Ministry Of Trivial Affairs - By Aadhil Ahamedh

Written By: Aadhil Ahamedh

Category: Satirical Short Story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the satirical short story "Ministry Of Trivial Affairs," Aadhil Ahamedh, writing under the pen name Ministry Of Trivial Affairs, presents a sharp and humorous exploration of bureaucratic absurdities. Submitted to the esteemed Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, this piece delves into the life of Siripala, a government employee navigating the intricate and often ridiculous standards of the Ministry of Trivial Affairs. Through wit and irony, Ahamedh offers readers a lens into the sometimes ludicrous nature of administrative precision.

About the Work

Aadhil Ahamedh's "Ministry Of Trivial Affairs" masterfully employs satire to critique the minutiae of bureaucratic life. The story’s tone is both humorous and incisive, highlighting the ludicrous extent to which trivial matters are regulated within a government institution. Ahamedh's use of vivid imagery and precise details underscores the absurdity of Siripala's world, where even the smallest misalignments can lead to significant consequences. This narrative invites readers to reflect on the nature of authority and the often-overlooked comedy within structured systems.

Ministry Of Trivial Affairs

Original Submission by Aadhil Ahamedh

Ministry Of Trivial Affairs

On his second day at the Ministry of Trivial Affairs, Siripala - or N. M. S. S. Nikamdasa, as his birth certificate insisted, wore his ID card like a badge of honour. It measured precisely 5.4 by 8.5 cm, the government-mandated size for Level-C Correctional Officers, with all text perfectly aligned and spaced according to ISO-Bureaucrat standards.

It was, in fact, the responsibility of this ministry to look into every trivial affair possible, including spacing, alignment, capitalisation, and even the space after the full stop in ID cards. A minor error could bring about dangerous consequences, such as misinterpretation and misunderstanding, eventually leading to chaos within communities.

Therefore, even though the affairs they handled were “trivial”, this ministry wasn't.

Siripala was a young man in his thirties. Like many Sri Lankan moms, his mother also wanted him to join the government service - preferably to get him married into a wealthy family whose entire ancestral line had been government servants.

So there he was, in a large hall with partitioned cubicles. His calendar was marked today with a large ‘X’. And in the notes, he had written “19 - Meeting with Minister”. Luckily, no one had come by to notice the missing “the” or else he'd have gotten himself into big trouble on the first day for breaching Article 01 of the Grammar Code.

A grumpy man who looked as if he were in his sixties sat at the centre corner of the long conference table. He had black hair - neatly dyed. He wore a white shirt with black buttons. There was a gap of approximately 4cm between each button. That was the correct ratio for his shirt length. He was the Minister of Trivial Affairs.

The minister stood up sharply at 9.59.59 AM.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. It is a pleasure for me to meet you today. Firstly, I would like to welcome the new officers who have joined us to begin a new journey. It is my pleasure to firstly introduce myself.”

His punctuation was clearly distinguishable.

“I am Mr Keerthi Paththarahewa. I have an experience of TWENTY-ONE years at the Ministry of Trivial Affairs alone. I joined the ministry first as a trainee clerk, compiling papers, carrying them to tables and distributing tea. But, because of my unwavering dedication towards trivial affairs and serving the nation, I am today the minister in charge of this very ministry I once joined as a trainee.

So, ladies and gentlemen, with your dedication, not only can we serve our nation and the people who pay us with their taxes, but we may also be able to promote ourselves to better places.

To be a dedicated government servant, we have to follow what we preach. Therefore, not even a minute amount of mistake made in relation to trivial affairs will be tolerated.

That being said, crystal clear, I would like to move to the next part. Our ministry has received the government's appreciation for conducting an awareness workshop titled ‘Wear the Correct Sock’ …”

Siripala was already immersed in thoughts of his own.

Just like most first-day trainees, he too imagined himself talking to his subordinates from the same chair, but with grey hair. So he decided that he'd work hard and stay dedicated to what he does.

His primary job was to find the faults in trivial things and propose corrections. The first day he went on the field, he noticed how a man had not proportionally folded his shirt sleeves. He was running to catch a bus. Siripala stopped him and suggested that he place a sleeve board or something of that sort before folding his arms, so that both sides would be equal. He wasn't fined. It was his first correction.

Life went on that way. He corrected people wearing disproportionate socks and wrong tie knots. He even stopped old men to ask them to wear the upper button on their shirts, and some were fined an amount of twenty-five rupees. Some were caught without vests underneath. Some women didn't even know how to hold their handbags the right way. Some didn't wear the right lipstick. It was a tiring job.

