chapter 1

The deepest fear we have is not about our weakness, it’s about our strength. It is the light within us – Not the darkness – which scares us more then everything. We are asking ourselves – What right do I have to be bright, beautiful. Talented or beloved? Actually – what right do we have not to? To minimize your light so it does not shadow others is not the way. Our light is allowing others to shine; A fearless existence will release others from their own fears.

(Nelson Mandela)
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First part – The contract

“I’m going to Israel in a royal mission” says the king “to incite people…”

When Badulina’s king was telling me that he and the Queen are going to visit Israel officially, I knew it is time to close my place in India and to join them as an escort reporter.

Few years ago I quit my journalist career for not-satisfying me, but this? A real king visiting Israel and I’m the only one that knows? India or not. Trust me to know which is the buttery side of my chapatti

The royal couple entered my restaurant on a sunny day, near the end of The Monsoon season. He was wearing old jeans and purple T-shirt. She was raped in a long white dress. Ever since I have watched them entering other restaurants several times: They approach the best places knowing that a spot is saved for them.

Every one knows that the best corner in the “Blue-Heaven” restaurant is table No. 5. No tables there – just carpet and cushions. The royal couple can arrive there on a crowded night without any preview announcement and on their way to their seats at “table No. 5” everyone will greet them with a smile, and they will nod gracefully in return.

That evening, the king wanted spicy marinated pasta and the Queen had difficulty choosing between pumpkin soup or mint potatoes.

“Let’s order both” said The king, ”and choose later”…

At desert I asked to join them. She smiled like a deer in a strawberry field, and He nodded his head. We talked about the food, about the village, about India.

Many people arrive here to transform their life. Although it is still interesting to me, two questions I quit asking long time ago: where are you from? and what do you do?

I can’t say I stopped being curious about it.

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“We make jam from eggplants “ says the king. I said that I’ve never heard about a place that makes eggplant jam.

“As a caterer, you should taste the eggplant jam from Badulina, This is one of our main export products” said the king laughing.

“Badulina? Is that a state?”

“Kingdom. Europe. 16,024 citizens as of last Friday”.

“An independent kingdom like Monaco and Liechtenstein?”

“Yes but smaller. Inside Portugal”.

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My high journalist responsibility forces me to stop that report right now, in order to clarify several details. He didn’t say Portugal, but part of our agreement, which I’ll tell you later about, is that I will not expose Badulina’s location.

Apparently, there are many little kingdoms like that all over Europe, and they all survived due to a non-visible policy.

Once upon a time, hundreds years ago, Europe was divided into little kingdoms. Almost every village or small town had a palace and royalty. The nearest kingdom was one hour away and they had a palace and a royal family as well. Later arrived the Popes and the army, The kingdoms grew, built states and had some co-operation, but several small kingdoms stayed out of that game and kept their independence. If someone passes Badulina today they will think it’s another village. There are plenty old castles all over Europe and no one will suspect that this palace, covered with Bogenvilia bushes, belongs to a royal couple.

The citizens of Badulina don’t participate in Portugal elections and can’t be drafted to Portugal’s Army but they have a Portuguese passports (whatever I’m saying here is the complete truth besides the name Portugal).

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“Are you involved in the jam industry of Badulina?”

He seems to be pleased by that idea. “ I’m rubbing it on my toast in the morning”.

“Tough job”

“No, no, I mustn’t work”

“Why is that?”

Two blue eyes peeped on me sympathetically beyond the cover of the Dally Lama’s autobiography, “he is not allowed to work… He is the king”

“Excuse me?”

“And I’m the queen”.

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There are all kinds of types hanging in India. I have met several of them in my restaurant: One Buddha’s current reincarnation, A French guitar player who spoke 6 languages but refused the letter “C” out of principal, A nice family who wondered between the highest mountains in the world to save themselves from the big flood that will demolish 99% of the world population, and more.

There was something different about those two. They didn’t try to impress me and they actually looked royalties.

The young girl that said she is the queen returned to her book and the king ordered chocolate cake and invited me once I returned with one.

“Are you a king? I mean, do you have a palace and a crown and all of that?”

“Palace? yes. Crown? No. Too heavy. On national holidays I stick flowers in my hair”.

“Flowers?”

“Or feathers.“

“But are you really the king of that place? Do you run the show?”

I could feel the queen missing a line in her book.

He stared into my face, green, wild, endlessly smiling and said seriously: “You don’t understand. I’m not an administrator, I don’t do, I mustn’t work, I’m a king.”

“So who is running this place?”

“Badulina? No body. The lion is the king of animals. Do you see him counting the coconut on a three? Or checking that no donkey will shit into the river?”

“Now we are talking metaphors and you are talking about anarchy.”

“We are living in the same world as you and I am talking about nature, If you don’t confuse people with too many laws everything is going great. Nobody explained the donkey that the lion made a law against shitting in the river. If the lion start dealing with that, we will always find an animal that will shit in the river. Rules are not natural and therefor arouse UN-natural resistance.

“So Badulina is an outlaw kingdom?”

The world law is not existing in our language. Of course, some facts are truth as of last Friday.”

“And your job is more symbolic?”

“Just symbolic? There are only symbols. Aren’t numbered papers making you rich? Don’t you kill and die for a convincing flag? Don’t you need all kind of dressing to cross the entrance of a restaurant? And don’t you keep a steady vocabulary to present yourself to others? All your life based on symbols. Our job is the most important in Badulina – I have to live like a king and remind every citizen in Badulina his right to become a king too.

