. It began with the line “Be the lady first/Pray for us. She repeated the line over and over until all the other words disappeared and what remained were these three magic words: The Lady First.
It was this trait of being a Lady that separated her from the allure of other young girls. One day, she left her small town and went to the big city. There, with the wealthier relatives, she became even more ladylike.
In the big city, with no one knowing what she was really like back in her small village, the young lady started to learn how to sing. She was not a good singer but as she was lovely and ladylike, and people were seduced to forget her flaws.
One day, the young lady met a young man from the North. Brown-skinned and intelligent, the man was what the young lady often saw in her dreams. There was something in the man that the young lady was missing in her. What it was, she could not say.
The man pampered the young lady so much that each day, the young lady kept thinking about her prayer, “First the lady/Pray for us.”
One night, when the moon was pale for all its lies to lovers, the man confessed to the lady his dream, his ambition: I want to rule this earth. The lady listened. She was waiting for more words from her man. The man, however, was quiet. The lady looked intently at the man, her eyes seemed to be asking for answers when, in fact, there were no questions. The man then said, as if continuing a line that was inadvertently cut: When that day comes, I want you to be the first person beside me.
The lady looked at the moon. The moon, the lady would tell her friends years later, glared at her as if the moon read in her face. The lady’s face was indeed saying something. She knew what words they were she kept dreaming about. The lady first was the First Lady. She would be the First Lady of the Land.
Years and years after that moonlit night, the man became the King of the Land. The lady, as a matter of course, became the Queen, or some kind of Queen. But the man reminded her about the story of the land. We have no queens, my dear, but I will make you the First Woman, the First Lady of the land.
They ruled the land for so many years. As if ominous, that moonlit night, with the lies above, would soon be the life of the King and his Lady, a night and day of lies. They thrived on lies. For the lies kept the people happy. The more lies the couple told the people, the happier the people became.
The Lady, being First now, had many plans and dreams. She dreamt of building homes for the Spirit of the people. The people used to her lies were so happy with this plan. Little did they know that the temple that would house the Spirit of the people would incarcerate them for years.
But the Lady was astute. She was not that intelligent but she was cunning, dreaming every day of things that would keep her people happy.
She came up with a huge plan. She would reward all artists—writers, dancers, painters, pottery-makers, dreammakers, shoemakers, carpenters, meteorologists who could predict lightning and thunderstorms, and poets who manufacture pretty lies in rhythm and blues. Then she started building more shrines and temples to arts.
But each day she was becoming unhappier. She bought arts—paid dancers and singers, acquired paintings and pots—and still she was getting more depressed.
One night, she asked her husband: Why don’t you declare the death of freedom. Maybe, if our people were not allowed to move anymore, maybe they would invent new movements. Maybe, if we did not allow our singers to sing, maybe they would find more good songs to sing. Maybe, if we stopped people from dreaming, they would manufacture all kinds of dreams.
Indeed, one morning, the people woke up to the news that freedom had died. The people used to lies did not understand the news. What to do? Do we bury freedom? If we don’t bury freedom, will not the world stink?
Indeed, these thoughts went on and on. The people just went on thinking for 10, for 20 years. They went on thinking even as their neighbors were being whisked off to caves and cemeteries. They went on thinking even as hunger spread throughout the land. The lady had a cure for these maladies. She would tell the people to look at her, for she was beauty and good and true.
Today, those people are still thinking. The Lady is still a Lady but she is already old. She does not know what to do with herself. She wants to kill herself but the people would not allow that. They believe that if the Lady dies, the world will also die. This is one of the famous lies of the lady. The Lady even offered to live in a secluded place like a prison but the people just love her to allow her to be isolated.
Today, the Lady does not know how to tell the people that they have been living in lies. She does not know anything. She stares out into the horizon, her face as round as the moon, her neck not as graceful anymore as that of the swan, her soul condemned to live in lie and sadness forever.
The Lady is imprisoned in her own evil and the only way to goodness is to think freely. The problem is she killed freedom many years ago, one crazy, silly moonlit night.
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Image credits: Jimbo Albano