Please note: There's never a dull moment in Kekirilanthaya!
Beryl de Krester was feeling bored. The excitement of holding ‘for democracy’ placards, candlelight vigils and keyboard heroics on facebook had run its course. Everything seemed to have started gathering dust the moment Sunil was reinstated as the Prime Minister of Kekirilanthaya. Cabinet size, cabinet choices, Kavi Karunanayake’s return to ministerial glory etc had elicited not one whimper of protest from any of her friends. Beryl was pleased by the silence but she was still bored.
‘Girlies, how about meeting for another chit-chat about the political situation?’ she sent out a feeler on the ‘We are for democracy’ whatsapp group.
Savitri De Silva responded immediately, in her usual caustic way: ‘what political situation dear…the situation is sorted out, let’s just meet and talk about the good old days!’
Shirley Godamunne, known to be more politically aware, objected, ‘there’s stuff that worries me!’
‘So let’s meet and have tea and talk about anything we like,’ Monica Rankothge didn’t want to take sides.
‘Count me in!’ Sundari Manickavasagar was excited.
So it was agreed that they would meet at ‘The Embassy’. And meet they did.
Sampath Sulochana, the waiter, caught the conversation only after everyone had arrived and ordered tea, coffee, cappuccino and an assortment of cakes and pastries.
‘I still can’t get over the fact that Siripala the Godaya had to eat humble pie!’ Monica couldn’t help blurting out what others also felt.
‘The man is down and out for the count!’ Savitri salivated.
‘You really think so?’ Shirley was cautious.
‘Oh give me a break Shirls darling, you are such a cynic!’ Beryl didn’t want anyone curbing her enthusiasm.
‘I am serious. Didn’t you hear the speech he made after Sunil was sworn?’
‘Who cares? Who listens to him anyway?’ Sundari didn’t want her bliss-bubble pricked.
‘Well, Sunil listened. His wife listened. Seniors in his party listened.’
‘Shirleeeee!’ Monica didn’t know what to say but she wasn’t too happy.
‘Siripala was Brutus in this drama, but thank god the Supreme Court cut HIM down before he could bleed Sunil to death!’ Savitri knew a bit of Shakespeare.
‘I think he was more like Antony,’ Shirley objected softly.
‘What do you mean? Anthony Quinn? Anthony Hopkins?’ Beryl was a bit out of the literary depths.
‘Antony. Mark Antony. In Julius Caesar.’
‘Oh! You read too much Shirley Girlie!’ Monica giggled.
‘Tell us! Tell us! Was this Antony also a back-stabber like Siripala?’ Sundari was curious.
‘In a way, he was, darling. He was also Caesar’s friend, just like Brutus. Whereas Brutus stabbed Caesar, Antony stabbed Brutus,’ Shirley explained.
‘So, so…what has that got to do with Siripala and Sunil?’ Savitri said, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin.
‘It’s the speech at Caesar’s funeral. Well, not really funeral, but when the crowd was addressed by the conspirators. Antony mocked all the democrats, calling them honorable men, tongue-in-cheek like. And then he says “I come to bury caesar, not praise him”. Get it?’
‘No!’ they all said in chorus.
‘Well, that’s what Sunil did, right? He buried Sunil with a bunch of home truths. Sunil couldn’t respond. No one could respond. I think it was Sunil who ate humble pie that day.’
There was dead silence.
‘Is Siripala still the President?’ Monica asked tentatively.
‘Can he harm our Sunil again?’ Savitri was aghast.
‘No, no, no….but that’s not the point. Our Sunil is safe. For now. But the Godaya’s work is not done, you know,’ Shirley cautioned her friends.
‘I can’t be holding candles and placards all over again…I ruined a pair of shoes and got drenched one day!’ Monica wailed.
‘Stop worrying. Sunil will sort things out,’ Beryl tried to reassure her friend.
‘Are you sure? He didn’t see Siripala’s punch until he was hit between the eyes, noh?’
There was silence.
‘Are you ladies done?’ Sampath Sulochana asked politely. He was smiling.
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[Transcript obtained by the omniscient සිලිබිරිස්, aka 'Silly Breeze']
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