However, with backing by the Maoists, the democracy activist - who was sworn in on Feb 6 - still holds the best chance of presiding over a moderately stable government that could finally pass the long-delayed constitution, analysts say.

With the help of the Maoists, whose leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal was ousted from the prime ministership - under Indian pressure in May 2009 - Mr Khanal’s Communist Party of Nepal (United Marxist Leninisit) has the support of about 60 per cent of the 601-seat legislators.

If you take away Mr Dahal’s Communist Party of India (Nepal)’s 238 seats, then Mr Khanal’s own party would hold only 22 per cent of the assembly.

Some worry that the development underscores a new polarisation in Nepal’s politics with democratic parties such as the Nepali Congress on one side, and Left wing groups bunched on the other.

Others think the Maoists will rule Nepal by proxy.

"This is going to be a case of the tail wagging the dog," said a senior Asian diplomat in Kathmandu. "Mr Khanal is a weak man and he will be led by the nose, by the Maoists. It is a matter of time that he falls."

However, it cannot be denied that a measure of stability, however tenuous, has returned to the mountain state.

Since the last government fell last June, there have been no fewer than 16 attempts to cobble together a new administration. Each time, the attempt fell through because no party could stitch together a majority.

Finally, a breakthrough was made possible because Mr Dahal, better known as Prachanda or the Fierce One, opted out of the race.

Instead, he brokered a deal with Mr Khanal, where the Maoists would secure the home ministry, while the other coveted defence portfolio would be alternated between the two sides.

Mr Khanal has not been able to deliver his end of the bargain because several key figures in his party oppose the portfolio distribution.

On the other hand, Mr Dahal has also had trouble convincing some of his key lieutenants of the wisdom of his move to concede power to Mr Khanal’s party despite holding more seats.

NOT ALL PESSIMISTIC

Not all area experts are pessimistic about Mr Khanal’s chances.

Prof S.D. Muni of Singapore’s Institute of South Asian Studies (ISAS), probably the best-known outside voice on Nepalese politics, says there is no reason to believe Mr Khanal will be any less stable than his predecessors.

The extra support that Mr Khanal requires for a two-thirds majority - the number required to pass the constitution before the May 28 deadline - will probably come from parties representing people in the low-lying plains bordering the states of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh.

"Mr Khanal has the potential to work together with the Maoists," says Dr Muni. "The only sticking point is the integration of the Maoist cadres. The army will object to any en bloc integration of the Maoists. India, and the US too, will not be comfortable."

The Maoists are said to have an estimated 19,000 fighters and demand that all be fully integrated into the Nepal Army.

That demand has been met with stiff resistance from the generals, who baulk at the thought of former guerillas sharing bunkers and living quarters with the force that took them on for almost a full decade.

The Maoist fighters now live in camps dotted around the country.

Nepalese, meanwhile, are eager to see the politicians get on with their job of administering the nation that emerged from a century and a half of monarchy in 2006.

In January, Mr Devi Prasad Regmi, a supporter of Mr Khanal’s party, slapped him in public to express his anger at the continued political wrangling in Kathmandu.

Mr Prachanda cited that incident as one reason he stepped aside to make a political solution possible.

velloor@sph.com.sg

IN AUGUST 2008, after spending a week in Colombo, I stuck my neck out to suggest in a long article for the Straits Times that Sri Lanka's long drawn civil war may finally be heading for a close.

At the time some thought I was too optimistic. The Tigers were considered invincible.

But the Tamil Tiger "headquarters" of Killinochchi fell in late December and suddenly the world sat up and took notice of an entirely new scenario developing on the island.

In May last year, I was in Colombo again when Sri Lankan troops fished out Tiger supremo Velupillai Prabhakaran's body from a lagoon.

Alongside, the army had managed to wipe out the entire leadership of the Tigers, who had, suprisingly for a guerilla force, apparently congregated at one location.

The exact circumstances of the end of the war will never be known for years. Some say the Tigers were eliminated even as they sought a surrender.

The end of the war was followed by a surge of majority-Sinhala triumphalism with huge cutouts of President Rajapaksa, Defence Secretary Gotabaya and army chief Sarath Fonseka appearing all over the populous central and south of the island.

Those posters have now disappeared. The Rajapaksas fell out with their former army chief, who then unsuccessfully mounted a political challenge for the presidency.

Fonseka was subsequently bounced out of his party office and is currently undergoing court martial.

President Mahinda Rajapaksa of Sri Lanka. PHOTO: AFP

This week, President Rajapaksa received me in his Temple Trees residence on Colombo's Galle Road for what his advisers called a "nice, long chat."

Sitting with Central Bank Governor Cabraal, Secretary to President Lalith Weeratunge and Information Director Lucien Rajakarunanayake, Mr Rajapaksa spoke for two hours in a formal interview during which he pulled no punches. He then took me indoors for an hour long informal conversation over lunch.

Ravi Velloor doing the interview with President Mahinda Rajapaksa. ST PHOTO: RAVI VELLOOR 

Here is the transcript of the formal interview:

POLL PROSPECTS

Q. You start your campaign on 19th. How would you rate the UPFA's prospects for the parliamentary poll. Do you think a two-thirds majority is possible?
A. I am very relaxed. Two-thirds or one-third is immaterial for me because when I became president I didn't have a majority. The Speaker was appointed by the opposition. After four years when I dissolved the parliament I had 47 new people, including the Speaker, in my party and I had a majority. So, I am not interested in numbers but this will be a very comfortable victory. Of course, two thirds will help to change the constitution because the opposition has never supported us on this matter.

AGENDA AFTER THE POLL

Q. What would be topmost on your agenda after the poll? With the presidential and parliamentary polls out of the way you have an open road for five years.
A. Of course, the peace settlement is a must. Then there is the economic challenge. In the four years I was president I have doubled per capita income to US$2,014 (S$2,806). My target is to double this to US$4,000 by the end of my tenure in office. Remember this took place was when the war was on. With infrastructure, development, we can do it.

We had noticed that all the development was taking place in Colombo and its neighbourhood. I think this was because all the leaders were from Colombo (guffawing). They gave roads, electricity, good schools... were only in Colombo. My intention is to build the rural economy through infrastructure. Which is why Hambantota.

Q. You are consciously shifting some of the economic weight to the South?
A. Yes, well to the whole country, including the North and South.

Q. So, there might be an international airport in Jaffna some day?
A. Yes, we might be able to do it. In the old days we used to fly from Jaffna to Tiruchy in India. At the moment I am developing the airport in the South. We will see after we finish that. Palaly airfield in Jaffna is now an air force base. If these mad fellows give up their Eelam dream — which will never happen as long as I am here — we can think about it. They must give that up.

Q. Are these pro-LTTE people still active?
A. It is more outside Sri Lanka than within the country. There are (expatriate Tamil) people living on this Eelam thing. They have their own agenda. They live on this. And the people who are collecting money abroad for the LTTE have lost their living because Tamils are not willing to contribute funds anymore. So, they want something to happen here to impress and activate them.

Many Tamils want to come back. The second generation and third generation Tamils aren't Sri Lankans really. They can't speak a word of Tamil or Sinhala. It's true for Sinhalese outside as well. But a lot of the educated people who went abroad, they have come here. From Canada I had a lawyer... leads a very comfortable life there, but he wants to come and invest and work here.

Right-thinking people know they can come and do business here. In Colombo, business is largely controlled by Tamils. We had 90 per cent Sinhalese some 30 years ago, but now the Sinhalese are 27 per cent. The approach to my house is lined by Muslim Tamil homes on both sides. The other day I called all of them into my home for a meal.

Q.What about the executive presidency. Will you dilute its powers as you promise?
A. It is up to the parliament. Parliament has passed these things, so let the parliament decide.

Q. But Parliament will do what you tell them to do.
A. I know… or I hope so (laughing). But I think some things will need to change. I would prefer a president answerable to parliament or give up all this and have a prime minister answerable to parliament. And maybe retire, and give advice to the government like Lee Kuan Yew — as a Mentor. But look, if I did not have this executive presidential system could I have ended this war?

