Meet the Jong brothers.

Before persistent Persians ploughed through snowy Himalayan passes, before the ecology of Ajantha and Ellora was ruined by zealous artists, there was a high mountain village whose inhabitants were usually high on high altitude herbs.

This was also the home of the notorious Jong brothers. Ruthless when hunting innocent prey, a little toothless from hunting accidents, and often truthless when relating hunting adventures. Yes, you guessed it, they were hunters. But Trump-Jong-Un and Kim-Jong-Tu were not just ordinary, spare-the-spear-and-spoil-the-wildlife hunters. They were fierce warriors who hunted anything with four legs, with the exception of tables and chairs.

It was said that their father, Long-Jong, was a chieftain who served under Ghengis Khan himself. And their mother, Mah-Jong, was from a fierce’n’fiery fighting family also. So it was hardly surprising that both brothers were rough, tough and full of bluff. While Trump was a big belligerent bully, Kim was no less of a blustering braggart.

It was not just the villagers who knew about their penchant for gratuitous violence. Wise wild animals ran for cover when the Jong brothers went forest-frolicking. For instance, sheer fear of Trump made bulls and bears behave unpredictably. At the sight of Trump, they would run up high peaks with alacrity, then in sheer panic turn around to slide down precipitously to rock-bottom levels. And Little Kim’s hate’n’hurt hunting habits were known to the great bald eagles, which flew faster, further and furiouser when he was around.

But though they would not admit it, each brother had secret non-hunting urges. For instance, Trump wanted to buy all the huts in the village, put one hut on top of another and build skyscraping hut-plexes. And to ensure the safety of inhabitants, he would build a tall wall around the entire village. Little Kim had big dreams too. He had national notions, dreams about controlling countries and being known as Supreme Leader.

All went well, each brother playfully competing on thrills, skills and kills, till one day things took a spill. And it was the fault of Noble Nobel, the village weapons maker. Yes, he was generally of a noble disposition, but irrepressible instincts led him to improvise innovative weapons of mass animal destruction. His most recent invention was the New-Clear weapon, which he created after accidentally discovering that transparent resin from Himalayan rubberlyptus trees was hard enough to make arrows and spears. Soon, transparent projectiles became popular and naturally the Jong brothers each wanted his own stock of these new-clear weapons.

Unfortunately traditional societies think older is wiser and privilege-worthy, so the elder Trump got first dibs on these weapons. He carted away a cartful of the new-clear weapons and stockpiled them for later use or abuse. Little Kim threw a fit, but all he got was a hunting kit consisting of a big box of assorted rocks (referred to by hunters as a rock-kit), a bunch of slingshots and the remaining few new-clear arrows.

Unfair traditional practices that prevented him from grabbing a soul-satisfying stash of new-clear weapons was bad enough. But name-calling was going too far. When brother Trump started calling him ‘little rock-kit man’, it was the last straw that broke Kim Jong Tu’s sibling allegiance. So he vowed to get out from under his older brother’s shady shadow. And make no mistake, he would no longer be Tu, he would rise up to numero Un.

Thus, on a fine day fit for dichotomies to turn into dictatorships, Little Kim decided to move on to greener Eastern pastures.

But the roundabout road to reincarnation is rife with rambunctious rendezvous and razzmatazz rivalries. In this instance, it was Little Kim versus a big bald eagle sitting on top of a Himalayan olive tree. Now the eagle was just looking for body parts of mice and men, but to Kim it looked like the bird of prey was looking down at him scornfully. Our infuriated Kim took out a huge rock from his rock-kit and threw it at the eagle. This was not the first instance that Kim had thrown sticks and stones to break its bones, so the eagle retaliated.

It swooped down angrily from its lofty perch, unmindful of the olive twig that was stuck to the talons of one foot. Little Kim raised a hand hastily to protect himself from the eagle attack, without realizing that this hand was holding his quiver full of new-clear arrows. The bald eagle, unable to claw its tormentor’s face, instead grabbed arrows from the upraised quiver, 13 to be exact, and flew away westwards.

Probably inspired by this big bold bald bird, Trump Jong Un also felt he should realign his realities and headed for western realms in a quest for realtered realizations, real estate reallotments and reality shows.

After several reincarnations involving carnations and coronations, Little Kim achieved his dream of becoming Supreme Leader. But he was unable to understand why he got inexplicably angry when he saw one particular country’s official seal – a seal depicting a bald eagle clutching an olive twig in one foot and 13 new-clear arrows in the other.

Meanwhile, Noble Nobel was inconsolably sad at losing two of his best customers. So he invented what he called a ‘pipe’ to increase intoxication efficiency when smoking potent herbs. On a hard day’s night, after his weapons work was done, he would sit and smoke the Nobel Peace Pipe, listening to the sound of the beetles.