SATIRE | Dear Datuk Seri, tears rolled down my cheeks as I started writing this. How could a man of your stature and wealth be reduced to going around with a begging bowl for expenses? I am in no position to help. Although you gave me several contracts, I am no longer having a bank account with a hefty balance.
This letter comes from a mountain retreat – a monastery – where I am not exactly atoning for my past debaucheries and turpitudes. I am in hiding on the pretext of meditating. I am supposed to be cut off from modern-day trappings like mobile phones and access to the Internet, but there’s nothing money cannot buy.
Remember? You told us all that cash is king!
You will recall the sadhu (sage) whom I had brought to bless you and Datin Seri at your home on several occasions? He was the long-haired and bearded man who threw sea-shells and foresaw the future for both of you. He should not be mistaken for the bald-bearded and bare-bodied priest who carried out the prayers and made the offerings on your behalf...