Excitement in the air: Time to vote again

The excitement is in the air. Elections are round the corner and mythological promises are the flavour of the month. Politics have become the ‘daily bread’ of the hungry proletariat. One good thing, all contestants promise the same rainbows; to eradicate corruption and be honest as the days that dawn. Jobs for the jobless, homes for the homeless; aren’t they all carrots for the clueless?

Of course the ‘lunu gambiris’ of any political speech is the ridiculing of other candidates. This is a time where ‘lily white’ party sainthood is personified as they address gatherings from political platforms making drain water of rival parties.

The TV is very interesting too, more like who wins the ‘best liar’ prize. Man! With so many selfless patriots fighting among themselves to serve the people, how can we go wrong? Good times are around the bend and sadly, as always, we like fools believe.

I have absolutely no political affiliations, but I do enjoy the many-splendoured entertainment. So, let me get on with the show. Two days ago I returned home after being away for a while (almost missed the carnival that leads to the elections.) As I turned to my lane there were three eyecatching banners swaying in the wind, one green, one blue and one red. They all said the same thing.

“Our road is badly damaged after water pipes were laid. Whoever repairs our road will get our ‘manapa’ vote’.”

This here is good thinking, seeking a solution to the road problem by placing bets covering all squares. Come what may, our rundown road was sure to get repaired and all we needed to do was to plant roses and gardenias on the sides to make it look like a path leading to heaven. Three banners in three colours, that sure looked a perfect solution.

Road repair fairy tale

Now comes the strangest part. Almost all roads in Moratuwa are tarred or concreted and the potholes have vanished and people walk, cycle and drive in them ‘Whistling Dixie’ - but not us from Cornelius Place, Koralawella. We have been singled out for stepmotherly treatment to walk the crumbling mess of a road that leads to our homes.

So I asked why from my neighbours.

Out comes the answer in the softest of whispers - “Because Cornelius Place people are UNP,” Q.E.D.

Now that sure is interesting. There are about 200 people eligible to vote living down my lane. They are simple people who belong to the common lot. I am sure there must be those who favour the elephant and trumpet it loud. There are also others who support the government or the general. That is why they had the banners in all colours, repair the road and we will give you the ‘manapa’ vote.

If this is politics, it leads me to think of a more dangerous situation. Bigger elections are coming and if you apply the same equation of punishing those who supported the losers, we could be in for some turbulent times ahead. What if the ‘Sandhanaya’ lost? Does that mean that the winners will go to Hambantota carrying ‘kulu gedi’ (sledge hammers) and demolish the Mattala Airport like how the Germans broke the Berlin Wall? Or the winners might close down the Southern Highway and add for good measure, the sinking of ships in the Hambantota Harbour. They might even plough and grow manioc in the cricket field in that southern sports stadium?

Sorry, I got side tracked. Let me get back to my road repair fairy tale. I am now planning to have a meeting, invite all the residents of the lane and serve Marie Biscuits and Orange Barley and have a political chat. I want to divide the Cornelius Place dwellers into three groups, one for the elephant, one for the government and one for the General.

Mr Politician!

Appoint lane leaders too for each party so that they can ensure the correct people know who we are supposed to be supporting. Then on the day of elections we

What if the ‘Sandhanaya’ lost? Does that mean that the winners will go to Hambantota carrying ‘kulu gedi’ (sledge hammers) and demolish the Mattala Airport like how the Germans broke the Berlin Wall? Or the winners might close down the Southern Highway and add for good measure, the sinking of ships in the Hambantota Harbour. They might even plough and grow manioc in the cricket field in that southern sports stadium?

will all dress in colours to show our allegiances and make a tricolour procession to the voting booths. But, once inside the booth we will forget what shades we wear and vote for whom we want.

(Changing colours is quite common in Moratuwa; the sterling example was set by the two biggest erudite political leaders of the town, the Oxford types who changed colours like litmus paper.) We will make sure no one knows who we voted for and no one will be able to punish a dilapidated mess of a road for making elephants walk on it.

I think this sure is a winning game plan.

My dear reader, this is our homeland, the beautiful Sri Lanka. I have been vagabonding the world for more than four decades and never saw anything as beautiful as this country to which I wholeheartedly belong. Here is where my heart gets an extra beat every time I disembark from a plane to come home.

“Breathes there a man whose soul so dead, who never to himself has said, this is my country my native land.”

So says Sir Walter Scott. There are many here whose souls yearn with love for Sri Lanka. They only plead for peace, law and order and a basic right to live and let live in this extraordinary beautiful country of ours. Mr Politician, whichever party you belong to, go have your TV debate and shout at the wind from your political platform and promise us the moon as you always did. We can handle that as we have seen it from the day of independence.

We all know you have absolutely no vested interest in this game other than to serve the people and eradicate their multiple burdens of poverty. We know that and know it too well. And with so many patriots fighting each other to develop this country, how can we go wrong? Milk and honey are sure to rain down on us. It is only a matter of time before my Cornelius Place friends will be driving Mercs and BMWs and even think of Maseratis and Ferraris.

But then, to do that, we do need our ramshackle road repaired. (Capt. Elmo Jayawardena can

be contacted at Elmojay1@gmail.com)