Q. In your WSJ article you promised to now build a "nation for all".
A. The opportunity is there for all, including politically? Do you know my Cabinet? It is inclusive of all main communities…

Q. Well I do know that you have some 108 ministers out of a parliament of just 225 MPs...
A. No, no... (laughing). This is wrong. Cabinet is 51 members, the rest are junior and other ministers although they call themselves ministers. All ministers get the salaries of an MP. The only thing is they get personal staff and red lights on vehicles. We did an assessment and the additional costs of all these people is about Rs 49 million every month.

For one four-star general in the army (a reference to Fonseka), with 600 people looking after him, and his two houses and all the other houses no one knows where or how many he had, it cost 20 million Rupees a month.

Q. You say you want to see Sri Lanka as the Singapore for South Asia. What do you mean by that?
A. No, that is not what I said. I always say Sri Lanka is for Sri Lankans. It is not a Singapore model, although I am impressed by its growth. Some people want to make this into a Singapore or New York or Dubai but I always said Sri Lanka should become a model for by itself. In the 1960s Lee Kuan Yew said he wanted to build Singapore up like Sri Lanka.

Q. What is this model Sri Lanka you have in mind?
A. To be a hub for education, for aviation. shipping, communications and tourism. We are building five ports around the country. We are expanding Colombo Port, we are building Hambantota. There is Kankesanthurai in the North. And we aren't mentioning Trincomalee because it is a naval base at the moment. We are building a new international airport after 60 years.

When I went to Kandy they said you are building ports and airports in Hambantota but you aren't giving us anything. I said if you can bring the sea through the Mahaveli irrigation project I can consider a port for you. One can think of a seaplane facility at the Victioria Reservoir. I am surprised at some of the things that even educated people can say.

RECONCILIATION AND A POLITICAL SETTLEMENT WITH TAMILS

Q. You wrote about a "full reconciliation program". What does this mean?
A. This is what I believe. That without peace, there is no development. And without development, there is no peace. You go to a village or a farm and go to a student or a man who is in a relief camp and ask him. Do you want constitutional amendments? Their answer invariably is: 'We want a house', or 'we want to educate my child. We want electricity.' This is what they will ask.

If you develop these areas there will be a new generation that will emerge and new politicians. This is why I went for elections knowing that people in the north of Sri Lanka will not support me. Actually I was surprised I got a quarter of the votes polled there. I went there, spoke to them in Tamil. They knew development was coming. It shows development has value.

Q. What would be the political contours of this program? What pieces do you need to put in place in order to get there?
A. This is what I want to discuss with the new MPs after the election.

I visited a refugee camp once for a function. A Colombo lawyer who was supporting us said if the North and Eastern provinces could be merged that would help us. I was listening. At that point a young man got up and said: Sir, please don't divide the country again. We were traitors to our country. Better keep us under one umbrella. So, in my speech, I said he gave the answer. I will not merge North and East, I shall merge the whole country. If we concede to the merger call, the Muslims will ask for a province. After that, the Burghers could come, and there other communities, too.

Q. You don't know this boy?
A. No! He was completely unknown to me. He was from Mullaitivu (where the Tigers once held sway) I touched his muscles and they were firm and strong. I said: Good, good!

Q. Even so, isn't there some merit in the federalist principle as a solution? It has worked in India, in Switzerland.
A. Federalism is a dirty word in Sri Lanka. It is linked so much with separation. If I want to leave politics and go home, the best way is to talk of federalism. They won't accept me after that. I am a politician, no? The actual situation is, see this country. This is not an India, a huge country. You cannot forget the history of Sri Lanka.

Right now, just because all the Chief Ministers are from my party, I have some control over them. But they do have enormous powers. They even have Security Council meetings. If you give them the powers they will do whatever they want. They might say Indian Tamils cannot come here… to their areas.

Q. What about implementing the 13th Amendment? Especially, handing over police powers and control over land to Provincial Council governments?
A. We must discuss with them. The 13th Amendment is there. Other than the police powers we have given them all the powers to the provincial councils. We have nothing to do with land. What can I do when there has been no Provincial Council in North? But there must be some (central) control. I have seen people even giving away irrigation reservoirs to friends and business partners to be filled up.

As for police powers, knowing my people, I would say, please do not devolve that power. See what happened when Sonia Gandhi went to Uttar Pradesh (and Chief Minister Mayawati, who is opposed to the Congress party, denied her permission to enter her constituency). They are fighting for control of the police. You know, chief ministers are chief ministers.

I have learnt from India. You think I would make the same mistake? See what happened in Mumbai. It took eight hours to fly in the National Security Guard commandos because they needed the requisite permissions.

Q. Would you say the LTTE is gone for good?
A. No. There are sleeping cadres and there are interested parties, especially outside Sri Lanka. That will take time. It has been just nine months since the war ended... Just because the leaders were eliminated, it is not over. The movement will take some more time.

There are sleeping cadres, trained suicide bombers. They were a factory of suicide bombers. They were in Colombo, they are outside in various countries. Interested parties can try and make use of them, although I don't think it will happen. The suicide killer jacket they designed and made was marketed abroad. That is why we need the international community to help us on this. They are not operating from here.

Q. Does this impede your free movement?
A. I cannot sit here and say because of this I cannot move around. I have been a grassroots politician and I was with the people. Isolation from the people is something I cannot dream about.

When I heard about the killings of 64 people in a bus bomb attack, three months after I was sworn in, we were at a meeting. I said let's just go there. But security needed two hours to prepare. Finally, the helicopters were called. People were shocked that I had reached there within a matter of two hours.

You have to take a risk. You just cannot hide away although security would like to do that — they like to isolate us. Now, the JVP and Fonseka factor is there so we have to be a little more careful. The threat is not from the LTTE alone. As for the LTTE, in the villages, once an outsider comes they immediately know. But the Fonseka factor is another thing today...

TAMIL QUESTION

Q. How are your Tamil lessons shaping up? Where have you reached?
A. Progressing. I even try to make speeches in Tamil these days.

Q. You said you would call the Tamil parties after the polls. But who would you talk to? Would you have problems finding an interlocutor, seeing very few credible Tamil names around. Who do you deal with if the UPFA sweeps the polls?
A. This is the problem with them. The Tamils are divided. I will call them for talks but of course, they can’t ask for what the LTTE asked. There will be a new generation of Tamils.

Yesterday, I saw a lot of Indian workers in the South. They come on three-month holiday visas. I saw them working on threshing and harvesting machines. So I was saying that you can’t go anywhere in the country without seeing Indians workers everywhere. Even in my village. They are willing to work for half the pay and work longer hours, day and night. .

Q. Do you have specific programs targeted at bringing Tamils into the mainstream, such as into army and police?
A. We have already started that. In the East we have already hired nearly 500 to the Police. In the North, for police we have selected about 450 from Jaffna. I told them, these boys are trained. Just teach them some law. If the army is disciplined — and this is why I am keen to discipline the army — they will have the national feeling.

THE FONSEKA ISSUE

Q. What are your feelings toward Fonseka? Cannot Fonseka be accomodated under this national reconciliation you are planning?
A. He is a fool. On 16th November he was sitting right here and I asked him if he was interested in contesting (the presidential election) and he said, No, sir... I haven't made up my mind. Even on the day of his last visit he didn't tell me.

So I advised him. I told him that politics is not the army. In the army, when you have an order they follow. In politics you give order and they react in a different way. I told him you are going to people whom you have criticized. So he said that also is politics, no? I said, be careful. One day they will drop you. I told him, whatever he might think, I know this game and I am going to win this election. Whoever is my opponent doesn’t matter to me. Of course, after my victory, you can come and see me whenever you want.

But his whole campaign was one of mud-slinging. I could have stopped him contesting, because he couldn’t retire until I permitted him to. I could have just sat on his retirement request until after the nomination papers were filed and that would prevent him from contesting. But I let him contest. I didn't want people to say I was frightened. I told the army they could do whatever they wanted to on any evidence they had, after the elections. He was on holiday in China when the war was in its last days.

