POLITICS

Cyanide Pill - The hottest subject in town

By Henry Holdenbottle

There is a section of the human race that will insist on writing a novel or novelette. You might scream no. You might pass the word over the larynx with all the vim at your disposal, but some authors are relentless. Sort of like the crusaders of yore. Nothing stops them. Not without a modicum of dismay does one realise that books can now be written on any subject or involve any person. Publishers, bless their commercial hearts, are willing to back anything these days. No sense of discernment, that's what. I suppose is comes as no surprise to a man who has seen 64 summers in various parts of the globe that now the hottest subject going is our very own Cyanide Pill. Soon we shall have him writing a book about himself, the Life And Times Of The Black Adder or I Am The Way The Truth And The Life or a surefire best seller The Cyanide Way.

It will not set my weak heart pounding uncontrollably to learn that the chap is signing copies of his new book at respectable bookstores around the country, while bowing to his supporters in a regal sort of way, rather like some ancient Dravidian imposter, acknowledging the plaudits of the idiot mob.

It is somewhat ironic that a book is now out by Narayan Swamy published by Vijitha Yapa containing within its covers the inside of the elusive mind of Pirapaharan.

For a man who has so often been privy to the insides of scores of men and women, not to mention children, the innards and the splattered brains of thousands, just by giving an order to detonate a bomb, I now find it rather pleasing that we will be able to see into at least a part of what is inside him. Thank God for Narayan Swamy.

But whether it is an 'elusive' mind is of course another matter. The pimpernel I will readily admit was elusive. Truth is sometimes elusive. But whether the mind of the Cyanide Pill is elusive or otherwise is hard to tell.

A victim of one of his bombs might call it a criminal mind. A victim of one of his negotiations might call it a devious one. But whether the gray matter of this pill is elusive, I of course cannot tell with any certainty. Let me read the book, and I'll get back to you on the subject.

I suppose there is nothing better than curling up in a cosy corner with a book on Pirapaharan and other despots such as Idi Amin., Hitler and Attila the Hun.

All one needs apart from the book and the cosy corner is a dish of tea at the ready and a plate of mung kavun on the side. No doubt one must make sure that the serenity of the cosy corner is not shattered by a stray bomb falling near by. This is essential to reading a good book.

On the subject of books, if there is one thing good about life, it is that you can always write a book if you fail in everything else. Odds fish dear readers, you can write about your failures and become a success over night.

I'm no soothsayer, though I admit I once read a few palms at a particularly bohemian party in my salad days, that no sooner our backs are turned, the shelves of respectable book stores will be teaming, simply teaming with books on the subject of this Cyanide Pill.

Mark my words, some ghost writer will soon be creaking the elbow writing the autobiography of Mr. Pee. But enough about that. Judge of my surprise last week to learn that Cyanide has completely overhauled his wardrobe and gone back to donning the old battle rags.

I never cared for his fashion sense I must tell you, but this is an outrage. I mean to say only a few months ago the likes of Michael Wijesuriya would have been jumping with joy thinking that they can now add one more notorious personality on to their list of clientele. Ramzi was able to dream about giving the chap a well deserved facial. Ramani might have conjured up a hip coiffure for the man. Kirthi Sri was undoubtedly all agog pen at the ready, waiting to write in the fashion pages about this new addition to the cocktail circuit.

And what does the bally chap do? He totally defies the advice of those who walk the ramp and goes back to the combat look. He probably wants people to walk the plank again. Maybe if he went to Paris with the rest of his pals he could have taken a dekko at some of the newest Parisian creations.

I wish somebody would tell him the combat look went out some years ago. Really, that man needs the police after him. I mean, of course, the fashion police.

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