Details of this story have been blurred to protect the innocent. If it wasn’t for the mannerisms of the narrator and his audience, I would say this story is a great yarn. In the vein of recollections I have overheard on childhood trips in the kerosene lamp lit veranda of some rural rest house. The adults around their camp fire of Lion larger bottles while us kids huddled around a battered Carrom board fighting over the last reserves of precious talcum powder. The story was told by a family friend. A person who knows people in the oddest places. Even by Sri Lankan standards.
He was talking about a road trip to Jaffna – think sometime around the late 60s. Similar to the kinds of travels I have overheard and blogged about before. This particular journey ended up in Valvettithurai. Naturally the narrator knew some well off people in the area. The kind that specialised in a niche of the import exports that didn’t involve customs. A lavish dinner was prepared for the visitors. Mouth watering Jaffna cooking doing its thing with seafood fresh off the boats. Attending to the diners were numerous kids who carried goodies out of the kitchen and empty dishes from the table. One, the narrator claimed with certainty, was Velupillai Prabhakaran.
The “oh shit” vibe among the listeners told a different story. Whose details I don’t want to hear. Suffice it to say that I knew my paw wasn’t being pulled. You are of course free to decide otherwise.