Do you know that when I was in remand — I was in remand for three months back in 1985 — I didn't get the comfort he is getting. My mother was gravely ill and they wouldn't allow me to see her. When I went to the hospital she was already gone. But if I pardon him what about army discipline? What about the court martials of other officers? What can I do! This is the British law. They gave it to India and us. Fonseka himself put thousands of soldiers under court martial. At one time the figure was 8,500. I shouted at him and I had to release them.

Do you know he wanted to increase the size of the army to 450,000? I asked him how much do you have now? He said 200,000. And I said, now that the war is over, you want 450,000? He said 'Every village you have to guard. You have to be careful. Cannot release these fellows (IDPs) for three years.' He said there are external threats. So I asked, who he was talking about? 'And he said, India'. India's standing army is 1.5 million, its paramilitary forces are about 1 million. So what can 450,000 do against 2.5 million? I told him, let me worry about external forces.

This fellow had placed cash of 700,000 dollars (S$975,534) in a bank after the elections. This man put it in lockers not regular deposits. And that was only half the money and only because the locker wasn't big enough to take more.

Q. How convinced are you about the charges against him? He was accused of plotting a coup, but those charges don't appear to have been formally laid.
A. There was something going on. I cannot discuss all details as inquiries and legal proceedings are on. He was moving special forces to Colombo and forces that he considered were loyal to him — he comes from the Sinha Regiment. This was told to me earlier but I never took it seriously. And he was harbouring deserters. It is up to the police and security forces to frame the charges. It is not for me to get involved. Let them handle it. Whether he is found guilty or not guilty is not my concern. But the procedure must go on. The law must be enforced irrespective of persons.

FOREIGN POLICY

Q. What options are opening up now there is peace?
A. We are a non-aligned country. That is our approach. I do not have to shape policy as such. Anybody who helped me I was ready to accept. But unfortunately, the countries decided on themselves not to help us in development work or in the fight against terrorism. I treat everybody equal. But you must understand India, of course. India is our neighbour. We must have good relations whether in war or in peace.

Q. Will the Comprehensive Economic Partnership Agreement go through with India soon?
A. This is what I just told you. Without the Cepa, the Indians are already working here. If you try to introduce it the way that people mind it... (that would be counterproductive). we cant enforce it by force. Let the businessmen decide and when they realise that this will benefit them. Then automatically they will push for it. I think that urge is taking shape now. PM Manmohan Singh understands this, too.

Q. Stepped up military ties with India now that the Tamil factor is no longer relevant? Would you start buying arms from India?
A. We don't need such arms now. When a shipload of arms arrived from China after the war — this was arms ordered by our friend Fonseka — I had to turn it back. We don't need that much of arms and ammunition anymore.

Q. How do you view the rise of China and what opportunities does it offer Sri Lanka?
A. My view is now India has taken up development in the whole North. A lot of railway line restoration there is done by the Indians. That doesn't mean Sri Lanka has been captured by India.

Now take Hambantota port. It was offered to India first. I was desperate for development work. But ultimately the Chinese agreed to build it. Take Treasury bonds. Who controls it? The bulk is invested by Americans. Now take sovereign bonds. Who controls it? The British. China is only doing development work. We have to pay back their loans.

Q. Every analyst talks of Hambantota. Will there be a Chinese naval base there one day?
A. I was interested in that harbour and port in Hambantota for the last 30 years. As I said my economic policy was not to develop only Colombo. I know that China is not interested in putting a naval base here. I will not allow this country to be used against any other country. Whether it is China, India, Pakistan... we are a non-aligned country.

PERSONAL

Q. One complaint heard widely in the island is that there are too many Rajapaksas. What do you say to that?
A. Oh, that is true. But for that matter how many Kennedys were there in administration. Or Bushes. Or the Gandhis. I have only two brothers in administration.

Q. But you also have a nephew now running Uva Province.
A. But he was elected. He got the highest votes. He went for an election. The Rajapaksas have a 76 year history of electoral politics. We don't know any other business. (Guffaws). Our business is elections, both winning and losing… although you will hear we own appam shops and thosai shops. I must admit I am the only one who didn't sell my property to contest elections. My father did it. Every election he would sell his land.

Q. What are your hopes for your son Namal who is contesting the parliamentary poll next month? The official government website carries this line: 'If Sri Lanka is to develop at a rapid pace, Namal Rajapaksa should have the controlling authority.' Do you agree?
A. He has new ideas. But he has to be a back bencher. But knowing Namal he isn't using my name as such. He never accompanies me on my campaigns. He has his youth organisation for the last four or five years. When he was a student he wanted to join the party. I said, No, go study first. He quietly started this organisation and started working around the country. He has addressed 260 meetings alone and without party support. He didn't go to government television. He has gone on private television — a programme called 360 degrees — when asked to say how he wished to be known as, he said, my father was known in the 1970s as G. A. Rajapaksa's son. Now they call him Mahinda Rajapaksa's father. I want one day for the President to be called Namal's father.

Q. You are poised on the brink of unprecedented power, it would appear. Shouldn't there be some check on you?
A. There is always the people and parliament. One day I will have to answer the people if I do something wrong. Not to NGOs who get their money from abroad.

Q. How would you like history to remember you?
A. As a man who loved his country and his people, and did my best to serve them.

Read more from Ravi Velloor in Thursday's edition of The Straits Times.

Read more blogs from Ravi Velloor on Sri Lanka:
Compassion & violence co-exist
A cow in my lap
The General's wife steps forward
'He was definitely planning a coup'

From the extent of their influence over their flock it is clear that India, which has shed its anaemic "Hindu rate of growth" to stand on the verge of rapid economic expansion built on consumerism, still yearns for people who can offer spiritual solace.

As the Frenchman Emile Durkheim, one of the fathers of social science, observed long ago, man's disappointments are infinite when his desires are limitless. Durkheim would call it a state of anomie.

Anomie is the state India is in, and hence: Men of God! Please hold my hand through these uncertain times.

A civilisation as ancient as India's is a repository of an ocean of knowledge. It is impossible to master all of it, but the most successful gurus, even those who have attracted controversy, have successfully tapped into a portion of it.

Internationally, the most famous Hindu holy men of our age were Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, sometimes called the guru of free love, and Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, the guru who introduced the world to Transcendal Meditation more than 50 years ago.

I never got to see either of them, although in Rajneesh's case, I missed him by an hour as he returned to his homeland after being ejected from the US. There, he had lived an opulent lifestyle, complete with a stable of Rolls Royce limousines.

Around that time, I met the god-man Chandrasswami, whose friends reportedly include the Saudi arms dealer Adnan Khashoggi and the Sultan of Brunei. He was particularly close to the late PV Narasimha Rao, India's prime minister from 1991-1996.

A journalist who was part of the Swami's innter circle took me along one day to see the Swami, who lived in a spacious upstairs apartment in South Delhi's Safdarjang Development Area. I stayed silent throughout the two hours we spent there, trying to keep scepticism off my visage.

Towards the end of our time, Chandraswami looked in my direction, perhaps puzzled that I had no favour to ask.

"Any problem?" he asked. I responded in the negative. "Come back if you have problem," he ordered. I thanked him and departed.

Interestingly, Singapore was where I met some of the most interesting modern day religious figures.

As always, I found them to be ordinary, normal people whose strength really came from being able to conceal their own worries even as they absorbed and advised on the problems of others around them.

In the late 1990s, the hotel tycoon Hari Harilela of Hongkong, celebrated a personal anniversary by throwing a huge party at his Holiday Inn Hotel off Cavenagh Road,

For some reason I was invited to the banquet and found myself sharing a table with one of the Harilela brothers and an old man with a flowing beard who looked vaguely familiar. Everyone seemed to treat him with great courtesy.

George Harilela introduced him as the family guru, Swami Satchidananda. At that moment it dawned on me this was no less than the guru who inaugurated the Woodstock Music festival in 1969, rock music's most famous day.  On that day an entire generation listened as Satchidananda, surrounded by icons such as Jimi Hendrix and Richie Havens, called music "the celestial sound that controls the whole universe."

The swami was in his mid-70s during my encounter with him. Later, a hotel manager mentioned that he'd requested  a massage, perhaps to aid his blood circulation.

