By Jagath Asoka –
My sweet Gods, hhm my hordes, I really want to see you Goads; I really want to love you my hordes, but it took so long my hordes, Halleluiah, Mage Mamas, Mage Horas (a Hymn by Asarana Dr. J. H. U. Gay Wimal Gammanpila)
Dr. Mahinda and Gotabaya Rajapaksa are my Gods. Yesterday, I converted my house into Rajapaksa-Temple-Shrine: I burnt all my books, threw all my statues of gods and goddess, built two statues of Mahinda and Gotabaya in front of an eternal flame, and started looking at them, with adoration, without blinking my eyes; I do not eat, sleep, or make love because I am in love with my Gods, transfixed with absolute fear and adoration.
So all you idiots out there, stop blaming my Gods and start worshipping them, 10 times a day, because five is not enough; turn your heads towards their Rajapaksa-Temple-Shrine and pray! You must worship their entire family because they are the Pantheon of Gods in this universe; why are you blaming my Gods for everything that has happened since this universe was—some 15 billion years ago—created by them with a Big Ban. My Gods, I am going to visit Sri Lanka soon, please permit me to take a photograph with you, because I want the entire world to know that you are my Gods. With this picture in my hand I can rule this world. I want to make 7 billion copies of your photo—both of you together in it—and distribute it to every single citizen on this planet earth; if necessary I will send them to other planets as well, so that they can pray to both of you 10 times a day; all the temples, churches, synagogues, mosques, and kovils must get a copy so that people can worship you, along with their other gods; Muslims and Jews will obey, too, even though it is a sacrilege to worship pictures in mosques and synagogues.
I am the first one to build this Temple-Shrine for Rajapaksa, not CUDU DHUMINDA. Your temple has no doors and windows; always open for public. You crazy Sri Lankans from all over the world, visit Rajapaksa Temple-Shrine in Newtown, PA, USA; if you do not have money, do not worry Mihin Lanka is giving free tickets, liquor, and even prostitutes during your plight; they will build a new airport tomorrow in Newtown and provide Mercedes Benz cars, food, liquor, sex with unlimited amount of women of all races, and Viagra, if you cannot get an erection. China is providing funds for this project; this is not another Chinese loan that we will not be able to pay back with prostitution; this is a gift from China, not a bribe. If you want to visit the Rajapaksa Shrine, please send a money order to the following email address: email@example.com. If you want to bring cash, please bring it with you and give it to my son before you enter. We accept all currencies. If you do not have money, please do not worry. Chinese-Rajapaksa-Fund will give it to you; just worship them every day, at least ten times a day for a week to see magical results; you, your children, siblings, relative, and friends will never have to work anymore if you worship my gods. If you have any enemies, just let my gods know, and they will make them disappear without a trace just by mentioning your enemies’ names. CIA, KGB, FBI, and MI5 work for my Gods.
My Gods, I am not like your slave CUDU DHUMINDA, who killed your faithful servant Bharathalakshman JOB; I have built a Shrine dedicated only to you; this temple will never be destroyed like the one in Jerusalem because both of you reside in this Temple-Shrine forever. My gay American Muslim neighbor Mervin Stupid Silva who lives with his gay partner Dr. J. H. U. Wimal Gammanpila (he has a PhD from Johns Hopkins University) wrote these hymns for you, which they sing ten times a day over the TV (brand name: ITNRupavahini) which I have kept in front of your statues. Thank you my gay-Muslim-lover Mervin and Gay Gammanpila; I do not have to sing your songs; thank you for singing it for me. Oh, I almost forgot: my other next door lesbian neighbor Dilkha Pottamali who is a fake anchor for 360 CNNDERAN program, but she once beat the hell out of my ex-pros friend Paba Rajapaksa, who has become a Passa-pros now.
