Chapters (23)
- Cover
- JEAN ARASANAYAGAM
- ALL IS BURNING
- Dedication
- The Journey
- I Am an Innocent Man
- Elysium
- Time the Destroyer
- The Mutants
- Man Without a Mask
- From Distant Ophir
- The Golden Apples of the Hesperides
- All is Burning
- The Sand Serpents
- The Innocents of the World
- Prayers to Kali
- Fragments from a Journey
- A Fistful of Wind
- Bali
- A Husband Like Shiva
- ‘I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes’
- Two Women and an Apple
- Fear: Meditations in a Camp
We leave the doors wide open. Everything remains in darkness. We climb into our Pajeros. Prepare for the return journey. The neighbouring houses show no signs of life. Afraid to come out. All of them. We hear the wails begin in the walauwa. Tremulous sounds of aged people who now have no reason to live.
The job is done. Twelve thirty. Perfect timing. The arena is free for the other man to contest the elections. I’ll report back to the bosses as soon as I get back. the telephone will ring in that house in the city. The Boss will be waiting to take up the phone.
‘Boss,’ I’ll say, ‘everything’s fine. The coast is clear.’
‘You’ll find the amount agreed on in your bank account tomorrow. I’ll telegraph it along to the Swiss account.’
Boss will sleep easy tonight. So will I.
The speeches begin. The great orations. The promises to build a brave new world free of the shackles of colonialism and multinational exploitation. Create a society which will not have discrimination against the underdog. End unemployment. Subsidize essential food items. Enhance scholarship allowances for university students. Investigate allegations of bribery, corruption and human rights violations. End the war in the North. Bring the misguided youth back into the democratic process.
The banners and flags are strung up once more. The new colourful portraits are blazoned everywhere. The loudspeakers blast out the polemic. Security precautions are taken and yet the grenades are flung. The fifth speaker and his bodyguards are blown to bits. Nilame’s opponent. Probably the other faction was responsible. Those loyal to the old campaigner. The new man hadn’t a chance. I removed the rock. Just ahead of him was the mine.
Big funeral for him too. Processions. Wreaths. Orations. The pyre was one big conflagration. The leaflets and the posters with his picture, his name and his Party’s are blown into the gutters, trampled underfoot, scraped off the walls and hoardings to give place to the new candidate. He would still have been alive if he had remained in the States.