Some years later, a friend who lived off Singapore's Tagore Avenue invited me to her home where the spiritual figure Sri Sri Ravishankar, propounder of the Art of Living, was in residence during a visit to Singapore.  Ravishankar, now an international figure who travels to trouble spots like Iraq and Kashmir to spread his message of peace, was my contemporary at Bangalore's St. Joseph's College. I treated him with appropriate reverence but I found him not open, or interested, to debate.

The next day as my wife and I shopped at the NTUC supermarket in Thomson Plaza I saw my friend bustling in, looking anxious. What's the panic, I asked.  "Swamiji loves Philadelphia cheese and I am out of it," she said, flitting from shelf to shelf.

Then there was Mata Amritanadamayi. Maa Amrita, as she is known. She is also called the "hugging saint", and she has risen to great spiritual heights from her birth in a lowly fisher caste. During her visits to Singapore, hundreds of her devotees would gather at a hall on Tank Road, waiting to be blessed by her and to feel the warmth she exudes.

When I went to the Andaman Islands and the southern Indian coastline a year after the devastating tsunami I found her foundation had done immense good work in her name. Many fishermen who had lost their livelihoods had been given brand new fibre-glass boats, putting them back on their feet. Since then, however, my admiration for her work has been tempered by a wariness about the people who speak in her name.

The reason for this was the violence some of her purported followers unleashed on a friend of mine, Ashwani Khurana, who made his millions in the lottery business and was once India's biggest taxpayer.

Maa Amrita has an ashram in South Delhi's Green Avenue, where Ashwani has a bungalow. Local residents, who include the former Delhi governor, have tried to keep it free of honking and huge billboards. When devotees put up a huge billboard pointing the way to the ashram, Ashwani objected. For his pains he was beaten to within an inch of his life. Maa Amrita, had she known, would surely not have sanctioned this outrage.

One person for whom my admiration us undiminished is the Sai Baba. The number of presidents and prime ministers who have called at his door are legion. The Sai Baba has his share of gimmicks, of course, such as materialising holy ash or toffees. But then I suspect this is more to assuage his followers. Indians expect their gurus to perform miracles.  Despite his vast influence, he has never tried to meddle in politics and his foundation has done immense work in education and medical care.

But among all the holy figures of the world that I have met — I have kissed Pope John Paul II's ring — there is none more human than the Dalai Lama. He is the only religious person whose photograph sits in my wallet.

Jane Perkins, a British journalist who lives in Dharamsala, the Himalayan town where he is based, once told me a story of how impish the Dalai Lama could be.

On an international flight, Jane relates, a young woman sitting next to him in First Class apparently watched stupefied as she watched His Holiness tuck into a beef steak. Unable to conceal her curiosity, she turned to His Holiness:

"Aren't you the Dalai Lama?" she asked. His Holiness looked at her. "Yes, I am," he said.

"But you are eating a beef steak," the woman sputtered. "Not all Tibetans are good people," he responded, eyes twinkling with mischief.

There is no one like the Dalai Lama for sheer charisma.

Two years ago, I was in his office in Dharamsala, waiting for His Holiness to address the media. I sat in the left corner of the front row, next to the door from which he would enter. Behind me a British television journalist had set up her camera, the lens just above my right shoulder. She had warned me not to rise, lest I block her camera.

But how do you not stand up when such a presence approaches you? As His Holiness approached along the corridor I began to rise instinctively. The woman behind me put a restraining hand on my shoulder and I sat back. But six feet away from him I couldn't control myself. I began to get up. This time the woman behind me was rougher, thrusting me down even as I tried to wriggle aside.

His Holiness noticed this and as he passed me, he stopped, grinned, and gave me a resounding clap on the shoulder.

He then walked to his seat.

For days after that I walked around in a trance-like state; I've never felt so good about being struck by somebody!

Read more about the 'god-men' of India in The Sunday Times.

India's minister of state for external affairs, Shashi Tharoor, is in the news again. ST PHOTO: Joseph Nair

India's minister of state for external affairs, by mentioning Saudi Arabia as a "valuable interlocutor" on India's testy relationship with Pakistan, is being blamed for suggesting that the oil-rich Islamic kingdom has been invited to be a mediator in the Sub-continent's longest running dispute.

This, according to the self-styled guardians of Indian foreign policy, runs counter to New Delhi's longstanding position.

Dr Tharoor has had to clarify his remarks and once again, the media has seen a sitting duck and is unloading barrels of buckshot on the first-term MP and minister.

Poor Tharoor.

And just when we thought he had learnt his lesson from last year's fiasco; when he Tweeted about the government's austerity measures forcing him to "fly cattle class" so as to propitiate "our holy cows". He nearly lost his job at the time. Surviving by the skin of his teeth  only because of Prime Minister Manmohan Singh's resolute backing. Dr Singh, who is approaching 80, suggested at the time that India should learn to lighten up.

What was so wrong in calling the Saudis useful interlocutors?

As Prime Minister Singh's post-visit remarks to Saudi Arabia showed so clearly, Pakistan was, indeed, discussed in Riyadh. Clearly, Singh has asked King Abdullah to use his influence in Islamabad to get them to listen more closely to New Delhi's concerns about the terror attacks against India that are often planned from its soil.

So, Tharoor wasn't wrong. He was merely being frank. What then is the problem? To understand why Tharoor raises so much dust you have to study his background.

He is a high achiever from a middle class family whose roots are in Kerala. Educated in Mumbai and Kolkata, and at New Delhi's prestigious St. Stephen's College, he had a solid record in both academics and extra curricular activity such as debating. After getting a PhD from the Fletcher School of Diplomacy at Tufts University at an incredibly young age, he succeeded in entering the UN, a career he had dreamed of while most of his peers aimed no higher than entering the civil service in India.

As a student in New Delhi, Tharoor's highest ambition was to be the UN Secretary General. As he worked his way up the UN system, rising to the post of Under Secretary General under Koifi Annan, he was even more convinced that this was within his grasp.

And so, even though his chances were hopeless — the US had made it clear it wanted Ban Ki Moon and the UN's top man has never come from states such as India — Tharoor convinced PM Singh and Congress President Sonia Gandhi that he had a fighting chance.

This enraged the Indian Foreign Service, which was compelled to expend valuable international goodwill in a fight it had no chance of winning.

Predictably, Tharoor lost and although he came second in the first and second round of balloting for the post, that really was little comfort.

It was a loss of face that India could have avoided. But Tharoor's good looks, charm, erudition and oratory helped prevent a closer examination of that fiasco.

His problems started when he decided to parlay his enhanced public profile in India into a political career at home.

PM Singh gave him a ticket to stand from Trivandrum, capital of Kerala, his home state. Instantly, he went up against entrenched Congress party interests. Local Congress-wallahs refused to back him and only a visit by Mrs Gandhi made them show some interest in Tharoor's campaign.

The man with the "St Stephen's accent", as he calls it, won by a landslide. What's more, PM Singh gave him a ministerial berth, unusual for a first-term MP.

That's when the resentment began to boil over. The old boy herd of Congress elephants frowned at this interloper on their turf. In the media, some felt he had used — and discarded — them at will. Others thought his manners were a little too posh.

A perfect storm was created around Tharoor when made those remarks about flying cattle class. Some Congress windbags suggested he had insulted the ordinary people who vote for the party; others that the holy cow remark was targeted at Mrs Gandhi herself.

While it was silly of someone so intelligent to have offered himself up as such an easy target, Tharoor's qualities are hard to beat.

Despite a hectic career in diplomacy, he has written several books. Two of them, a small work on Nehru, and a semi-autobiographical book called India: Midnight to the Millennium, are great reads and his love for country shines through. I must have gifted a dozen copies of Midnight to various people.

Although he could be said to have entered politics with a silver spoon, it was courageous on his part to have chosen to go in for the rough and tumble of a full fledged campaign, especially when the PM himself is a man who entered parliament through the upper house, which has an indirect ballot. Tharoor too could easily have asked for similar accommodation, pleading no experience in politics. But he chose to do it the hard way and no one can take that away from him.

