The Dawn Dispatch
Dearest Readers
Pray, clutch your pearls and tighten your grip upon your morning tea, for Colombo’s theatre of politics serves drama far spicier than any curry in the southern province. Sajith demands clarity regarding a most mysterious visitor upon our waters. To attempt explaining maritime strategy to certain quarters is akin to instructing one in the subtle virtues of oxygen whilst they insist the air is wholly superfluous. Language barriers abound, my dears, and one might as well attempt to install Duolingo upon a coconut.
Across oceans, the precedent set by the United States in the Middle East ferments like milk left upon the noon sun. Regret may follow, yet the specter of regression upon our own shores appears all but certain. Geography, ever the jester, delights in cruel irony, and memory fails most spectacularly when one would desire it to serve. Trump, ever a master of exhausting spectacle, proclaims that it is too late for talks, leaving the rest of the world to wonder whether policy or simply a most perplexing accent explains his every utterance. Within our own borders, so Ali Sabry, my friend, I totally get you. Here is a more statesman-like and diplomatic version, with a tone suitable for a senior statesman or former foreign minister addressing a sensitive regional conflict: I think you should take a break, man. Just sit back. Right, chutney? If not, we’ll have to ask how many perms you get every year.
Our Parliament, meanwhile, hosted a performance worthy of Morpheus himself, Survivor of the MPs’ Perks. A bill to slash pensions and privileges passed with alarming unanimity: one hundred and fifty-four in favor, two dissenting. Chamara Sampath and Chanaka Madugoda alone dared to voice objection. Heroes, or gold diggers clinging to the public trough with the subtlety of a Colombo traffic jam? Sampath, in a flourish of linguistic audacity, asked, ‘Why should we be afraid of Trump? Who does he think he is?’ Clearly, he was thinking of the Avurudu firecrackers that could help him in war. Thankfully, the statement was delivered in Sinhala, sparing several diplomatic inboxes the trouble of immediate outrage. The community, meanwhile, went to the comments to say bhaiya is from India, we seem to have skipped this one so far brews.
The Rajapaksas waxed lyrical upon maternal devotion, declaring with eyes agleam, ‘We love our motherland as we love our mother.’ Wander the back alleys and rugby fields of Colombo. Flirt with a woman, and one might find oneself six feet beneath the very soil one claims to adore, our savior or the enthusiastic bouncer. Clowning has given some peace for Swifties, as Selena confirmed that Dorethea is about her. Zendaya’s engagement passed with scarcely a flicker upon our social calendars. Timing, tact, and patience, my dears, remain virtues most scarce. Even the most eccentric rulers of heart and nation shall find their hour, provided they play with fairness. Perera and Kim Jong Un, do take note, for one’s place in history and in love is rarely won by rashness or foolish haste. Your time will come.
Yours Truly,
The Writer
