When ECG machines hit the ceiling | Sunday Observer

When ECG machines hit the ceiling

No law or order

It might’ve been business as usual for many, early last week, but with one exception. The Minister of Law and Order was to undergo the treatment reserved by the Police for the ‘commoner’ and that too at the expense of his personal security. This was despite the memory of the Paradisians being limited to the gun brandishing machoness, the horns, and the frantic waving aside of regular motorists out of every small alley a Minister with a security detail decided to wander into. Ah, how could we forget the days of the MSD hammering here and cutting the hair of a few others there. For once, we could now be proud that things have changed.

The Police were the new Rats, gone were the days that every other man, woman, lady and child had to be meek. Their leaders’, Nayakes, vehicle was crashed into, on the Southern Expressway while on his jaunt to the Mahagedara. The hit and run superman had the gumption to flee and was not to be found. The security ran helter skelter, first trying to find the culprit and second trying to lodge a complaint.

They realized it was no easy task. Lodging a complaint at a Lankan police station needs the patience of a mule. The officers said, nothing doing- bring the vehicle which was hit to the police station. That ended the hurried landing to Mahagedara. The security took the vehicle to the Police Station to be identified, for what? no policeman will tell you.

They wouldn’t know for what either, right? this was the vehicle that was hit for goodness sake, what help does it do to have a look at the vehicle which was hit instead of trying to find the superman who hit it. Nothing doing, said the Police. Bring the vehicle here for us to commence our Sherlock Holmes like expedition.

The Minister was to comment later “ I shudder to think what a normal man must go through, he told the Police big wigs before giving them a good piece of his mind. At last there was someone to speak on behalf of the Paradisians. Hopefully, another Politico will get copped for a traffic offence and go to court. That will open the eyes a bit wider. Let the Paradisians hope it would be the Minister of Justice, to see how justice is really a dish served very cold.

The unwanted meeting

So, the self-styled leader of those Joint was in Japan, when the leader confined to the title, decided to visit the Mahanayake of the Malwaththa Chapter to get an earful about the constitution and hysteria.

Who would’ve thought that the populism and nationalism of those in the Joint would come a cropper, before the Mahanayake himself. There was no Guna (good) or Wardhana (progress) that came out of the meeting. “ We need a new constitution, don’t we?”, the Mahanayake shot him down first. He tried to dodge the first bullet, but years of wisdom gained through the Buddha’s words and years of political hypocrisy seemed no match. The former obviously was astute to catch the bull by the horns.

“The President assured us that Buddhism would be protected and nourished” the sage first said. A-guna would have none of it. He tried to use the “but” excuse to divert. The sage said nothing doing “ the unitary nature of the country will also be protected no” he told A-guna. And that was that, for the Monk gave A-guna a lecture he wished he never heard, in front of all the cameras and microphones.

Mara won’t be too happy, but that didn’t end the woes. The foot in mouth syndrome continued after little brother went to Jaffna and said that the soldiers had committed crimes. All this while Mara was in the Land of the Japanese for a medical examination. The doctors may have been wondering why the heart rate isn’t steady. How to keep it steady when they can’t handle a simple meeting and a press conference without him around no?

Die-Anne continues his confusion

Jaya never seems to come his way these days. At a “strategic meeting” or whatever the hell they call these regular gossiping hangouts of the Joint type, Die-Anne wanted to give his confused two cents. The one-time Marxist, then reformist, then he doesn’t know what he is, was heard lecturing some of the Joints on why nationalism and populism must be done away with, if they were to get the youth attracted. Just like in Saudi Arabia, where the men decide on solutions for women, here we were with old men trying to figure out how to attract a generation which they know nothing about. As silly as that sounds, this was what the debate was all about and all hell was to break loose. The Populists had none of it. They called Dayan everything under the sun, but unbeknownst to them, he was also as confused about himself as much as the rest of the world are confused about him.

So, he got the marching orders. He tried to tell them that we should go beyond slogans to attract the youth and the older men said no we need more racists and lunatics to be running around the street and that ended there.

But Die- Anne remains confused. Who am I? what am I doing here? why am I here? are all questions that everyone asks from him and he should be asking from himself.

A look for ace

The Cabinet meeting is a place for argument and dissent. This time it was for Hakeem, Rishad and Faiszer to have a go at each other. It was with regard to the Muslim representative for the delimitation committee and a heated argument ensued, every one accusing the brown eyed smooth talker for appointing his man. Bull with an A doesn’t make him any stronger. The Premier and the President had to intervene to tell the young boys to calm down and calm they did for now. The politics among the three were a different story altogether. Each trying to have a piece of the other’s cake, all the time.

Foot in the mouth is his new game

So, the Japanese doctors were wondering why the ECG kept going up and down.

The squint eyes got smaller each time they tried to figure out why the chart kept shifting so fast. Ah! and then realization dawned. Each time the smart phone was used the ECG machine shot up and screamed. Basil was in business mode in Jaffna, and foot in the mouth was his new game. Back in the day it was, we were told, 10% in the mouth.

Siripala thinks that he forgot we live in a day and age when what is said in Somalia can be heard in Capetown. Basil seemed to have thought otherwise.

“ I’ll just say whatever I want here- it’s Jaffna no” was what may have been ringing in his head, when the journos threw one grenade after another.

“ So soldiers committed crimes” he said, and smiled too. A triumphant smile, like the ones they do for election posters. Paradisians remember how his poster was plastered all over Colombo and the country, at one time, no. Ah yes, that was the smile.

And, Mara hit the ceiling. Well not him, but the ECG machines fluctuations hit the ceiling. Ten days I am gone, and this idiot has to go and do this. There seemed a competition, and the Joints may have been smoking something other than cigerattes- for they all seemed disjointed. Hmmm.

Whose evil eye?

Basil’s famous ‘admission of guilt’ in Jaffna is seen as a momentous incident, the subject of erudite conversation and whatnot at top-level gatherings.

But while this news caught the interest of the political circles and Colombo’s cocktail circuit, the attention in Jaffna was on another event – the sight of a shirtless Basil who had on him more talismans than offerings placed before a Hindu God.

Dignitaries and others who accompanied Basil to Jaffna were blown away by the sheer number of talismans he wore and could not imagine the magnitude of the ‘evil eye’ the former kingpin was trying to evade. 

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