During the campaign last year, I watched in amazement as this city slicker from New York donned the wraparound dhoti and shirt common in Kerala and shed the Malayalam accent he learnt on his mother's knee to speak the way of his potential constituents in Trivandrum.

When I saw the shiny eyes with which women, young and old looked at him — Kerala is the only state in India where the population balance favours the female gender — I knew his chances were improving by the day.

Once in power, he could have basked in his Lodhi Estate home in New Delhi, walking with his security escorts to his favourite bookshops in Khan Market. Instead, he has set himself a gruelling pace, travelling to Africa and the Middle East — areas he is responsible for — yet, keeping in touch with Trivandrum and his home state.

His twitter fan list reportedly has passed 650,000 which  probably makes him more popular on that social networking site than Bollywood's reigning hero, Shah Rukh Khan.

And by occasionally thumbing his nose at the humbug that surrounds him, he has also shown that he isn't entirely beholden to his political patrons and may well be developing a constituency of his own.

That could mean only one thing.

As I saw from the days when he was in the thick of the fight against Ban Ki Moon, Tharoor is a man who always works on Plan B, even as he gives Plan A his best shot.

For me, Wednesday will remain etched in memory for one of cricket's most sublime afternoons as the Indian batting legend, Sachin Tendulkar, crafted the biggest individual score ever in the one-day version of the game. At the end of India's allotted batting session of 50 overs against the visiting South African side, Tendulkar stood unbeaten on 200, having opened the batting three and a half hours earlier.

PHOTO SOURCE: AP

The previous highest in a one-day international was 194, shared by two batsmen one of whom, the Pakistani great Saeed Anwar, hit up that score against India during a fixture in Chennai in 1997. The other 194 belongs to Charles Coventry of Zimbabwe.

Anwar, however, had used a runner through most of his splendid innings. Sachin, 36 and already called 'grandpa' by some of his team mates, had scampered his way through the long stint at the increase, except when he was cutting, pulling and driving the ball to all corners of the field. More than once it was a lift over the bowler's head, like a golfer artfully using an eight-iron to loft the ball a middle distance.

Other times, it was a wristy turn from outside the off-stump (right of the wicket) to get the ball screaming along the ground way to the left. And after he got his hundred he treated himself to the field, opening his powerful shoulders to send the ball crashing over the boundary more than once. Most impressively for me, the exultation at the first century and then the double-hundred was measured. No excessive fist pumps. Just a toss of the head, a lifting of the helmet, a gaze at the skies in memory of his late father and a brief moment to accept the congratulations of his fellow players.

It was a reminder that in this day of sledging and refusals to walk even when you know you are out, there still are gentlemen left in the game. Perhaps it was appropriate that this particular landmark took place in Gwalior city, seat of what once used to be one of India's largest and most prosperous princely states under the Raj.

In the dressing room, awed team mates, some of them the lustiest hitters in the game, waved downwards in tribute.

I simply wiped my glasses in disbelief.

What hunger drives this athlete to keep on showing up game after game when his legend is undisputed? It is like Tiger Woods craving for the Majors long after he passes Jack Nicklaus's record of 18, should that ever come to pass.

Tuesday's performance delivered Sachin his 46th 'century' in the one-day game. In Test cricket, the longer version of the sport that is played over five days, he has 47 centuries.

No one in the world has had anything close to this. The batsman with the best chance of getting close to him is the Aussie great Ricky Ponting, the current captain. The poker-faced Ponting, who came into international cricket five years after Sachin made his debut as a 16-year-old cherub, has 29 one-day hundreds and ten more in Tests. But he is only some 20 months younger and with Sachin showing no sign of fatigue it is a good guess that Punter, as he is known, will pass into retirement without troubling Sachin's record.

PHOTO SOURCE: REUTERS

At some point though, there will be that last walk to the crease for Sachin. It will come at a time of his choosing, because no one in India will have the guts to tell him when to go.

I just hope that he has better luck at that moment than the late Don Bradman, the greatest batsman of all time. Playing in his last Test match in 1948, the great Don was bowled for a duck, or zero, in just his second ball. It is possible that the sharpest eyes in the game had missed the line of the ball and its turn because they were filled with tears.

I just hope that Sachin, whom the Don once said he thought had the batting style closest to his own, gets a hundred in his last outing. Certainly, the Don would cheer.

EVERY time I travel to Colombo the first person I usually call is old Pali Wickremesinghe, whose family owns Ceylon Biscuits, the island's biggest food company. This time when I tried him I reached Pali in a town called Negombo.

Sunset in the town of Negombo. PHOTO: Berita Harian

I didn't think much of it; Pali is one of those ancient Wodehousian spirits who restlessly travels from town to town, enjoying the beauty of the land around him, savouring its tastes and scents.

That evening, as we caught up over dinner, I learnt the reason he was in Negombo. His former driver, now old, was ailing and he had gone to look him up and make sure the man was comfortable.

Typical Pali, I thought to myself. Then again, typical Sri Lanka!

Among all my travels in South Asia I have found no people more kind to the under-privileged than the average Sri Lankan. There are huge disparities of income, of course, but the average Sri Lankan household treats its menials with far more sympathy and dignity than anywhere else in the sub-continent.

In India, for instance, drivers are treated poorly, often told to sleep in their cars when their masters take them out of town.

In Nepal and Bangladesh I have seen some of the wealthiest people treat their help like serfs, turning a blind eye to their torn clothes, giving them little rest, frowning every time they seek a day off and ever watchful that food is being consumed without authorisation.

It came to me again a few days in Colombo, as I made arrangements at the Taj Samudra Hotel's travel desk for a taxi to the Jaffna peninsula in the north. I heard the car driver say something quietly to the manager. This man turned to me apologetically and pointed out that because of the troubled situation that existed in the north, hotels were few and those that did exist didn't have dormitories for drivers. I would have to pay extra for a room for the driver.

I readily agreed, and appreciated the dignity that the driver expected. It came so naturally because that is the norm. Anywhere else, and the travel desk chief would have probably instructed the man to "just manage".

The service class in Colombo probably has the best wages in all of South Asia, are certainly the best turned out and take their free time seriously. There is none of the excessive cringe that I see in some places of Pakistan for instance, or southern India.

And that is the way it should be. Little things like these have contributed to my abiding optimism for Sri Lanka.

I see car drivers stop at red lights at 2am. Road signs along the narrow highways are clear. The roads themselves are constructed well, their cambering so good that I hardly heard a tyre squeal around the bends.

Anecdotal evidence suggests that while there definitely is corruption, it is far less pervasive, or intrusive than in many other South Asian nations.

One thing that I cannot fathom however,  is a rough edge to Sri Lankan society regarding political discourse. It can be vicious and slander is not uncommon.

The Rajapaksas, who arrested their former army chief this month, say Gen Fonseka would have done worse to them had the general come to power instead of them. After the late Junius Jayewardene rose to national leadership years ago, he stripped his predecessor, Mrs Sirima Bandaranaike, of her civil rights.

Some powerful people also display very thin skins even where legitimate criticism is concerned.

In February 1990, a prominent journalist named Richard de Zoysa was abducted and his body found in water. Many Sri Lankan journalists fled the island and I played host to one such family at the time. Elements linked to the state were suspected in Richard's murder.

Sandhya Eknaligoda, wife of missing Sri Lankan cartoonist and journalist Prageeth Eknaligoda, holds up a cartoon of slain journalist Richard de Zoysa, drawn by her husband. PHOTO: AFP

Last year, another prominent journalist, Lasantha Wickrematunga was murdered in broad daylight in Colombo. Defence Secretary Gotabaya Rajapaksa points a finger at Fonseka for that murder.

Journalist Lasantha Wickrematunga was murdered in broad daylight in Colombo. PHOTO: AFP

Likewise, the Tamil Tiger supremo Velupillai probably accounted for the killings of more prominent Tamils, including some leading insurgents, than any death squads sent by the government in Colombo. He could brook no rival.

How can compassion and violence co-exist so perfectly in the same society? It is something that I haven't quite figured out.

