Once, in the flourishing state of Vijaynagar, there reigned Raja Narendar, a ruler known for his dedication and desire to personally ensure growth and prosperity of his kingdom and every subject.
Initially, his Durbar (Royal Court) was highly efficient, guided by his Panch Maharatnas (Five Great Jewels): Ami Grihapati, Raj Senapati, Nirma Vittapati, Arjoo Nyaypati and Jagat Aryogyapati. They were the pillars, and their coordinated work ensured peace and progress.
However, as Vijaynagar grew, Raja Narendar, fearing that delegation might dilute his authority, insisted that every new officer, minister, and department head report directly to him. He wanted to be the single point of contact for everything, believing, “A king must hold all the threads of his realm in his own hand.”
Slowly, everyone including the chief of estate, head of handloom, water manager, and granaries and other minions began reporting to him. The Durbar, once a place of thoughtful consultation and contemplation, descended into chaos, though organised.
The situation became like trying to manage a Big Fat Indian Wedding where the same person—the overworked father of the bride—insists on personally approving the menu, the guest list seating, the band-baaja, the flower arrangements, the pundit’s timing, and the joota churai (stealing the groom’s footwear) negotiations.
Raja Narendar was overwhelmed. His days were a blur of back-to-back darshans: Jahgirdhar seeking approval for a new revenue scheme. Shiva Krishipati presented complex plans for the monsoon reservoirs. Piyu Vanijyapati needed permission for a border trade, Jyotish had an urgent calendar correction, Maali was requesting new fertilizer for the palace mango trees etc.
The King, buried under mountains of tasks, became a bottleneck for progress. Strategic decisions about defense or economic reform were delayed for weeks because he was preoccupied with minor logistical issues, like deciding the color of the ceremonial elephant’s saddle cloth.
His once-trusted Panch Maharatnas felt sidelined. They couldn’t coordinate with each other efficiently, as everyone’s priority was now only to secure a brief, rushed audience with the Raja. Decisions were often contradictory—Narendar would approve a new road project requested by the Vanijya mantri, forgetting it would run right through the protected forest area managed by the Vana Adhikari he’d seen an hour before. Things came to such a pass he was even unable to recall his own Anna Bhandar Adhikari when he saw visible cracks in once upon a time perfect Vijayanagar – all because he wanted to be the Dhuri around which every other spoke revolved.
He sighed, “I have been so focused on counting every grain of rice that I have forgotten to manage the entire harvest. My administration is behaving like a crowded Bombay VT railway platform—busy, noisy, and nowhere near its destination.”
Raja Narendar finally went back to the old proved and trusted model, delegated authority to his Panch Maharatnas, making them responsible for serveral functions and the numerous people within them. He focussed and guided to strategic, focused core.
Thus, freed from the mundance Raja Narendar could once again concentrate on his true role of setting the long-term vision (drishti) for Vijaynagar, ensuring justice, and allowing his kingdom to truly flourish.
A strong King need not manage every detail, but guide the those who do. Growth of a kingdom brings new roles and responsibilities and his insistence on direct oversight is a certain recipe for disaster. Strategic vision goes for a toss and gets blurred by operational noise. A kings job is to chart the course, not steering every oar. In other words, focus on strategy, not operations. It is not about doing everything—it’s about enabling others to do their best.