“But not every one can become a king?”

“Of course they are. We are a 16.024 citizen’s kingdoms, we all share a royal blood and every child can be the next king. Up until two years ago I was the trumpet player in what you would have call Wedding’s band.”

“But you don’t call it like that.”

“We don’t even have the word wedding in our language. I played in the love-parties band. It is similar to weddings but happens much more frequently and supplies good income too.”

I tried to remember what did we talk about.

“No weddings? The king and queen are not married?”

I heard a feminine laugh behind the Dally lama’s smiling portrait. I found myself smiling. The king knew well why am I smiling. Everyone loves the queen.

“How does a king behaves?” I asked

“I expect everything to happen according to my wishes. I do just what I want to do, I have no doubt, fears or lack of security, even for a second and as far as I am concerned, the universe is a birthday present that was given to me for improvement and richness till the day I will die…”

He picked another piece of cake with his finger and ate only the plate. Then served the queen with a brown plated finger and she licked it and bit him gently at the end. The king looked like a bear scratching a tree.

“I see now, It’s a tough job.”

He played for a while with the clean spoon and then gave it to me. “Not so difficult but only few people can do it. You think you could have been a king?”

“To eat just the plate of cakes? Do only what I feel like? To live in a palace and become a Ro-model?“ I played with the spoon.

“Yes but without no hesitations. Whiteout feels guilty, without UN-moral thoughts. Living Shamelessly. To believe truly in your right to win all the treasures and pleasures that come to you mind.”

“With no hesitations? Fear? Guilt? Not even when you see an Indian sick baggier ask for one Banana?”

“Maybe I’ll give him one and maybe not. My job is not to deliver Bananas. The Badulina’s king can give away all his treasures like a banana and nothing will change the world. I need to be always A Lion and remind everyone their ability to be kings, even to the Indian baggier.

“Can a poor Indian leper become a king too?”

“Of course not. Why should an Indian poor leper like to be the king of Badulina? What is it Badulina anyway? No. My job is to remind that Indian leper, and you, that you can be kings. King in your own world whatever you call it.”

“But at Badulina, any one can be king, In India the leper has two options: to be a baggier or die.”

“I spouse you don’t know many lepers. I have a leopard friend who is a king. He is the king of rickshaw’s drivers in Delhi and he wouldn’t like to be anything else. On the other hand, the world is full with rich people that lived and suffered like victims. Any one can be a king. Any one can be a victim. The easy choice is to be a victim”.

“You realize of that in any other place, talking like that can get you arrested or hospitalized?”

He took his wand from my hand: “That’s why the tough choice is to be a king.”

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A time lip. Three weeks forward. 7 Kilometers north in air line. I wake up in a cave at the top of the highest mountain. I can’t see the king nowhere. I stretched, look around me. Sky all around me. Blow me the clouds and the rest of Planet Earth. Tiny houses. Green -yellow fields, hairy forests. 2 days ago when I asked something really stupid I saw the king groaning for the firs time and then he said: “I have a business offer for you. Let’s meet for breakfast the day after tomorrow.”

The next morning we went away. On the way we stopped next to a “Chai-shop”. I was sweating all over. The king ordered cold soda, the drink was almost frozen, they kept the bottles in the nearest fountain, Badulina’s king never check the menu. He says what he wants and gets what he wants. When we finished our drinks he asked for chocolate pancake. After a year in India you should know that a “chai-shop” that looks like that. In the middle of nowhere, will sale no chocolate pancake. But I have already seen the king gets creamed hot apple pie in a Tibetan’s soup restaurant so I went to get the pancake anyway. I came back proud. I ordered honey pancake, which was much more then I hoped to get in that place. The king looked like I forgot his order, 2 minuets later we got the richest chocolate pancake I ever saw in India. I have no idea how did he do that.

We climbed quiet a lot. The air was diluted, several travelers passed our way . “You know” I told him, there is one sleeping cabin at the top.”

“Don’t worry” He replied “Even at the most crowded hotels there is one royal suit available”.

We met some travelers going down the mountain. “Do not continue” they said. “Half Tibetan school arrived today, 100 children until tomorrow…”

The king just smiled and wishes them good luck. When we arrived up we saw the Tibetan teenagers busy building a tent. The sleeping cabin was crowded with Tibetan young girls and 6 other travelers were sitting in the entrance expecting a miracle. I was almost glad. His royalty didn’t seem disturbed. He approached the local “chai-shop” and talked to its owner. Apparently they met each other on town 2 days ago and they are friends. The owner wore a jacket that the king gave him on that day. We got chai and an excellent Indian meal. It was sunset.

“lets see” says the king. “Can you lead us to the royal suit?” I checked around me. Tents and people occupied any parking location.

“How do you want to reach the top” asked the king “If you don’t look up?” I followed his eyes. Ok, on the West Side there was a pile of giant rocks, no structure, and no walking path.

“Thousands of people are climbing here every year but the stop where the road is finished. As far as them they reached the top, there is a official sign by the Indian government that says the highs is 4’020 meter, chai-shop and a sleeping place. We can stick a flag. Follow me.”

On the way upstairs we met some goats and their herders. The king smiled at them pointed the fire. Changed a few words and soon after that we were escorted by a young herd with armful of fire’s wood. On the end of the road we were welcomed into herd’s cave where we could open sleeping bags, light up some fire and talk about anything but the king’s business offer. The full moon rolled gently from left to right. I fell asleep." title="permanent link">1