THE instructions to me from the Sergeant at the military checkpoint at Omanthai, from where the A9 begins its journey to Jaffna through territory formerly held by the Tamil Tigers, had been friendly but abundantly clear early that morning.

'Your pass is for only a day. That means you have to be out of here by midnight.'

With the ruthlessness displayed by Sri Lanka's military in the final stages of the war fresh in memory, I wasn't about to take any chances with these soldiers. It had taken me four hours from Omanthai to Jaffna through axle-breaking stretches of road where asphalt was a mere memory and the return journey would be at night. Discretion, as they say, is the better part of valour.

So, just after 5pm I reluctantly ended my interviews on the Jaffna peninsula and told Qutubdeen, my driver from the Taj Samudra Hotel in Colombo, that it was time to go. We could easily pass Omanthai before 10pm and, by taking turns at the wheel, expect to be back in Colombo by 2am.

Everything was moving to plan. The day had gone in a rush. Neither of us had eaten, except for some tea and bread at a canteen outside the Jaffna Government Agent's office. But we bought some of Sri Lanka's famous Munchee biscuits, produced by a company owned by my friend Pali Wickremesinghe, thanked Pali for its good taste and sipped water as we moved steadily down, reaching the town of Vavuniya at 7.45pm.

I checked my watch. We were making good time, I thought to myself and at this pace we might get home a little sooner than I initially thought.

Deen and I chatted as we slowed to move through the town and I pointed out to him the Vavuniya police station, scene of a famous Tamil Tiger attack during an earlier time.

Deen steered the Toyota Corolla left at the intersection and I bowed in obeisance as we passed the Ganesha temple on the highway, gathering speed. Two kms down the A9 from that point is a cluster of shops. Some of the lights had gone off, but others were still on. Sitting in the front seat next to Deen, I chatted with him about the Tiger rebels that I had known, now all dead. A vehicle from the other direction would pass us every few minutes; traffic was thin at this time. Although there has been no Tiger attacks since the top leadership was wiped out in May, a sense of unease and foreboding still seemed to fill the land around us.

As Deen dipped and flared his headlamps alternately, I could see animal shapes a kilometre ahead on the other side of the road. From long years of driving in the Subcontinent I know that animals -- and people -- are unpredictable. I raised a cautionary hand and Deen, still focused on the road ahead, sensed my warning and began to slow down.

A hundred metres from the pack and my worst fears came true: the herd, until then serenely standing by the roadside, stampeded. Two dozen animals began a charge across the road. Deen slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt.

With no time to react, we watched some of the bovines veer left and head straight for the car, probably blinded by the headlamps at the same time. One smashed straight into the front right of the car and the next thing I knew there was a cow flying straight at the windscreen, hooves pointed at my chest like some Bruce Lee delivering a knockout karate kick.

I braced for impact, immobilised by the seat belt. Maybe this was the way it was all meant to end after a career spent covering war, famine, riots, assassinations and tsunamis -- killed by a flying cow in Tamil Tiger territory!

The sound of the smashed headlamp was instantly followed by the clutter of hooves on metal as the cow was swept up and landed on the bonnet of the car. The hooves beat a desperate tattoo on the windscreen.

Then, everything went quiet. The animal had clambered off the bonnet, fallen to the ground and picked itself up to stand by the wayside, glowering at the vehicle that had obstructed its run. The windshield had held.
I breathed a prayer.

'Thank you, God. Thank you, Toyota!' I said to myself.

I put out a hand to steady Deen, who gathered himself after a minute and ran out of the car to remonstrate with a man who had followed the cattle out of the shadows.

This fellow reeked of arrack and seemed to have a secret sorrow. He said nothing. This unhappy soul had caused the stampede, apparently deliberately, although he mumbled something about being scared that some animals may be run over by a truck or a bus.

Deen is a Tamil Muslim and the people around us were Sinhalese, so he was careful to keep his anger in check.
It turned out that the man was a former soldier. His age indicated he was too young to retire, so he may either have been a deserter or fired, perhaps. Either way he was in a sullen disposition. We looked at the car.

The right headlamp was smashed. The bonnet was dented and the wipers were bent. The windshield itself was miraculously intact.

Deen called the insurance people in Colombo, who said they would need a police report to process the claim.

Deen looked at me. If I insisted on continuing the journey straightaway he wouldn't be able to claim insurance. I put an arm around him and told him to turn the car toward the Vavuniya police station, which we'd just left behind.

The policemen were helpful. They finished up some work they were doing and turned to our case.

The car was examined. A lengthy report was recorded in Sinhalese.

When it was all over, Deen was profoundly apologetic. I told him he had behaved impeccably, both as a driver and a victim.

Toyota has got some bad press lately because of quality issues in the US. But it hasn't affected me. The car I drive in New Delhi, which is my base, is a Toyota -- an Innova minivan.

It is a vehicle I love taking out into the country, and especially on monthly visits to my son, who is at a boarding school 300km away in the Himalayan foothills. I love the engine, the way she handles despite her size, the ride comfort.

After our little accident -- should I say incident -- at Vavuniya, I am even more of a Toyota fan. Despite the knock it got, Deen's Corolla behaved perfectly, the engine soft as a whisper despite the 200,000km on its clock.

I got into bed at a little before 3am, and slept until 7, too tired to be traumatised by the cow that had nearly jumped into my lap.

Also read Ravi Vellor's related story, Former Tamil Tiger territory stirs to life, in The Sunday Times.  

LAST Wednesday, Sri Lankan defence secretary Gotabaya Rajapaksa gave me a telephone interview in which he detailed why he and older brother Mahinda, the country's president, felt a need to act so strongly against the military hero who delivered peace to the island after a quarter century's bloody insurgency.

For Gen Sarath Fonseka was no ordinary commander.

The victim of two assassination attempts, one of which needed him to evacuated to Singapore for treatment, Fonseka's relentless drive, fierceness and military cunning, combined with the political and material support he received from the Rajapaksas ensured the victory over what Sri Lankans call 'terrorism'. Others may not agree, of course, particularly the Tamils, who have a long history of grievances against the state, many of them legitimate.

The Gotabaya comments to the Straits Times were widely reproduced around the world and continue to reverberate. But unable to get through to the Fonseka camp at the time, I was eager to get the other side's story into the picture. With the general in military custody and under prodding from my editors, the only option was to talk to his wife.

When I reached the Fonseka residence on Queens Avenue, Mrs Anoma Fonseka was on Skype, chatting with her daughters in the US. Outside, Jerfy, the Dalmatian was howling away and I was told he'd been that way since Sri Lanka's war hero, now facing charges of treason, had been arrested last Monday.

When I went up to pet Jerfy I was warned by Mrs Fonseka's sister that this was no friendly dog. Aside from the general and his wife, said Mrs Chandana Peiris, Jerfy had gone for everyone else in the household, including the Fonseka girls. So I turned from admiring Jerfy to admiring the flowers in the garden.

Colombo was tense and unhappy about the treatment being meted out their war hero, but you couldn't tell from the tropical beauty that surrounds me here everywhere. 'Lands of charm and cruelty' -- the title of a book on Southeast Asia, kept coming back to my mind again and again as I inhaled deeply, savouring the moment.

Presently, Mrs Fonseka showed up, accompanied by her own pet, a Dachshund named Tutu. Tutu curled up at my feet and lay down, occasionally stirring to chase away a butterfuly, as we talked for an hour.

General Sarath Fonseka's wife, Ansoma Fonseka, gives the other side of the story. -- PHOTO: AFP

THE INTERVIEW

WHAT WENT WRONG BETWEEN YOU AND THE RAJAPAKSAS?

I cannot understand. We were very good friends. After the war ended, I began to feel it a bit. There were some misunderstandings. There was some ill-treatment just after the war. Sarath wanted to stay on as army commander, he didn't want to be Chief of Defence Staff. He wanted to work on the welfare of the war heroes. They didn't allow that. He asked Gotabaya if he could stay as army chief, but they didnt allow it. That was the main thing. He used to talk about it at night.

About the other things I do not know, but this was the main thing: he wanted to make sure that the soldiers had a home and were not living under trees.

