Gordon, David and Emmanuel: Notes for a post-LTTE drama
There is a man called Gordon Brown.
I have something to say to him. Here goes:
Mr. Brown, your country is yet to compensate mine for crimes against
humanity, genocide, plunder of resources, insults and humiliation. I
know you are going through a hard time, so let me conservatively say ‘50
billion pounds’. To begin with. That would be the first instalment of a
series of annual payments spread through a decade (adding to a total of
500 billion pounds, which is just a fraction of what you’ve extracted
over the past two centuries).
This Brown, he has problems. He’s on his way out, according to
opinion polls from Britain. The man is desperate. Desperate situations
call for desperate responses, I know, but I really didn’t think Brown
and the Labour Party were in such dire straits. And I know that Brown is
a citizen of a country that really doesn’t care about the track records
of those they choose to bed with. Still, I was a bit surprised to find
out that things have got so bad that Brown and Miliband and the Labour
Party had to go beg for political support from a bunch of
The two had been seen crawling around a hall where a shady outfit
called Global Tamil Forum was having a meeting. I am imagining the
Gordon and David, all smiles, saluting terrorists and terrorism every
17 seconds. Fr. Emmanuel, a living embarrassment to the Catholic Church
(or maybe not, considering that no apology has been made from that
quarter about the activities of this LTTE apologist), is blessing the
‘May the spirit of (Sun) God bless you my sons. I know how hard you
tried to save our Sun God, Velupillai Prabhakaran. I know it would not
have been easy to do this since you are not showing that kind of concern
to the Al Qaeda and Osama bin Laden.’
I must interrupt the narration, sorry: ‘Hey Gordon, 50 billion is a
number you have to remember bro, ok?’
Back to Emmanuel, Father, sorry.
‘You’ve shown so much concern about Tamil people living in IDP
facilities in Sri Lanka. I must applaud you for being silent on the fact
that our poor Sun God, in reduced circumstances, could offer them only
one glass of kunjee a day and was forced to shoot those who tried to
escape. I must thank you for ignoring the fact that these IDPs enjoy
better living standards than a lot of Sinhalese villagers in areas our
boys had to march through, tossing grenades and waving machetes in gay
abandon. I will not forget that you deliberately chose to ignore all
that your government has been up to in Iraq and Afghanistan and the
human consequences of acting as understudy to Uncle Sam.’
Interruption: Lordy Gordy Pudding and Pie Baby, 50 billion smackers,
remember? And that’s pounds.
Over to you Father (sic):
‘I am sure people are going to ask you some questions about your
culpability over Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay, the torture, the
illegality, the lack of due process, the inhumanity etc.., about your
role in turning 250,000 people into IDPs in Pakistan during the year
2009, and of course about supporting sanctions that killed half a
million children in Iraq.’
David, tell Gordon, in case he forgets, that we don’t want cheques.
He can pay in hard cash or gold. And by the way, all the loot stashed
away in the British Museums and other places are highly returnable, ok?
Yes, Fr. Emmanuel, you were saying?
‘Dear Gordon, My Lord Prabhakaran, wherever the hell he may be right
now, will no doubt be blessing you for speaking about the people he is
said to have held hostage and how now enjoy the most basic of human
rights, the right to live (which, unfortunately he did not have the
ability to grant them), especially because you’ve chosen to remain
silent about the 4.2 million Iraqis displaced and living in areas
bordering Syria and Jordan in make shift camps since 2003.’
Gordon and David are swooning with joy at this point because they’ve
been told that some Tamils might consider voting for the Labour Party.
They break into a chant:
Fr. Emmanuel screams from the pulpit: ‘Let us pray!’
‘Yipee, let’s do that, let’s pray, we like praying, it’s our national
pastime and the secret of the wealth we have and the power we used to
enjoy until some people in Boston decided to have a tea party,’ David
Miliband remembers his scholar father and becomes historical.
Gordon Brown can’t exactly be historical, he chooses to be hysterical
and starts rolling on the floor.
I am not sure if this is how it happened, but if there’s a subtext to
the pantomime the above would not be far off the mark.
My friend Seyed writes that Gordon’s partner in these crimes of
omission and commission, Robert Blake ought to listen to Michael
Jackson’s song ‘Man in the Mirror’. I think the Global Tamil Forum
should consider using it as the anthem of the organization. They should
make it mandatory for their membership to hang the following quote above
their beds, dining tables, around their necks and plaster it across
‘I’m starting with the man in the mirror. I’m asking him to change
(female members can switch ‘women’ for ‘man’, ‘her’ for ‘him’ and
‘her’ for ‘his’).
And by the way, Brown and Miliband, I was serious. Fifty billion
pounds. Before you get hoofed out of office by the people in your