Mervin’s hymn: I am your one-and-only-one; I am your ever-loving-one; I am your-one-and-only Lanka Lamisssi
Ethakota don’t say palayan I am your Gamay Gas Goyan; I am your-one-and-only Lanka Lamisssi
Sweet Rajas, come to me; I am your-one-and-only Lanka Lamisssi
Ethakota don’t say palayan I am your Gamay Gas Goyan; I am your-one-and-only Lanka Lamisssi
One more thing my Gods; there is a big mouth money launderer called Harsha Maddog De Silva who talks about my Lords’ Ponzi schemes; and an unctuous Muslim-Christian monk called Kiribathgoda maduluwawe Ganannada sobitha who talk about changing your Ten Commandments; please just utter their names to make them disappear because they are my enemies, and I truly abhor them. Do you think people will start worshipping the Ex-Mother-Goddess Vijaya-Chandrika? Your retinues—Nil Wickramasinge, AwaJith Kamakemadasa, and the rest I cannot remember, so please visit http://www.parliament.lk/ for their real names—are just sleeping and farting my Gods.
Here it is:
My Real Name is Panangadan Krishnan Jagath Asoka; I am also known as Jay Asoka, Jagath Asoka, Jay Panangada, and Jagath Panangadan. Bhante Rathnadeera and Eshanthi are my clones. So far I have only two clones because my lab exploded last night, but I am going to fix it and make 23 million clones of myself because I want all of you to see my picture everywhere you look, even in your dreams. On my US passport I am Jagath Panangadan, and I am not a Sri Lankan citizen anymore because Mr. Mahinda Ponna Samarasinghe and Dr. Ulama Ponna Peretha Peris would not approve it. I want to keep my Sri Lankan citizenship because I really hate Sri Lanka. I will give you a hundred-thousand US dollars if you can get my citizenship on Yesterday, not tomorrow. Please sent me an email, if you can, and I will provide it in this article; just stop reading my babble and look for it.
I was born in Modera, Colombo-15, during Sinhala-Tamil clashes in 1958; my father had to hide because people thought he was a Tamil; so my Sinhala- bigoted grandmother walked with my mother to the Modera maternity clinic, because there was a curfew on the night—Friday the 13th—I was born; My mother told this story on my birthday, every year, until she joined the Buddha in 2009.
My father was from Kerala, India: he came to Sri Lanka when he was just thirteen with a family friend, just a penniless orphan; my father was a kallathoni; my mother Edirisooriya Maddumage Nandawahi was from Matara, Sri Lanka. My mother had annoyed my father daily until he bought a house in Inner Flower Road. It took him sixteen years. You know the rest of the story.
My father Panangadan Raman Krishnan joined his Father Vishnu in 1978 when I was a freshman at Kharkov State University; he was an astute businessman and a polyglot; I did not inherit his business acumen or language skills; he spoke the Sinhala Language like Jarapassass. I lived in Modera until I was ten; I spent most of my childhood at the church and the Hindu and Buddhist Temples in Modera. I received my first education from the nuns who were at this Church. Later, I went to Prince College, Kotahena; after a week, they put me in grade two; I was still bored because I had no interest in what they taught me; so I would imagine things just to entertain myself; I got into trouble because I was not listening to my teaches, but I was the first in my class. Later, I studied at Mahanama where I earned a grade-seven scholarship. I earned it because of Mrs. Vimala Nissanka. Then I went to Nalanda, even though I lived down Inner Flower Road, just a five-minute walk from Royal College. Dr. Ranjani De Silva taught me Organic Chemistry at Nalanda, the easiest subject for me because I did not have to spend time leaning it. Of course, all my teachers were caring and loving like Mrs. Vimala and Dr. Ranjani. My teachers dropped Panangadan Krishnan from my name because they thought I would never enter our medical colleges in Sri Lanka; but I did not change my name; I sat for GCE/ AL as Panangadan Krishna Jagath Asoka in 1977; I was on the list to go to medical school because I found it out from Mr. P. B. Ratnayake, who was my neighbor; then the government changed, and I was dropped from the list; I never wanted to study in Russia or study chemistry, but I did it just to satisfy my mother; my father had become a rich-communist, but he did not want me to study in Russia; my mother won simply because I obeyed her. Once she saved my life, because I was about to kill someone for using profanity to insult her; I learned Buddhism from her; she was and is my Buddha; my father was and is my God. But the Buddha always wins as it always should be. Even I had the best results among all the high school graduates who went to Russia in 1977, I was not given a chance to peruse my dream because the two scholarships that were given for medicine that year were given to others because they had good-luck and influence, and I did not. Later, my family took a different name, and I officially changed it for them because I wanted them to be alive in Sri Lanka; I did not want to change my name even when I taught at Kelaniya and Ruhuna universities; I never carried an ID in Sri Lanka. When the police stopped me at check points, I gave a name of one of my Sinhalese friends. Since I spoke Sinhala like any other Sinhalese and drove a car, I never had any trouble. I kept my name and gave it to my son Rocco because when my mother had suggested to my father of changing our names, he had cried; never said a word against her decision because my mother and father wanted us to be alive in Sri Lanka. Rocco is beautiful like his Italian mother. They are just one person in two different bodies; I tease them because of my ennui (I love dictionaries just like all of you).