IS IT TRUE HE WAS PLOTTING HIS POLITICAL CAREER WHILE IN OFFICE?

He entered politics after removing his uniform. He came very decently to politics. He is a civilian since he retired in November and now they are threatening him under the Army Act.

WERE YOU AWARE THAT HE HAD PLANS TO MOUNT A COUP?

If he wanted to do that he could have done it much earlier. He could have easily done that soon after Prabhakaran was killed. At that time, Sarath was the hero. These are made up stories. He gave full respect for the president and the defence secretary -- not any others. He obeyed them and trusted them 100 per cent. Afterwards he was disappointed. People around the president and the secretary bred suspicion.

WHAT ABOUT THE ALLEGATION THAT HE WAS INVOLVED IN MURDERING AND HURTING JOURNALISTS OPPOSED TO HIM?

That never happened. At the time of (Lasantha Wickrematunge's murder in Jan. 2009) he was directly involved in the war and had no time for other things. I can assure you that. He was too involved with operations. He was always with maps. There were maps on the floor, he was looking at maps while eating, walking... all the time. And there was a map in his mind. Nobody can fight a war and be plotting murder of civilians at the same time. They have taken one of his young officers and forced him to give evidence. These officers did a good job for my husband during the war. I can say with hundred percent certainty the murder charge is false.

WHAT ABOUT THAT ABOUT-TURN HE MADE ON THE IDP (INTERNALLY DISPLACED PEOPLE) ISSUE? HE OPPOSED QUICK RESETTLEMENT OF TAMILS THEN CHANGED HIS MIND ONCE HE ENTERED POLITICS.

The north was full of mines. He wanted 100 per cent demining to be done. That would have taken time -- that is why he asked for the Tamils to continue to be housed in the IDP camps. Even now he tells me they are resettling in too much of a hurry. It still bothers him. They did it quickly because of the elections. That is not the way to do it.

WHAT IS HIS MENTAL SHAPE?

He is very brave. Mentally, he is 100 per cent okay. He has tremendous will power and his morale is very high. No one can take that away from him.

WHAT ARE HIS PRISON CONDITIONS?

It is a normal quarters given to junior married officers. Not the luxurious apartment that they are talking about. I know because I am a military wife. There are two rooms, no air conditioning. Only fans. There is a common toilet.

WHAT DOES HE EAT?

Well, rice, curries, pol sambal... He likes jakfruit, fish curry -- seer fish and cod. And I take skimmed milk for him because he cannot take regular milk after his last assassination attempt.

I have to give my thanks to Singapore (for saving his life). Otherwise, he will not be here. We were were for a month while he was being treated in Singapore General Hospital. There is one mortar piece in his lungs. A second shrapnel is near his kidneys and his bowels were damaged in the third accident, which was a suicide attempt on his life.

IS THERE A CHANCE OF THE RAJAPAKSAS AND YOU CALLING A TRUCE?

He wants a reasonable way to come out. The law will give the correct answer. He has done no wrong. Why should we beg from them? Even I will not agree to that. The truth will come out some day.

IS HE A TAMIL HATER?

We have very good Tamil friends. They even give us our meals. In childhood, he was in Amparai with lots of Muslims (whose language is Tamil). My father had very good friends in Jaffna. During our courtship we used to eat in Tamil restaurants like Greenland and Saraswati Lodge in Colombo. I was a student then and he was a lieutenant in the Singha regiment.

IS IT TRUE YOU SPOKE TO MRS RAJAPAKSA AFTER HE WAS ARRESTED?

Yes, we were good friends. She was in Moscow when I called her and she called me back in two hours. I told her he wasn't arrested, he was abducted. They pulled him, lifted him like an animal. I asked her to save his life and she told me she would do something. I think she did. There is still a connection between woman to woman. We are wives and mothers after all. I give my thanks to her.

Read also Ravi Velloor's full report, 'Fonseka's wife rebuts allegations', in The Sunday Times.

At Cabinet meetings, Mr Gotabaya would listen as the debates swirled on how to tackle the Tamil Tiger separatist insurgency that had roiled his nation for a quarter century. Many thought a political settlement was the only way out.

Sri Lanka's Defence Secretary, Mr Gotabaya. PHOTO: The Sunday Leader

"Gotha", as he is known, was convinced otherwise. He soon set about beefing up the military, organising the weapons and other supplies needed to take on the world's deadliest guerilla force. Arms came from the Ukraine, China and Pakistan. Valuable intelligence inputs came from India, whose former prime minister, Rajiv Gandhi, had been assassinated by a woman Tiger.

Twelve days before he was due to retire as a major general in 2005, President Rajapaksa picked Sarath Fonseka as the new army chief. He couldn’t have found a more determined man. Together, the three orchestrated what the Sri Lankans call the world's first decisive victory against "terrorism".

But now the Rajapaksas have fallen out with Fonseka.

In October, sitting in his  defence headquarters office, my meeting with Mr Gotabaya was cancelled at the last minute. His military aide said the secretary had been summoned by the president, then developed a stomach ache and had gone home to rest.

When I got back to my hotel Colombo was all agog with rumours that Fonseka, still the  chief of defence services, was about to mount a coup and topple the president.

The Rajapaksas now have the upper hand. Gotabaya's hard-hitting tone throughout the hour-long telephone interview he gave me on Wednesday afternoon reveals the depth of the anger the Rajapaksas have towards Fonseka.

THE FULL INTERVIEW

On the circumstances that prompted Fonseka's arrest:
The episode has nothing to do with our political differences. The biggest damage he has done is by coming into politics in the manner he did. After 35 years in the military he should have thought of the institution as a whole.

Our forces never used to be involved in politics but this time they were fully involved and this divided the military. He used to telephone officers directly. Some officers told me they switched off their cell phones because of this. His campaign staff comprised mostly military officers and their main task was trying to reach the security commanders.

He divided the army. Because of this, the government had to bring some of the officers on television to defend its position. He started his political campaign when he was occupying the army commanders house!

On Fonseka's charge that his military security was deliberately reduced to expose him to danger:
He had requested for a certain number of security personnel. This was granted, but he kept more than that. The army couldn't do anything. If it tried to take away the extra security and vehicles, he would immediately have claimed the government was harassing the commander.

He created the situation and then he began attacking the president and myself in a third grade manner, more than any other politician ever would. It was so dirty.

On the main reason for Fonseka's arrest:
The main reason is whatever he had done in the military. He will be charged under the army act. Under the army act, any officer can be charged under military act within six months of leaving the military. There are other things we will do under civil code.

Such as what?
It was clear that while he was holding the Chief of Defence Staff assignment he was working with politicians and held discussions with them and tried to win them over. That was completely wrong because he was sitting in Security Council meetings. It amounts to treason. He knew everything that was going on.

The IDP (internally displaced persons) situation for instance. He is the only person who disagreed that the people should be resettled promptly. He completely opposed it. In fact, he said there should be no resettlement for three years. (Presidential adviser) Basil (Rajapaksa) wanted it. The security force commaders wanted it. But Fonseka said, no , he can't agree.

Once in the Eastern Province (a war-ravaged province where Tamils are a majority) he even told the security commander to bring back to camps those who had been resettled. Everyone in the army knows that. But once he left the army, he said just the reverse.
 
On the other civil offences:
Well, he alleged that I gave orders for shooting at people holding white flags (of surrender).  It is utter lies. You can understand the difficulty he put the government in.

On Tuesday, he told the BBC that he will give evidence in any court. That type of thing. He simply cannot do that. For one thing it is a lie. The other thing is to give evidence... after all he was one of the people involved.

Also, certain things he said in the political campaign we cannot ignore. It wasn't in the heat of campaigning. He was serious. Such as how to get rid of certain people.

On Fonseka knowing about the murder of the journalist Lasantha Wickrematunge beforehand:
Yes, of course. We know there was no other person. You have to see the circumstances. Some of the media people harmed had never criticised any other person except him, or people close to him. Nothing happened to those who had been criticising me or the president.

