In a sudden rush of blood to the brain, your favourite Sunday columnist decided to get his hair cut just the other day. Now if you have seen me of late, you will know that "thinning thatch" only begins to describe the state of my once-flourishing mop.
Samson had nothing on me in the old days… but the wages of sin - which is to say an excess of hair gel and unrepentant helmet-wearing have worn down to a stump the glory that was my luxuriant long locks.
Never fear, the Lord will restore my late lamented mane in kingdom come. But I feel we have wandered off the straight and narrow path that led me to my biannual appointment with the barber. (Yes, dears, it is that bad - Ichabod!)
Enter ex-Samson into salon. Greeted by barber (not Delilah).
"Hello sir, after a loan time?" (Verbatim quote.)
"Yes, now can afford to cut hair only once a year."
Stunned silence. "Why sir is-saying that is?" (Verbatim!)
"Things have gone from bad to worse, no?"
"Care-pool sir, is-saying bad things like that and all!" (You get it now…)
"Why men, will the white van come and get me? Ha, ha, ha!"
"Aiyo sir, doan be to laughing, now time can't tell true things, no."
There are only a handful of places left these days where you can get people to talk freely. One of these is parliament - where chatter is cheap but policy comes at a price, usually at cost to the polity. Another is what we refer to as the propaganda office - which, not very surprisingly, has spread its tentacles to virtually every civil service establishment, state department, and institute whose salary is paid by the government.
My erstwhile mother lode on national gossip was the hair salon - before my barber became a convert to Trappist vows of silence. Now my own personal favourite forum is the ubiquitous Facebook, or FB as it is fondly known to some 900 million users worldwide (a global diaspora of diverse people-groups that is the third largest 'nation' in the world after China and India).
Of course, with change being the only constant, FB too seems to have been hit by an apathetic Stoic spirituality. Not everyone is as free and easy as they used to be in the good old days. Don't get me wrong. There is still plenty of idle chatter to pass a pleasant hour or so. But real commentary on the true state of affairs seems to have been dammed in full flow.
A plethora of pics, posts, paper clippings, and other updates were recently posted on the 'General' topic of bail, presidential pardons, long awaited release, what next for SF, etc. After all the hype and hoopla, you'd expect an outpouring of public emotion on "the return" (one dares not venture further in Tolkien vein and essay the addendum "of the king"). But no, a pall of silence descended on the proceedings. No flowers on FB to garland the newly enlarged hero… and one wonders why?
Not only are Sri Lankans being rather Spartan in holding back their sentiment from rash public expression, but a fifth column of propagandists appears to have infiltrated the ranks of Laconia. Here is one example of the succour which the powers that be receive.
The analysis of a recent Gallup poll was summarised thus: "More Sri Lankans are suffering today than before the decades-long civil war in the country which ended in 2009. One in five or more Sri Lankans have rated their lives poorly enough to be considered 'suffering' over the past three years, underscoring the challenges many continue to face as their nation heals."
The online response by irate and seemingly incredulous Sri Lankans went to the extent of conjuring Western conspiracies and uncritically supporting the status quo as being better than before. Seriously, folks? Only those who are leading far-from Spartan lives and far from the madding crowd at that will affirm that all is well after all.
Leonidas and his brave band have been pipped at the post (literally, if you understand FB terminology) and been compelled to surrender the pass (metaphorically, if you remember Greek history) to the invading Persians (allegorically, if you get my meaning: the Persians being a race who bowed and scraped to their 'king of kings').
When a courageous young lady journalist spoke out on a matter of ideals and her own conscience recently, she was hailed as more of an iconoclastic individual with an agenda or axe to grind than a gritty citizen being representative of her island-race's thinking about the state of the nation. On FB, she got more bouquets than brickbats; but overall the response to her outspoken critique of our country, warts and all, was received with a sullen or fearful absence of comment.
'Nuff said. The rest is silence!
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