I am not a writer; just a schizophrenic, naked megalomaniac who wants attention. I am jobless but I need around ten thousand dollars minimum, a month, to live this puny life here in the US, so my rich Uncle Sam supports me. But he also tempts me like he tempted the Buddha and God; He says, “I want You! You are so good, so join us, and I will protect you from any harm and make you super rich; you will be omnipotent and omniscient. We know all about you, and you will never be like our own Snowden son Edward; you are our adopted profligate son. I said to my uncle, “I am not your son, just an orphan like my father. Please do not tease and tempt me! Please leave me alone because I am busy with my son, and I just want to play tennis. That is all I want; I do not need you, just your money. My Russian, German, British, and other international and American rich and powerful Uncles are not bothering me. My Russian Uncle did once when I was in Ukraine, but he failed because I bribed him. He recently contacted me and said, “Please visit your Alma Mater, because she misses you.” To all my Uncles, I have said very politely, “I love all of you equally, and I do not favor any one; but if I decide to serve, I can serve only one Uncle—my dear Uncle Sam—because I am not a polytheist. One of my uncles was listening to our conversation, an idiot with a demented soul; his name is Stupid Jim Small Dick; once Softly said to me, because I always ignore him, “Go and learn the difference between an atheist and a polytheist!” I said to him, “I am like my father and my mother, a devout Hindu-Buddhist, but I am calling myself an omnireligiophile just to piss you off.”
I do not have a Ph.D. I just made it up because I wanted my students at Monmouth University to call me Dr. Jay Asoka, and I just wanted people to think that I am really smart. I am just a stupid theognostic.
My first Marriage:
When I asked permission to marry a beautiful, kind, Sinhala-Buddhist doctor whom I loved and had known for seven years, during this process, her father once said to me ”You fucking Tamil Bastard.” My response was, “Insult my parents with every word that you know, and I will listen to you until you are done with your hatred.” He dropped the phone immediately, and we never spoke again even though we saw each other at his house, with his daughter as my wife, just before I left Sri Lanka. All my friends and colleagues know about my parents and my background; once a Sinhala Buddhist who studied with me said, “You belong to the lowest caste in Sri Lanka, lower than the pariahs in India because your father is a Tamil-Hindu and your mother is a Sinhala-Buddhist.” My father was a Malayali, known as “Kochchi” in Sri Lanka because Kochi is a major city in Kerala.
My Last Wish: My father was a Hindu, mother a Buddhist, and my son a Catholic. I want my son to marry a Tamil-Muslim and raise my grandchildren as Jews.
My Dream Job: To Obtain a Second-rate Desperate Ambassadorship to marry Navi Pillay in Geneva, hopefully this March.
My Best Friend: Linda Seneviratne, the Laptop Licking she-male Journalist.
Well, this is not the full picture, but Enough is Enough! Allthingsmustendbye!