We  have a clue whom he has used. We are very convinced. In fact, I know for sure. He was definitely responsible for 5 or 6 cases (of disappearances) where media people were involved. Now I am going after the people who did the executions. The truth will come out very soon, then the people will know.

On government fears that he was heading towards leading a coup:
He was planning on a military rule. It was very clear in the latter stages, in the way he had spoken and addressed the people. He said he wouldn't allow the politicians to rob the military of the victory they had achieved and offer a political solution.

He was completely trying to isolate the politics and take the country on a different path. In his very last stages as army commander he began bringing his people into Colombo and his regiment, positioning his senior regiment people all over.

All these things were looking like a military coup. He also took a keen interest in changing the previous navy commander (who was not well inclined towards him).

All that hastened our decision to move him to a higher apppontment. I had to take that decision to take him out from the commander's position and make him CDS (Chief of Defence Staff). The CDS is not a ceremonial post, but he created that impression.

The fighting phase (against the Tamil Tigers) was over and in the second phase what was required was more intelligence and planning. It needed careful planning, rebooting. You can't do it the same way you conducted a military operation. Hence, the CDS appointment.

Outsiders don't know all this and call it a demotion. In fact, the JVP (Janatha Vimukti Peramuna) who are his present supporters criticised the government at the time for creating such a position with huge powers. They said we are trying to create a dictator. They said too much power vested in a single person. If Fonseka's aim was to serve that would have been a better position.

On the impact on the army:
They understand. They know he has made mistakes. His behaviour during the campaign antagonised the military. And in any case he wasn't a very popular army commander. We ourselves gave him more credit than he deserved. There were better officers in the army.

He was appointed 12 days before retirement. If President Rajapaksa had not been elected in 2005 Fonseka would have retired as a major general. What he achieved we could have done with any other commander. We had better officers who had made more sacrifices.

We had four presidents previously. None of them were convinced it (the Tamil Tiger separatist insurgency) could be tackled militarily. Only Rajapaksa (the President) was convinced it had to be tackled as a military problem.

All the others were half hearted. It was only purely numbers. I gave numbers and increased the army's strength by three times to close to 300,000. We put more people on the ground.

On Fonseka's wife saying she has no clue to his whereabouts:
He is being kept in a naval base. He is not in a cell or anything. We have given him an apartment that was once used by the navy commander when he was a chief of staff. It is pretty luxurious.

If Fonseka had  won he wouldn't have given all these facilities even to President Rajapaksa. But he lies, his wife lies. And his supporters lie.

On letting him campaign in the parliamentary polls:
Now he can't. The court martial will begin immediately after the assembling of the summary of evidence is done. I don't know how long it will take because that depends on lawyers. But we want to finish it soon, in less than six months maybe. The severity of the charges is very high. He can be put in jail for as long as five years.

On Fonseka alleging serious human rights violations by the Sri Lankan military:
I am not bothered. He can tell any lie but he can't prove anything. At one time he says defence secretary wasn't in office at a particular time, at another time he says I gave illegal orders (of shooting at people holding white flags of surrender) during that time. We can prove these allegations aren't true.

We are 100 per cent convinced that western countries with vested interests were backing him. Even the US, and countries like Norway, spent lots of money on his campaign.

I have proof of the Norwegian government paying journalists to write against the government. They have vested interests and used to support the Tamil Tigers in various ways. They also supported Fonseka to try oust the president.

On Gotabaya's personal plans:
There are still a lot of things that need to be done. As secretary for defence I have to bring stability. The Tamil Tigers has a big network outside. We have broken much of that but we have to continue.

The military can do a lot for reconciliation. People don't understand how good our soldiers are. A lot of people tell me that in the Eastern Province they want army around, not police. The army can also play a major role in development because we have trained, disciplined people.

On whether he is standing for the parliamentary polls like his nephew, the president's son:
I won't be contesting for parliament.

Read the related full story in Thursday's edition of The Straits Times here.

'Happy Deepavali.'

At 06:30 a.m. as I waited in the lobby of the Cinnamon Grand Hotel in Colombo recently, that was the call from the man striding by.

At first it didn't quite register. Then I awoke from my reverie:

Happy Deepavali, to you, Minister!

Perhaps it was fitting that the first person to wish me that day was George Yeo, Singapore's foreign minister. For Mr Yeo is an uncommon personality. Among all the global personalities I have encountered in a three decades-long career, I have met no one with such an interest in other cultures. I have watched him on an early winter morning, finishing up his breakfast, changing into chinos and a leather jacket to visit the historic Mughal built Sunday Mosque in Delhi's old quarter, only his bodyguards in tow. I have watched him in the dusty outback of India's Bihar state, standing amidst the ruins of the ancient university of Nalanda, fittingly in the company of some of the world's best known intellectual luminaries. He was there to participate in a Singapore-backed dream to revive that ancient Buddhist seat of learning for a new generation of Asians. Last month in Hua Hin, Thailand, the East Asia Summit endorsed that effort.

I am not a big fan of blogsites, but one I unfailingly check every few weeks is Mr Yeo's blog, if nothing else to catch up on some speech of his I may have missed.

On this Deepavali day, we would travel in a quiet land where there was little celebration despite the area being home to large numbers of Hindus. We would move by helicopter to Mannar in the northwest of Sri Lanka, then to Jaffna in the north and on to Trincomallee in the northeast. We would be briefed by military commanders and civilian administrators. We would visit irrigation projects and the Prima factory in Trincomallee, that iconic Singapore investment in Sri Lanka whose products have been consumed by every citizen of that nation. We would visit the historic Jaffna library and the famous Nallur Kandasamy temple in that town.

"Did you see the look on his face when he broke that coconut as an offering at the temple?" a Tamil Singaporean who was part of Mr Yeo's delegation told me later. "The reverence was real."

At the end of the day, having dined with a local industrialist and before embarking for Singapore, Mr Yeo sat down for a media wrapup. There, he unerringly pronounced correctly the names of every town we had visited and every person he met. I was taken aback.

I must have been to Sri Lanka more than a dozen times, sometimes for more than two weeks at a time, but I will not lay claim to have the same facility. Yet, this was only Mr Yeo's second visit to the island and the first was many years ago, when he holidayed there with his wife.

Does all that make him less Chinese, or less interested in the culture of his own forefathers?

Not at all.

In Trincommalee I watched a retired Sri Lankan admiral, now governor of the Eastern Province, brief Mr Yeo. The admiral mentioned an area called China Bay. Immediately, Mr Yeo's ears pricked up. He asked how the area got that name, then went on to answer his own question by discussing various possibilities, including a port call by the Chinese seafarer Zheng He.

Foreign ministers come in all sizes of intellect. Around the world there must be a few who can match Mr Yeo's intellect. But what probably sets him apart is his genuine interest in alien cultures and this surely must be of use in what probably is the world's most globalised island state.

Mr Yeo gives the impression of a man overawed by the splendour of the universe even as he marks his own place in it.

That thought struck me after seeing the transcript of a door-stop interview he gave Colombo journalists after bilateral talks with his Sri Lankan counterpart, Rohitha Bogollogama.

Dwelling on the talented Sri Lankan diaspora and how it could be harnessed for the country's post-war development, he had this to say: 'All my four children were delivered by Sri Lankan doctors.'

As a lifelong journalist my only regret about Mr Yeo is that he didn't choose to join my profession. Certainly, he had the opportunity.

My former editor in chief, Mr Cheong Yip Seng, once told me he had talent-spotted a young George Yeo just as he had entered government service as a bureaucrat. They were in Indonesia together, accompanying some heavyweight on an official trip.

Sadly, Mr Yeo declined Mr Cheong's offer of employment, choosing to stay on in government.

Too bad. The Straits Times newsroom could have used his skills to teach how to convey the most complex and beautiful thoughts in the simplest language.

And on that subject here is my favourite George Yeo line.

Turning up at an inter-religious meeting a couple of years ago in Singapore, Mr Yeo had this to say about the Parsis. This is the tiny community of Zoroastrians who migrated to India from Persia a thousand years ago and have been successful in business while being great philanthropists.

"The Parsis," said Mr Yeo at that meeting, "have always sweetened the milk that is their host."