Once his shift ended, he had to come back to his office and submit a report to the Secretariat.

The next day, when he returned to his cubicle, he found a note on his table.

It read:

“Memo.

Border alignment exceeds the official margin policy by 0.2mm. Please refer to Correctional Code 12-B. Repeat offences may result in disciplinary action.

PS: You have to correct your calendar note for the 19th by adding the article “the” before “minister”.

- Operational Secretary”

It was about the report he submitted. He wasn't well aware of the margin policy for reports.

He was worried, but vowed never to repeat an offence again. He even read the entire codebook, “The Guide to Trivial Affairs”.

After a few months, arrangements were made for marriage. The family of the bride liked Siripala very much. That evening, they came home with a basket of fruits. When Siripala came to greet them, he was aghast. The sight made him shiver and tremble.

The bananas were facing down. That was strictly against Hospitality Code 17. He immediately asked the girl's father to change orientation. He even threatened him with a fine.

Unsurprisingly, this led to a clash between the two families. Siripala was being bashed by his mom. An uncle of Siripala's started blaming the bride’s family for being a disgrace to their honour. The entire banter ended in chaos.

But Siripala didn't worry. To him, he had done his duty. When this story went round the town, praises began flooding in. He was especially happy with the minister's comments. Though he never received the promotion he expected, he was satisfied.

After about three months into his usual routine, Siripala was assigned a special duty. He was appointed as Chief Supervisor for the Annual Coconut Planters’ Conference being held at the Puswedilla Memorial Conference Hall.

The conference brought together thousands of coconut planters, researchers, and agripreneurs from across the country and abroad, overlooked by the Minister of Coconut Development, Hon. Dr Anoma Polgahathenna.

Siripala positioned himself by the entrance after placing his colleagues at different checkpoints. Some had to make sure everyone wore the correct shirts, correct sarees, the matching pants, matching hairstyles, and even matching makeovers. Some also had to make sure the chairs in the hall

aligned with the regulations of the Ceremony Code. And Siripala's duty was to make sure the rest of the officers did their job.

All clear. It was time for the arrival of the chief guest. For one last time, Siripala opened the conference door and scanned the hall. He didn't smell anything wrong.

The chief guest for this year's conference was Hon. Cyril Vikalpanayake. He was the Minister of Internal Serendipity. A man who was born into politics. He was the son of a former prime minister.

However, he was known to be very humble. He never sought to be prime minister or president but always served in ministerial positions despite being the party chairman.

He was clad in his signature attire - a black suit and a white shirt with a black tie that almost camouflaged itself. But Siripala’s eyes were sharp. Sharp enough to notice the minister’s tie knot. Regrettably, it violated the handbook.

Siripala walked swiftly to the minister, shook his hand, and softly whispered, “Excuse me, Sir. Your Windsor knot seems to be pulling slightly to the left. Might I recommend a half-Windsor for better symmetry with your face shape?”

Although taken aback, the minister praised him for his enthusiasm with a big smile and told him he'd fix it. He could hardly contain his excitement. The minister had praised him! He was sure of a promotion now.

While on the way back home, his mobile phone buzzed. It was an email. The subject read, “Suspension Order”. He didn't expect that. He had been suspended, and the mail read:

“Dear Mr Nikamdasa,

We would like to point out to you that Correctional Officers are not permitted to advise ministers on aesthetic matters unless requested in writing via Form 47-J.

Given that you have overstepped jurisdiction, you will be permanently suspended effective 15th of July 2025.

Your salary for the period served shall be transferred to your account in due course.

Thank you.”

Siripala read the suspension letter three times. By the fourth reading, he noticed the margins were perfectly aligned. He folded it carefully and placed it under Personal Matters.

He now runs a small grocery. The bananas are always perfectly hung. All the shelves are neatly aligned. He doesn’t smile much. But never misaligns margins in his bills.

Customers are left confused when the decimal points line up too perfectly. Some whisper he’s still in uniform - just without the badge.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, is a prestigious platform celebrating diverse literary talents from around the world. This competition provides an opportunity for writers to showcase their creativity and storytelling prowess. With categories spanning poetry, short stories, essays, and creative writing, it aims to bring together voices from various backgrounds to illuminate the richness of the written word. Participants are invited to engage with themes that resonate on both personal and universal levels.

We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Aadhil Ahamedh for sharing "Ministry Of Trivial Affairs" with us in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This engaging and thought-provoking narrative offers a delightful lens into the peculiarities of bureaucratic life. We appreciate Ahamedh's contribution and look forward to future works that continue to challenge and amuse readers with insight and wit.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.