The Autobiography of CBK FREE!.....Chandrika Bandaranayake Kumaratunga, President of Sri Lanka...Free copies of Graeme Wilson's book available from Crazylanka. Scroll down and read every word..................


Personally written and authorised by myself! (signed) CBK
A work in progress!
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BCK - The Authorised Autobiography of Myself
Bandaranayake Chandrika Kumaratunge

This is satire and spoof and not a personal attack on anyone. In particular, it has nothing to do with the forthcoming election!
Back to chapter 1

Chapter 2: The Arrival of The Brat!
A few months after the independence ceremony, we came to know that mummy was expecting another child. This time it would be a girl, said the astrologers. Having heard about what they had predicted about me, I was apprehensive. But dad was not too concerned. He said "Now that I have my son, I don't care whether the next one is a girl or a boy".
Looking back, it is hard to believe how things changed.
Chandrika and Anura Bandaranike
The child was born on 15th February 1949. It was a boy.
One look at Daddy convinced me that I was about to lose my favoured status. They named him An-ura Bandaranaike. I pretended that I couldn't pronounce the name Anura and instead lisped A'Ura! ('Ura' is Sinhala for pig! Fortunately the name didn't stick because over the years I have come to like him.....On and off!)

That day, dad became a different person. He was all smiles, singing and dancing. Kaffringa and choka-baila. Bailas such as 'Nurse Nona' and 'Hai Hooi Babi Achchi'. I was completely ignored by everyone. Dad even helped himself to a shot of Whisky, something he had promised not to touch. His friends had a great time. Dad said he now has a real son. Since that day, it was all Anura putha, podi eka, sonna, junior etc. etc.
Left: Anura and I (Photograph circa 1950)
I was Chandrika, Deveni Duwa, Podi Duwa, etc. etc. I was no longer the son! I had to wear lama-sariya and was never again allowed to wear pants until I went to Paris in the sixties. I cried and cried.
Around this time, my parents had to decide on a school for me and Sue. Mum used to always brag about St Bridget's. She used to tell everyone that she was forever a Bridgeteen. (She loved the teen bit, more than the bridge bit!) but dad wouldn't hear of sending us to Bridgets. "I am a convert to Buddhism; How can I send my children to a Christian school and face my supporters?" he asked. "We will send them to Visakha or Museus".
Mum was adamant. "St Bridget's" she insisted, "I am the boss". After a long-drawn war of words and some smashed up furniture and crockery, a compromise was reached. The family would move to Horagolla and we would be admitted to V/Henawatta Kumara Kumari Pasala. After all, in Ceylon, girls need not be that educated. "They can go vernacular and work for the government", Dad said.

Mum and dad decided that, when the time comes, Anura would be admitted to Royal College and groomed to follow dad.
I hated those days!
Coming soon!: My Days At St Bridget's
A multi-author effort. Thanks to KS and VM. Major contributors to this work and Crazylanka in general are entitled to a FREE COPY of Graeme Wilson's book. Establish contact with us first.....Terms and conditions apply. May be unsuitable for right thinking Sri Lankans. Unsuitable for use as household fuel..........

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A spoof publication of First published in August 2005. Illustrated by NS.